Tangled

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97 Ava: Life in Westwood (II)

“Ava, Lisa, this is Jericho. He’s one of our most

experienced enforcers and will be overseeing your training.”

Kellan’s introduction hangs in the air as I take in the man before me. Jericho’s weathered face is a tapestry of scars, each one a story etched into his skin. His

eyes, a piercing blue, seem to see right through me, assessing and calculating in equal measure, his scarred lip curling in disdain.

I force myself to stand tall, to meet his stare head–on.

“These are the whelps I’m meant to train? They look like they’d snap in a stiff breeze.”

Kellan’s jaw tightens. “Jericho, mind your tongue. Ava and Lisa are under the Alpha’s protection. You will treat them with respect.”

Jericho snorts, a harsh sound in the tense air between

1. us.

The shifter’s lip curls, exposing yellowed teeth.

“Respect is earned, not given. They live or die by their

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<97 Ava: Life in Westwood (II)

own strength, not mine. If they can’t handle it, that’s

not my problem.”

fraying. “You just need to train them.

edge. “Defend themselves? Look at them, barely more than pups. Soft. Weak.” He spits the words. like they’re poison on his tongue. “What’s the point? They’ll be dead within a

posture radiating menace. “Let me make this clear,” he says, his voice low and dangerous.

to them under your watch,

moment, the shifter looks like he might argue, his scarred face twisting with disdain. But then he shrugs, a casual roll of his shoulders that does nothing to

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Life in Westwood (1)

with a sharp gesture.

his heel and stalks away, leaving Lisa and I alone with our

something like approval in his tone.

shifts uneasily beside me, her hand finding mine and squeezing. I glance at her, seeing my own. apprehension reflected in her eyes. Whatever training Jericho has in store

squeeze Lisa’s hand back, drawing strength

“We’re ready,” I tell

his gaze raking

Life in Westwood (1)

spots to exploit. I feel exposed, vulnerable in a

crawl.

Alpha thinks are worth protecting. Can’t say I see it myself, but orders are orders.” He stops in front of me, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity that steals my breath. “You ever even thrown a punch, girl?”

to do to survive,” I say,

mocking. “Fighting ain’t just about throwing fists, girl. It’s about instinct, about being willing to do whatever it takes to come out on top.” His gaze flicks to Lisa, dismissive. “And you?

flushes, her hands trembling at her sides. But she meets his stare head–on, her voice only wavering slightly as she says, “I may not be a fighter, but I’m not weak.

in Westwood

shit out there. In the real world, it’s kill or be killed. And right now, I wouldn’t bet on either

gone dry. He’s right, of course. For all my bravado, I’m woefully unprepared for the realities of this new world I’ve found myself in. But I refuse to let him see my fear, to let

my voice ringing with a conviction I don’t quite feel. “Show us how to survive. We’re not afraid to learn, to

unreadable. Then he nods, a single, sharp jerk of his chin. “Alright then, girl. Let’s see what you’re made of.” He takes a step

won’t.”

her face scrunched up, her confusion clear. “You mean, just… attack you? Right now? Just

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97 Ava: Life

engraved invitation, girl? In the real world, your