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.”

our Alpha’s protection,” Kellan grits out again, his patience clearly fraying. “You just need to train 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 week out

me make this clear,” he

them under your watch, you’ll answer to

with disdain. But then he shrugs, a casual roll of his shoulders that does nothing to dispel the tension crackling in the air. “Fine.

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Life in

him off with a sharp gesture. “Enough. Leave the girls to me. I’ll whip them

last warning look, Kellan turns on his heel and stalks away, leaving Lisa and I alone with our new mentor. Jericho eyes us appraisingly, his gaze lingering on my still–healing wounds.

some action already,” he grunts, something like approval in his

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

I squeeze Lisa’s hand back, drawing

chin lifting in silent challenge. “We’re ready,” I tell him, my voice steady despite the fear

gaze raking over every inch of

in Westwood

spots to exploit. I feel exposed,

crawl.

orders are orders.” He stops in front of me, his eyes boring

lift my chin, refusing to be cowed. “I’ve done what I had to do to survive,” I say, my voice

laugh, harsh and 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? You look

sides. But she meets his stare head–on, her voice only wavering slightly as she says, “I may not be a fighter,

in

twist into a cruel smirk. “Pretty words, but they don’t mean shit out there. In the real world, it’s kill or be killed. And right now, I wouldn’t bet on either of you lasting more than

new world I’ve found myself

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

long moment, his expression 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 back, his posture shifting

won’t.”

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

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5/7

Life in Westwood

an engraved invitation, girl? In the real world, your enemies won’t wait for you to