Tangled

Unshift 270

Unshift 270

270 Lisa: Bracelet

LISAT

I blink rapidly, my mind struggling to process what's happening.

The glint of the bracelet the Grand Sage slapped onto my wrist catches my eye. Could it be some kind of cloaking device? He does love his magitech. It would make sense that it has multiple

uses.

That has to be what it is. These are all people who know me. They know my scent and my face, even if it is haggard after my incarceration. The bracelet must make it so I'm less noticeable somehow. Ryder steps forward, his brow furrowed as he looks at all of us.

He can see me, but it's like he doesn't really notice me.

Worry is etched into every line of his face. "Dr. Blackwell," he says, sounding relieved. "We're having problems with our phones."

"Yes, so I was informed." The Grand Sage looks at all the wolves with interest. "Shall we go inside? I'm going to need everyone's devices in order to check on the situation.

"Of course." Ryder snaps his fingers at the other wolves, who follow behind us without a word. Everyone seems on edge, shoulders tense and eyes wary.

As we step into the farmhouse, the sight before me steals my breath. Injured shifters lie scattered across the floor, their bodies arranged on blankets in a makeshift triage. The air is thick with the metallic scent of blood, leaving me nauseated.

Two women I don't recognize flit between the injured, their hands steady as they tend to wounds. Their faces are grim, etched with determination and exhaustion. I'm rooted to the spot, overwhelmed by the sheer scale of suffering before me.

Ryder's voice breaks through my shock. "I apologize for the mess, Dr. Blackwell. We're still setting up after our... retreat.

speaks volumes. This wasn't a planned withdrawal; it

escape.

now, I remind myself-waves off the apology. "No

you get here? Our communications have

to be blown. But the Grand Sage merely clears his throat, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Ah, well, that's a trade secret,

a battered

121

C

270 Lisa: Bracelet

Mia, Chloe, hand yours

green eyes, immediately reaches into her pocket and places her phone on the table. Mia, however, hesitates. Her red hair seems to

know we can trust him?" Mia demands, her voice sharp with fear and frustration. "We don't even know this guy, and now we're just handing over

communication?"

his voice

told. Now."

Mia's shoulders slump in defeat, and she reluctantly places her phone on the table with the others. The Grand Sage gathers up the devices, his movements calm and assured. "You three will be fine for now," he says, his voice soothing.

a brief moment. There's a glimmer of something there- reassurance, perhaps, or maybe a warning. I can't quite tell, and it

in the tense faces of the wolves. They're injured,

who isn't who he claims

really hope shit doesn't

drift toward one woman tending to

help?" I ask, my

nods gratefully, handing me a roll of bandages. "Start with him," she says, gesturing to a young man with a nasty gash on his arm. "Clean the wound, then

kneel beside the injured shifter, my hands shaking slightly as

pain and gratitude. In that moment, I realize it doesn't matter why I'm here