Filed to story: Tangled in Moonlight Unshifted Novel by Lenaleia
You really need to stop giving him ideas, Selene remarks dryly in my mind.
I shoot her a glare but keep my mouth shut this time. Bending my knees, I wriggle and strain, trying to get my feet underneath me so I can stand. My muscles scream in protest, sweat dripping into my eyes and running down my back.
I’d thought I was getting more athletic and in shape, but right now I feel like a tiedup sausage roll.
“Would you like to take a short break, dear?” Mrs. Elkins calls out from her perch, a camping chair someone brought the elderly woman so she can watch in relative comfort.
She’s supposed to be driven back to Cedarwood, but of course everyone’s fallen in love with her. Especially Selene, who admitted last night that Mrs. Elkins has been feeding her entire plates of food leftovers.
Blinking sweat from my eyes, I think about it. Yes, I would kill for a break right now. An ice cold glass of soda, ten minutes in the shade… But then I catch sight of Jericho’s face, his eyebrow arched expectantly. Waiting for me to give up.
Nope, not happening.
“I’m good, Mrs. E,” I wheeze, even as my abs quiver with the effort of holding myself upright. “Just need a sec.”
Liar, Selene accuses. You forget I can feel your exhaustion.
Hush. I’m trying to concentrate here. I know she means well, but her commentary isn’t helping.
Or maybe she’s just screwing with me, blissful in her artificially created breeze.
I’m screwing with you.
I knew it.
Mrs. Elkins frowns, looking between me and Jericho uncertainly. Bless her heart, but I wish she’d read the room. Or the training yard, as it were. Granted, we’re just on a vast field of grass, but it’s where Jericho wants us to practice.
The point is, there’s no way I’m tapping out now, not with Jericho watching me like a hawk.
Channeling what little energy I have left, I plant my feet as best as I can and push off the ground, grunting with the effort. My thighs tremble and my hamstrings burn, threatening to give out yet again. For a precarious second, I teeter, sure I’m about to faceplant right back into the dirt.
But somehow, miraculously, I find my balance. I stand there, swaying slightly, hands still tied behind my back, my legs bound together at the ankles. It’s not pretty, but I’m vertical. I’ll take it.
Jericho nods, something almost resembling approval flashing in his eyes, “Better. Now hop over to that oak tree.”
Incredulous, I stare at the tree in questiona good twenty yards away, across uneven ground.
He can’t be serious.
“Sometime today, Grey,” he prompts, making a ‘get on with it’
gesture.
Gritting my teeth, I awkwardly jump forward, trying not to picture what I must look like. Some deranged cross between a bunny and a worm, probably. Each hop jars my bones and makes the ropes cut deeper into my skin.
There’s a point where I almost fall over, and I’m positive sheer. force of will and a lucky breeze keeps me upright.
This is a lot harder than it looks, and sweat soaks my hairline as I struggle to keep my entire body balanced. It’s amazing how much your arms do for balance. Now that I’m little more than a human worm, I regret not appreciating my arms a little more.
Or I’m a little dramatic, as I tend to be under Jericho’s notsogentle coaching.
“We don’t have all day, princess!”
You’re doing great, Ava, Selene encourages. Just a little further.
I don’t waste breath responding, too focused on not breaking an ankle in a gopher hole. The tree looms closer, its trunk promising blessed support if I can just reach it. Ten more hops. Five. Shit, almost fell over.
Nope, I’m okay.
Four,
Three.
Two.
Teeter. My entire torso windmills until I catch myself, and I slow down my breathing.
One.
With a final, wheezing grunt, I all but collapse my face against the rough bark, using it to hold myself upright as I gasp for air. I made it.
“Adequate,” Jericho allows. “Now let’s see you get out of those ropes.”
I rest my head against the tree with a groan. Still, this is nothing compared to whatever Lisa’s dealing with. And if it helps me get any stronger, every moment of this torture will be worth it.
At least the physical pain is over, Selene says as I’m groaning on my bed, limper than an overcooked noodle.
“It isn’t over. I’m still dying.”
You’ll be fine. This is why you should have kept up with your exercise. Even a few days off and you’re already back to being out of shape.
“Must be nice to be a dog. You never get sore.”
That’s because I don’t sit around like a couch potato.
Harsh.
But true.
Sliding off my bed in the most dramatically sore fashion I can muster, I ignore Selene’s snort and tremblewalk the entire length of the room to the closet where I set the magic book.
Mrs. Elkins goes home today, right?
“Right. They’re driving her to Cedarwood. Lucas sent scouts to make sure she gets there okay.”
“Enforcers,” Marcus corrects me from his corner.
He doesn’t offer to help me get what I want, but he’s quick to make sure I’m calling his comrades by the right title. Giving him a sour look, I amend, “Enforcers.”
Grabbing the book off the top shelf, I decide to sit on the floor in front of the closet, not really wanting to walk on sore legs all the way to the bed. My muscles protest even this, quivering more than a leaf in the wind.
Look at you, taking the lazy way out, Selene mocks, her voice echoing in my mind with a teasing lilt.
“I’m not being lazy,” I retort, settling crosslegged on the plush carpet. “I’m being efficient. Why waste energy when I can just sit here?”
Selene snorts, her furry head shaking in amusement. Don’t come crying to me when your butt goes numb.
Deliberately tamping down on the urge to stick my tongue out at her like a child, I turn my attention to the magical tome in my lap.
The ornate silver clasp is cool to touch, almost unnaturally so, and I suppress a shiver.
With a soft click, it releases, and I carefully open the book. Once again, I’m met with a sea of blank pages.
Frowning, I thumb through the pages. It doesn’t make sense. It has to be some kind of magical lock to keep its contents secure, but how is someone without the knowledge supposed to open it?
Learning it from a mentor, of course.
Well, yeah. But I don’t have one, so that doesn’t help at all.
As I flip through the pages, my fingertips start to tingle, a sensation that’s almost familiar. It’s like a gentle current of electricity dancing across my skin, warm and inviting. I pause, staring at my hand, trying to figure out why it’s triggering some sort of memory buried deep in my subconscious.
It feels like being gently shocked, doesn’t it? Like a low level of a shock collar.
I have no idea how she knows anything about shock collars.
Shaking my head, I mutter, “No, it’s more than that. It’s like…” I trail off, struggling to put the feeling into words.
The tingling intensifies, spreading up my arm and into my chest. My heart beats faster, and I feel a strange pull, as if the book is drawing me in. I close my eyes, letting the sensation wash over me, trying to make sense of it.
And then, like a bolt of lightning, a memory flashes through my mind. “Selene, where’s that necklace?”
Maybe the suitcase? Or the dresser? She sounds hesitant, and I block out the pain and exhaustion in my legs as I stumble around looking for it.