Filed to story: Tangled in Moonlight Unshifted Novel by Lenaleia
With a 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 stillhealing wounds.
“Looks like you’ve seen some action already,” he grunts, something like approval in his tone. “Good. Means you might just survive what’s coming.”
Lisa 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 for us, it’s not going to be pleasant.
“But then, nothing about my life has been pleasant lately. I squeeze Lisa’s hand back, drawing strength from her presence. We’ll get through this together.
I meet Jericho’s gaze headon, my chin lifting in silent challenge. “We’re ready,” I tell him, my voice steady despite the fear coiling in my gut. “Teach us how.”
He circles us slowly, his gaze raking over every inch of
¤ Avs Life in Westwood (1)
our bodies like he’s looking for weak spots to exploit. I feel exposed, vulnerable in a way that makes my skin crawl.
“So,” he says finally, his voice a rough rasp. “You’re the ones the 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?”
I lift my chin, refusing to be cowed. “I’ve done what I had to do to survive,” I say, my voice steady despite the fear thrumming through my veins. “I’m not afraid to fight.”
He barks out a 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 like you’d faint at the sight of blood.”
Lisa flushes, her hands trembling at her sides. But she meets his stare headon, her voice only wavering slightly as she says, “I may not be a fighter, but I’m not weak. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect the people I care about.”
The shifter’s lips 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 a minute in a real fight.”
I swallow hard, my mouth 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 him think he’s won before we’ve even begun.
“Then teach us,” I say, my voice ringing with a conviction I don’t quite feel. “Show us how to survive. We’re not afraid to learn, to do whatever it takes.”
The shifter stares at me for a 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 into a loose, ready stance. “Come at me with everything you’ve got. And don’t hold back, because I sure as hell won’t.”
Lisa looks at Jericho with her face scrunched up, her confusion clear. “You mean, just… attack you? Right now? Just like that?”
C 97 Ava: Life in Westwood (1)
Jericho’s scarred lip twists in a sneer. “You expecting an engraved invitation, girl? In the real world, your enemies won’t wait for you to be ready. They’ll strike hard and fast, without warning.”
My heart pounds as he turns his piercing gaze on me. “You think you got what it takes, Little Missy Ava? Then prove it. Come at me with everything you’ve got.”
“I’ve only ever defended myself:” And even that was a recent development.
“Then now is a good time to learn. Come on, girls! Don’t lollygag about. This is your life at stake. Come at me!”
Lisa charges at the shifter with a determined yell. He sidesteps her easily, grabs her arm, and uses her own momentum to send her sprawling to the ground.
“Lisa!” I cry out as she shrieks in pain.
Jericho turns to me, waiting, an expectant sneer on his scarred face. My mind races, trying to analyze the best approach.
I lunge at him, feinting left before swinging right. But he’s too fast. In a blur of motion, he has me pinned facedown on the mot my arm uranohad hahind mu back.
“Again,” he grunts, releasing me. “Get up. Both of you.”
After several rounds of Jericho demanding we attack him, only for us to end up on the ground with new bruises every time, I collapse onto the dusty ground, chest heaving, lungs screaming for air. Sweat pours down my face, stinging my eyes. Lisa lies beside me, equally drenched, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
Jericho looms over us, his scarred face impassive.
“Pathetic. You’d be dead the moment a wolf looked at you wrong.”
I glare up at him, too winded to retort. He jerks his head, motioning for us to rise. “On your feet. Follow me.”
-Somehow, I stagger upright, my muscles trembling with exhaustion. Lisa groans as she pushes herself up, her face flushed and hair plastered to her forehead.
Jericho leads us to the track, his stride purposeful. “You’re so weak, you’d probably break your necks running through the woods. From now on, five miles around this track every morning.”
I gape at him, but he’s not finished. He rattles off a list of exercisespushups, situps, something called burpees, some lunges that I’m not entirely certain how to do without a visualthat we’ll be doing daily to build strength. Lisa makes a noise of despair beside me.
Jericho’s piercing gaze finds mine. “Alpha Westwood will be gone at least another month dealing with the Blackwood situation. Don’t expect him to swoop in and save you.”
Something hot and defiant rises in my chest. I lift my chin, meeting his stare headon. “I wouldn’t want to be saved anyway.”
For the first time, a hint of a smile tugs at Jericho’s lips. “You’ve got guts, girl. Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”
-Lisa stares at the track, dejection dripping from her pores. “How many times do we have to go around for five miles?”
I shrug, just as clueless. “No idea.”
Jericho scoffs, his lip curling in disdain, I’m starting to think that’s his default look. “Unbelievable. You two are so sheltered you don’t even know how to track distance.”
It’s not like I’ve had much opportunity for extracurricular sports, what with being locked away in a pack that didn’t see any point in allowing any enrichment in my life.
I bite my tongue, knowing any excuses will only earn me another scathing remark.
Lisa, however, seems to have no such reservations. She plants her hands on her hips, glaring at Jericho. “Well, excuse us for not being born with an innate knowledge of track and field. How about you enlighten us instead of standing there judging?”
For a moment, I think Jericho might actually snap at her. But then he barks out a laugh, shaking his head. ”Fair enough. Twelve laps around this track is roughly five miles. And before you ask, yes, I expect you to keep count.”
I eye the track, the red rubber seeming to stretch on forever. Twelve laps. My legs ache just thinking about it. But I straighten my spine, determined not to show weakness. If this is what it takes to become strong enough to protect myself, then so be it.
“Okay,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “Twelve laps it is.”
Jericho nods, something akin to approval flickering in his eyes. “Good. Now get to it. I’ll be timing you.”
Lisa groans, but falls into step beside me as we start our first lap. The sun beats down on us, the air thick with humidity, but I push through the discomfort. Each step, each breath, is a reminder that I’m alive, that I survived.
Stronger.
I want to be stronger.
I don’t want to depend on anyone for rescue, ever again.
”I’m dying” Lisa moans, even though we’ve gone maybe five feet.
I suck in a breath, my lungs burning as they expand to hold in what little air I manage to gather. “Come on, Lise. We’ve got this.”
“This is inhuman,” she pants, her face flushed.
A laugh escapes me, turning into a wheeze. Too much oxvgen used not enough coming in. “Shifters aren’t human, anyway.”
Lisa groans, and we both fall silent, the only sound our labored breathing and the pounding of our feet against the track. I stumble. She stumbles. It’s inelegant and I’m starting to think she’s right about us dying.
I already want a water break, and it’s only been a minute since our feet hit the track.
Jericho’s voice booms from behind us. “You call that running? My grandmother could outpace you, and she’s been dead for a decade.”
My teeth grind together and I push myself harder, gasping at the effort. Jericho catches up, his strides effortless.
“Breathe from your diaphragm, not your chest. And land on the balls of your feet, not your heels. It’ll make it easier.”
The nasty glare I give him does nothing, because he doesn’t even look at me to appreciate it. I adjust my breathing and stride, surprised to find it does help. Beside me, Lisa does the same.
“I think I’m starting to like him,” I mutter.
Lisa snorts. “I hate him. But… I think he might actually be good deep down.”
A laugh bursts from me, and Jericho’s head snaps in our direction.
“Stop playing around like a bunch of girls and run like men!”
“I am a girl!” Lisa yells, indignant.
Jericho’s roar echoes across the track. “You’re nothing more than a recruit, so shut your yap and run!”