Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted novel Chapter 488

Chapter 488: Ava: Survivors

Twenty or thirty-something prisoners huddle together by the eastern wall of the compound, all of them looking as if they’ve been captive for weeks. Maybe months. Every single one is handcuffed.

The rare pair clutch at each other’s hands, but otherwise they all stand a little apart from each other, as if they’re strangers. They’re calm as they watch my people stack dead bodies in the center of the compound, unfazed by death. This isn’t surprising, considering the majority of them are shifters.

More unsettling is their lack of relief, until I realize they aren’t sure if they’ve been saved or brought into a worse situation. They’re suspicious and on edge.

What really throws me is the two standing slightly apart from the others. Even filthy and starved, there’s no mistaking their ethereal features and pointed ears.

Heize tugs at my sleeve, clearing his throat. "Luna Ava, do you mind if I speak with the them? They don’t seem to understand English. Most Fae have little exposure to human languages. Only those who intend to visit the human realm bother to study it. It’s..." he pauses, struggling to find the right words, "not considered worth the effort for most."

My brows arch; we haven’t given them much direction, but there’s a very obvious sense of confusion surrounding the two. Unlike the others, who have silver handcuffs, theirs are made of rusty iron.

I wave him forward. "Go ahead."

Heize motions the pair to step a little further from the group. The language he speaks is gentle and melodic, and for whatever reason, I keep thinking of a gentle stream as he speaks.

Me, too. They may have an affinity to water, perhaps, Grimoire muses.

The Fae prisoners blink in surprise, then respond with rapid, anxious-seeming words. It’s hard to tell because it all sounds equally lyrical, but their faces are pinched and eyes wide, hands gesturing with more energy than the entire group of captives combined.

As they speak, I ponder the implications of the Fae’s explanation. If these two don’t understand English and had no intention of visiting the human realm, then...

Something tugs in my chest and my head jerks up as Lucas emerges from one of the buildings. He’s dressed in only a pair of pants, blood staining his chest and arms. It’s clear he shifted and then pulled on whatever he could grab after all was said and done.

He looks like some sort of medieval warrior god, and it would be a lie to say my heart doesn’t skip a beat or three.

But then my eyes narrow as I scan him over for injuries. There’s a lot of blood. His walk seems steady, but Lucas would probably stride confidently with half his organs hanging out just to prove he’s fine.

He’s fine. None of the blood is his.

My shoulders relax slightly. Thank the Goddess for Selene’s wolf nose.

It’s genetics, she says humbly.

I can feel Grimoire rolling his eyes, even if I can’t see it.

Since the people we’ve saved still look as if they think we might be enemy number two, and everyone else seems to be busy gathering bodies and looking for evidence, it’s clear no one’s about to explain anything and the responsibility’s fallen on my shoulders.

I look back at the trembling prisoners, then to the building they’d been kept in. Selene, come in here and help me assess them all and see if they’re stable enough to make the trek back to Wolf’s Landing.

Got it. She’s been pacing the perimeter with Clayton and his people; everyone’s convinced reinforcement is coming, but we haven’t seen any sign of them yet.

Selene sneezes as one of the captive Fae pass by her, flattening her ears. Can we send those two outside, at least?

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify