Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted novel Chapter 383

LISA

"Take a shower."

Kellan’s soft words distract me from the darkness inside my head.

I don’t even remember leaving Ava’s place, but here we are. Home. His home, but also mine.

My fingers refuse to work. The zipper on my coat stays firmly in place despite my attempts to grip it. Everything feels distant, like I’m watching someone else’s hands fail at this simple task.

"Here." His hands replace mine, steady and warm. Rough and calloused. Strong. Dependable. "Let me help."

The zipper slides down with a quiet hiss. He peels the coat from my shoulders, but it’s warm in here; I don’t need it. There’s a fire going in the wood stove already. I’m not sure if someone kept it going for us while we were gone, or if they started it when we returned.

Dark stains splash against the brown fabric, mostly from behind. Mira’s blood. The sight should make me react, should make me feel something. But there’s nothing. Just emptiness. I’m exhausted; all my feelings have been felt.

"Arms up."

I comply without thinking, letting him pull off my sweater. Then the thermal shirt. Another sweater. The layers fall away one by one until I’m in just a thin long-sleeve shirt that clings to my skin, damp under the arms from sweating.

"Your pants are wet from the snow."

His voice stays gentle, clinical. Like he’s talking to a spooked animal. Maybe he is. I stare at my snow pants, noticing more dark patches near the knees where I knelt beside...

Hmm. No. Those thoughts lead to danger. I’ve already spent too much time down that road today.

Function, Lisa. You need to function.

My boots come off next. Then the snow pants. Two pairs of thermal leggings. My movements are mechanical, automatic, following Kellan’s quiet instructions without really processing them. My body and mind have lost their intrinsic connection.

He gathers the bloody clothes into a pile. Maybe they’ll need to be burned. Can’t wash out that much blood. Can’t...

The room tilts slightly. Kellan’s hand steadies my elbow.

"Shower," he reminds me. "You’ll feel better once you’re warm."

Will I? It feels warm enough in here. I don’t think I’m that cold.

Besides, the numbness feels safer than whatever waits on the other side of it. But I stay silent, letting him guide me toward the bathroom. My feet move without my input, carrying me across the wooden floor.

The bathroom light flicks on. Steam rises from the shower—he must have started it while I undressed. The mirror shows a stranger’s face, pale and blank-eyed. I don’t recognize her. She looks like shit.

"Do you need help?" He asks from the doorway.

I shake my head. The motion feels disconnected, like my body belongs to someone else. "I can manage."