Page 49 of Ranger's Oath
SADIE
The words 'Then we hit them first'are still ringing in my ears when Rush snaps the map shut. The room feels electric, like thunder has just rolled through and we are humming with the leftover charge. Gage’s hand is laced with mine, his grip iron, his eyes fierce. The mark on my neck pulses like a drumbeat, steady and alive. There’s no going back now.
We need to move fast. The war room fills with chatter, plans spilling across the table. Kari’s name comes up—her home, her family, the one safe fallback they have for the civilians. Sutton and Maggie are already there. Rush and Deacon insist it’s where Cassidy and I should go. Out of harm’s way, tucked into safety while the Rangers clean up the mess.
Cassidy stiffens beside me, crossing her arms tight over her chest. “Not happening. I’m not running from this.”
Rush shoots her a look. “Cassidy”
She cuts him off, her voice steel. “Don’t Cassidy me. If you think I’m going to sit around knitting while you storm a port, you’ve forgotten who you’re talking to.”
I smother a grin. That’s my girl. My sister. I slide closer, planting myself firmly at her side. “I second that motion. Besides, Kari’s house is crowded.”
Rush lifts his head, unimpressed. “This isn’t a debate.”
“Funny,” I counter, “because it feels exactly like one.”
Gage steps forward, towering, voice low and commanding. “Sadie.” Just my name, a warning wrapped in gravel. My belly does a traitorous flip, but I don’t back down. Not this time.
“You really think locking us away while you all play soldier is going to work?” I meet his gaze head-on. “You should know better by now.”
He clenches his jaw, that muscle ticking. “It’s not about fairness. It’s about survival.”
“Then let us help you survive,” I fire back. “We’re not porcelain. Cassidy and I can handle ourselves.”
Cassidy grins, clearly enjoying the show. “Translation: you can try and stop us, but you'll fail.”
Rush mutters a curse under his breath, but Gage just stares, like he’s weighing how much of a fight he really wants tonight. Finally, he grinds out, “You stay here. That’s final.”
“Of course,” I say sweetly, batting my lashes. Cassidy echoes me with mock innocence. Not one of them buys it.
The Rangers roll out an hour later, trucks rumbling down the drive, red taillights streaking through the dark like glowing embers. Gage kissed me before he left, rough and lingering, like he already knew I was lying through my teeth, which I most definitely was.
His warning was low and dangerous, his mouth hard against mine, and I gave him the same soft promise I’d given before.He didn’t believe it, not really, but he let me go. The dust from their convoy hasn’t even settled, the night still vibrating with the echo of their engines, and Cassidy’s wicked grin mirrors my own, sharp with anticipation.
“Ready?” I whisper.
“Born ready,” she replies.
Two, almost identical, swirling mists find us quickly, rising thick and alive from the ground. It coils around my legs, heat and thunder in every curl. Cassidy’s eyes flash copper, lightning catching in her hair before it encompasses her and the wolf bursts free.
I let go, surrendering to the storm. The thunder rattles my bones, lightning snaps across my skin, and then I’m on four legs, fur bristling, the world sharp and wild. My paws dig into the dirt, muscles singing with power.
With a quick look at one another, we turn to the direction of the port, and we run.
The night air is sharp and sweet, freezing and burning in equal measure as it tears through my lungs with every breath. The pounding of our paws strikes a relentless war rhythm against the earth, each impact echoing up my bones. Grass slashes at my legs, dew bursting cold, while the ground thrums beneath me as if alive.
The fragments of the mist trail close behind us, swirling around in blinding flashes of silver and gold, turning the world into a storm-lit dream. Every sense is heightened—wings beating as birds flee in panic, the low thrum of engines prowling ahead, and the faint, jagged chatter of comms bleeding into the night, each word sparking adrenaline through my veins.
Cassidy veers right, hugging the rise of the ridge, her copper fur flashing as she cuts into the darker terrain. I angle left, hugging low, shadowing the main route the Rangers carved ahead. We move like wraiths across the landscape, bodiesstretched low to the earth, paws beating out a rhythm that blends with the wind. The grass whips against my belly, cold air slicing my throat, but we don’t falter.
We’re ghosts in the field, sliding through the night unseen, every stride tuned to the pulse of war closing in ahead.
Each of us wears a slim headpiece fitted around our heads. Easy to put on tech, designed to be put on as wolves. The bone-conduction rigs pick up growls, barks, and short sounds we can make, keeping us linked with the Rangers even in wolf form.
Through that channel, Rush’s voice barks orders, steady and precise. Deacon responds in clipped bursts, Gideon calls out positions with military calm. I catch the low rumble of Gage’s growl of acknowledgment, carried clear through the rig, and it ripples through me like fire. My throat works with the urge to answer, to send back a guttural note that he’d recognize instantly, but I hold back. If I do, he’ll know I followed, and I’m not ready for that storm.
We hit the perimeter near the port. Barbed wire stretches across the ground, a crude line of defense. Cassidy launches over it clean. I follow, snapping a section with my weight, the sharp twang of metal breaking the night. We land silently on the other side, noses to the ground, reading the air.
