Page 22 of Moonlight and Mischief
“Hey, Goldie,” he says, “I’m sorry for giving you a hard time the other day.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask. He’s always pulling some prank or joke, there’s no telling what he’s referencing.
“About you and Jasper. At the bonfire,” he says.
I shrug. “It’s nothing. I owed him an apology after I put my foot in my mouth. But it’s all good.”
“Cool, yeah,” Onyx says, his midnight blue eyes widening as he relaxes.
“Check out this view!” Hazel says, waving us forward. I stand beside her and Hazel drapes an arm around my shoulders. “I’ll never get tired of this.”
Being a new wolf, everything is still fresh for her. She reminds me why I love being in this pack. The sun is lowering on the horizon, but we still have an hour or two until it gets dark. The clouds skimming the distant peaks are tinted pink against the blue sky.
“Hazel, truth or dare?” Onyx asks. He settles on one of the boulders along the edge.
Hazel folds her arms, narrowing her eyes on him. “Truth.”
“Does Slate use your skincare products?” Onyx asks.
Hazel bursts into laughter, looking apologetically at her mate. “I cannot confirm or deny that this handsome man likes to use the same moisturizer as me.”
“It’s got SPF in it,” Slate says with a shrug.
“Knew it!” Onyx says, grinning.
“Okay, my turn,” Hazel says, wrinkling her nose as she surveys potential victims. “Marigold, truth or dare?”
“Dare,” I say, placing my hands on my hips.
“Alright, I’d like you to try yodeling. I’ve always wondered if we could get a good echo up here.” Hazel grins wickedly.
Pressing my fingers to my eyelids, I shake my head. This is going to be so embarrassing, but a dare is a dare. Stepping closer to the edge, I suck in a deep breath and let out my best impression of a yodel. It’s so off-key, I sound more like a goose than a Swiss cow herder.
When I finish, everyone is laughing. A blush colors my cheeks, but I’m pleased my friends are entertained.
“That was amazing,” Hazel wheezes, squeezing my arm. It’s worth it to see her laugh.
“Okay, Marigold, what’s it going to be?” Onyx asks.
“Jasper,” I say, smirking. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth.” He stretches out his legs, a lazy confidence rolling off of him.
“What’s an embarrassing childhood story of yours?” I ask.
Jasper taps his fingers against his mouth while he considers his answer. “When I was five, I shot an arrow through my foot.”
“What?” Hazel asks, straightening.
Shrugging as if it’s nothing, he explains, “I was messing around with a crossbow. I’ve got a nasty scar from it.”
“Wow,” I say, wincing as I picture one of my 5-year-old students with a crossbow. No one in our pack would let a child near the weapons we store in the training building.
“Satisfied?” he asks, something uncaring in his tone.
I wrap my arms around myself and nod.
“Cedar, truth or dare?” Jasper asks.
