Page 45 of Moonlight and Mischief
It seems cheap to interrupt the majesty of stars streaking across the sky, and I can barely keep my breath even, so I don’t even attempt speech. Slowly, I melt against him and forget everything but the stars above and his touch.
Jasper wakes me up with a soft touch to my cheek. “Marigold, we better get home. Tomorrow is a big day.”
He tucks one of the blankets around me as we walk back, keeping his hands on my waist. Hazel and Slate say their goodbyes and head eastward.
In our cozy cabin, Jasper leads me to his bedroom, takes off my shoes, and trades my blanket for the comforter. I don’t even remember him climbing in beside me. My sleepis dreamless.
9. Alphas and Anxiety
JASPER
The Alpha Counsel meets along our northern border which serves as a central point between Ironcrest and Granite Ridge. Only the Valley Pack will have to travel far, but Cashel and his team are always welcome in our territory.
The day is clear and the weather mild. The perfect setting for a meeting of the most powerful wolves in the region.
Cashel arrives early, greeting Heath with a hug. Heath’s hand stays on his friend’s shoulder as theypart. “It’s good to see you.”
“You as well.” Cashel is a stocky man with dark skin and curly hair. “How are you feeling about this meeting? What are we concerned about?”
Heath doesn’t hesitate. “Zephyr met with us recently and blamed all of last fall’s events on Ferris.”
Cashel nods, rubbing his jaw. “Any theories on what’s going on between Ironcrest and Granite Ridge?”
“We will see if they have any conflict today,” Heath answers darkly.
The Valley Pack’s Alpha looks to me. “Jasper, look at you in your new pack.”
I shuffle my feet, forcing a polite smile.
“Jasper has settled in well. He orchestrated today’s event, actually. I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear that the other packs took quite a few letters to convince them to participate,” Heath says. The pride in his voice warms me. My weeks of effort did not go unnoticed.
“Let’s see how it goes,” Cashel says, his voice thick with apprehension I find mirrored in my grim smile. Determination and dread swirl in my chest.
Slate seizes the Alpha’s attention and I relax, watching as Cashel takes Hazel’s hand and introduces her to the Valley Pack Beta, Malachite. He looks like a younger version of his father.
Hawthorne wanders over after exchanging pleasantries with Zinnia, Cashel’s third. She’s a slim woman with her dark hair shaved into a pixie cut. His expression shifts from amused to concerned as he looks me up and down. “You doing okay?”
“Honestly?” I ask. He nods. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”
Clearing his throat, Hawthorne steps closer, his eyes commanding my attention. “It’s going to be fine. We’re prepared for this. You, more so than anyone else. Trust yourself.”
“I’m not sure I see how a meeting with Ferris is going to go well.”
“Ah.” Hawthorne tips his chin down to meet my gaze. “Your father is outnumbered and outmatched. He’ll be forced to play nice.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I admit. “He’s not going to take kindly to the pressure.” He squeezes my shoulder reassuringly.
Sounds of wolves drift through the trees, followed by rustling and then footsteps. My fists clench as the Granite Ridge Pack comes into view. It’s a bigger group than I expected. My parents have brought more than a handful of guards, including Aries, a great brute with long black hair, and Flint, a wiry and pocked wolf who I’ve wanted to disembowel since childhood.
Ferris wears his favorite leather jacket over designer jeans. He’ll take any chance to show status or wealth. Beside him, Sienna wears a lacy red camisole and black leather pants. For someone who ran through the woods and then shifted from wolf to human, she looks ridiculously glamorous. Her eyes flicker to me, though she shows no emotion. My father is stone with not a single twitch in my direction.
“Ferris.” Heath greets him, noticeably cold in comparison to how he greeted Cashel.
“Heath,” my father answers, a grim smile on his face. Heath doesn’t greet Sienna, and she raises her nose in the air, clearly offended, but my dad does nothing to appease her. Theoretically, they should be equals, but he’s never given her that respect in these types of official meetings.
Slate stands beside Heath, his arm tight around Hazel’s waist. Her claim mark scars are highlighted by the wide-neck top she wears. Sienna’s lip curls as she regards them.
To her credit, Hazel’s political smile never wavers, but I can sense her anger through the pack bond. Slate’s as well. It’s understandable. Sienna isn’t only my mother, she’s Slate’s mother too, though we have different fathers. She left when he was an infant, and if that wasn’t enough reason for his disdain, she’s had it out for Hazel since she arrived last year. Slate may not care about Sienna’s lack of a role in his life, but any offense against his mate is unforgivable in his eyes.
