Page 71 of Moonlight and Mischief
Pack members jog in and out of our training building. Heath stands in the middle, giving out directions.
“What’s the plan?” I ask.
“We’re going up there. Gear up for a full assault.”
Onyx follows me to the storage lockers, and we pull on chest rigs and grab handguns and wolfsbane bullets.
The guns are a relatively new addition to Bracken Creek’s defenses. After Heath learned of the weapons Granite Ridge keeps on hand, he agreed to upgrade our options as well. The wolfsbane bullets will knock a shifter out for half a day or longer, and a second bullet can be fatal.
“Are you ready for this?” I ask Onyx.
He narrows his eyes. “Those motherfuckers shot me last year. I’m about to get my revenge.” He tugs the neckline of his shirt down to reveal a scar high on his chest.
“Sorry about that,” I mutter, tightening the straps of my harness.
Onyx shakes his head. “It wasn’t you.”
It’s kind of him, considering I was on the wrong side of the conflict when he was shot.
“Fifteen minutes and we roll out!” Heath shouts.
15. Braids and Battles
MARIGOLD
Hazel drags her nails along my scalp, combing out my hair down my back as I lounge on her couch. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs. Her empathy does little to soothe the tension in every cell of my body. This waiting game is torture with my heart is cut from my chest.
The door bangs open and Slate walks in. “Ladies, it’s time to fight.”
“They’re moving?” Hazel yelps. “Already?”
“Yeah.” His apologetic frown is a thin line.
Hazel stands, offering herhand to me. “Okay, let’s do this.”
I roll to my feet, adrenaline flooding my system. Panic over Jasper’s safety nearly overwhelms me, and my regret over leaving him doubles.
“Sure I can’t convince you to stay back?” Slate asks Hazel, closing the distance between them and pinching her chin with his hand. When she scrunches up her nose at him, he leans in and kisses her.
The rolling thunder clouds loom darker than this morning, the ominous gray promising mud and an early nightfall.
With shaking hands, I pull on shoes and grab the tight athletic jackets we wear during winter training.
“Ready?” Hazel asks, her eyes blazing.
We jog across the meadow and into the training building. The pack is buzzing around us, both those who are going and those staying to defend suiting up and grabbing weapons.
Slate tosses a chest rig to Hazel, and I tighten down the nylon straps to fit her snugly. She loads her gear before turning to help others.
“Marigold?” Jasper’s voice resounds, and I whip around to see him standing among the trees, staring at me like I am his salvation. It takes all my willpower to keep my feet planted and not race to him. As he approaches, I bite the inside of my cheek.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to the Raven Pack. Your meddling has me stuck on defense,” I growl.
“Thank you,” he says, relief stark in every sound.
“I’m not yours to worry about,” I reply, bristling.
Jasper reaches out and touches my hair, braided in one thick braid down my back. It slips through his hand like rope. “Please tie this up.”
