15. Braids and Battles

MARIGOLD

H azel 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 her hand 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.”

“What?”

His expression hardens, lines forming near his mouth. “Pin your braid up. So no one can grab you by your hair.”

The fight leaves me. “Okay.”

“Be safe. We can talk when this is over,” he says, walking away before I can gather my thoughts.

“Marigold,” a low voice says. I turn toward Hawthorne. “Ready?”

The small group of adults staying behind gather around him. We are all that’s guarding the rest of the pack while our fighters are busy rescuing our reluctant allies.

With a sigh, I join the circle and duck my head while Linden reads out assignments.

We watch the warriors of the pack load into vehicles to leave. Hazel jogs toward me, holding a pair of wicked looking daggers. “Jasper wants you to have these,” she says. “Don’t argue. He has good taste in daggers and I want you to have all the protection possible.” She forces them in my hands and turns away before I can thank her.

My heart is in my throat as Slate’s truck peels out, throwing up pebbles under the tires. Jasper rides shotgun. Hazel is right behind them with Onyx beside her. I have to hope they keep each other safe .

JASPER

The car wobbles over the uneven road as we exit our territory and pull onto the highway. With a crack, the clouds let loose and rain splatters across the windshield.

“What’s the strategy you guys finalized while I was handling the drones?” I ask Slate. They were still debating when I had left for surveillance.

His eyes flick between the road and the mirrors, his knuckles white. We’re going as fast as we dare with a wet road. “Hazel wants to lead your squad into the building to clear a path for evacuations. Heath’s team will take care of them once they’re outside.”

“Sounds good,” I say, hands gripping the car door as we pick up speed.

“My team will be going after Ironcrest leadership, and Fisher will be looking for stragglers,” he rattles off, his voice surprisingly steady.

“Who are you taking with you?” I ask. Slate’s team will be at risk as they seek out the most dangerous of our enemies.

“Onyx, Cassia, and Fern.” It’s a good team. Cassia is a vicious fighter, and Fern can match her. They will cut through the Ironcrest wolves without hesitation. Onyx worries me, but after everything he went through last year, I’m not surprised he sought out such a placement.

My stomach tenses up in knots while Slate parks the truck along the side of the main road. It means a longer trip on our way out, but prevents the vehicles from being bottlenecked or trapped in the trees .

Hazel leaps from the truck ahead, her eyes blazing like a war goddess. Beside me, Slate adjusts his weapons post-driving, his eyes on his mate. I can’t quite tell if the heat in his gaze is protectiveness or reverence.

Our teams take up positions. There are around two dozen of us. Against an estimated fifty Ironcrest fighters and up to seventy Granite Ridge members- we won’t know until we see them.

Hazel leads our group of four straight toward the pack house. Lazuli creeps long silently, his dishwater blonde hair looking like ash in the dimming light. Clove takes up the rear. She’s the oldest in our group, but as Fisher’s mate and the twin’s mother, I don’t question her capabilities.

Slate’s squad stays close to us. Cassia and Fern stalk behind their leader while Onyx scans for danger at their back.

Through the trees, the last of the day’s light illuminates chaos. The exterior doors stand wide open, the handles bent. Nearby windows are shattered, glass sparkling in the dirt. They’ve broken into the pack house. So much for Nyx’s defensive plan.

Only a few Ironcrest Zetas stand guard, ready to assist their teammates as the Raven Pack wolves are pulled out of the building. Five younger men and women are led out. The frightened packmates cling together, Ironcrest warriors shoving them along.

A woman with dark hair stumbles and falls, landing on her hands and knees in the mud. Her captor yells, the words unintelligible in the havoc. She cringes as he pulls her upright by her arm, twisting it viciously. I see Hazel’s hand go to her own arm. Cold fear settles in my gut.

Our team halts, allowing Slate’s team to surge forward, guns drawn. Rapid shots announce our arrival, and the first of the Ironcrest wolves hit the dirt.

Heath’s team bands around the Raven pack members, directing them toward the rendezvous location. Moving as one, Slate breaches the door and his team slips in. Hazel nods us forward and we follow the same path.

Inside the pack house, Ironcrest seems to be destroying as much property as possible while they take captives.

Shouts of enemies drown out my thoughts. Slate’s team raises guns and opens fire. Shock paints every face. Ironcrest seems entirely unprepared for any sort of resistance.

Hazel motions us forward and draws her own weapon. Now it’s our turn.

I level my gun at a large man running toward us and fire my first shot. His feet slip out from under him and he falls backwards. It’s the first of many.

Slate’s team disappears ahead of us, hunting for Zephyr. Hazel drives us forward, clearing a path through the central hallway while looking for Raven wolves.

Everything blurs. We clear the way and I make sure to stay at Hazel’s shoulder, defending her back. The Ironcrest fighters are not armed like we are. Screams ring out down the hallways, and Ironcrest members shift into their four-legged bodies. Lazuli hands his two handguns over to Clove and shifts into his wolf form, leaping to meet the first enemy that sneaks past our gunfire.

My lungs ache and I drop at least a dozen bodies before we reach a larger communal space filled with frightened Raven pack members. The trail of bodies behind us makes my stomach sour, but they will recover in a few days. But this poison lingers so they’ll be weak for months. We are crippling their pack in one night.

Hazel ushers the Raven wolves out, sending them down the hallway we arrived through, to where Heath works with Cedar, Vale, and Ewan to get them to safety.

Something heavy slams into me, sending me sprawling. Pain shoots up my hip and ribs. Clove leaps over me, swinging her fist toward a bulky Ironcrest man with black hair. Scrambling to get up, I draw my second gun, but I’m too slow. The man slashes at Clove and opens up a gash on her arm. She glares at the knife in his hand as he jerks backwards. Most shifters don’t bother with blades when we have built-in claws and fangs, but I’ve always liked a good dagger.

Stepping past Clove, I aim and fire, watching his body collapse as the wolfsbane pollutes his veins. Clove snarls, gripping her forearms as blood streams between her fingers.

Hazel directs Clove toward Heath, and Lazuli goes with her, using his snapping jaws to attack any enemy we missed on the way in. As I step over the man who slashed Clove, I reach down and pluck the blade from his hand, tucking it into my tactical gear .

“Are you good?” Hazel yells, looking at me for a moment before she focuses back on our fight.

“Great,” I shout. We move forward, seeking out victims and destroying their attackers as we go.

With a kick, Hazel snaps open a door to reveal a dozen Raven pack members surrounded by four Ironcrest wolves, two already shifted. Aiming, I drop the black wolf easily, but the gray wolf leaps at Hazel before I can react. Its jaws close around her arm, over her protective gear, as she’s slammed to the ground.

A two-legged Ironcrest guard rushes me, yelling unimaginative profane threats as he collides into me. Pulling my third gun free, I shoot up into his gut. Wolfsbane splatters back at me, stinging the exposed skin on my hand.

Scrambling up, I witness Elm pulling the black wolf off of Hazel as she fires directly into its chest. The fourth Ironcrest man drags Elm back, hooking his arm around Elm’s neck to choke him. Throwing myself forward, I twist as my shoulder hits the floor and fire directly into the enemy’s back to avoid hitting Elm.

As his attacker falls sideways, Elm’s knees hit the floor. We’re all on the ground for a moment as the Raven wolves swarm around us, helping us up. Hazel directs the hostages toward Heath’s team with hoarse instructions and hand movements.

Elm’s eyes connect with mine. His expression is hard, but so is mine. A battle is no time for reconciliation, and frankly I don’t care if he likes me or not. He’s still pack, and I would defend him even if he wasn’t the father of the woman I love .

The hallway quiets as we draw closer to the main gathering space. Elm leads the way and I cover Hazel’s back. She stops suddenly as we enter the larger space.

Several enemies lay sprawled across the floor. Slate has Zephyr at gunpoint. Nyx sits primly with her hands zip-tied on a leather armchair, watching with a vicious curl of her lips.

Have we won?

There are still dozens of Ironcrest wolves unaccounted for, and when my thoughts are able to slow down long enough to process, I realize I have not seen a single Granite Ridge fighter.

Ice floods my chest, down my arms and swirling in my stomach. Granite Ridge is not here.

Hazel grabs my arm, frowning as she studies my face. “What’s wrong?” I blink at her. “Jasper!” She gives me a shake.

“Granite Ridge,” I manage to say, my voice breaking. “Not here.”

Hazel’s eyes go wide and she spins, striding toward Zephyr. Her hands draw her dagger from a back sheath - I recognize it as the one that I gave her. Despite Slate’s shout, she storms up to the Alpha and shoves the blade against his throat.

“Where is Granite Ridge?” she snarls.

Zephyr looks away, his face a mimicry of boredom. The uneven flutter of his breathing and his blotchy face gives him away.

Hazel presses the blade into his skin with a snarl. Sneering, he finally answers her. “At home, I assume, since they couldn’t be bothered to hold up their end of the deal.”

Slate steps closer, demanding, “What deal?”

Zephyr stares defiantly into Slate’s face. “They were going to split the Raven pack with us. They wanted the wolves. We were keeping most of the land.”

“I need to get home,” I say, almost doubling over as nausea rolls through me.

Slate’s eyebrows shoot up, though his focus never wavers from his prisoner. Fluidly, Hazel withdraws, leaning close to her mate. “Granite Ridge may have used this as a distraction and decided to make a move on us.”

“No,” Slate says. “That’s not..”

I don’t want to hear his reasoning. There’s nothing he could say that would stop me. It’s everything I can do to keep my wolf from bursting through my skin as I sprint toward the exit.

As night air washes over me, I pull my gear over my head and toss it toward a wide-eyed Cedar. Clothes only half off, white fur bursts over my skin as my wolf instincts take over.

I barely register Hazel shouting to Heath as my powerful lupine form plunges forward, vaulting over bodies and foliage alike.

Racing downhill, I barely slow as I wade into the creek. It’s not too deep here. Water slides across my back, but the chill is nothing compared to the fear slicing into me. My claws scrape on the rocks as I pull myself upward. I shake my fur instinctively, barely slowing as I cross the shallows and reach the shore. I’m back in our territory. Muscles coiling, I leap forward and up the slope.

It’s miles back to our pack’s commune and Hazel races behind me the entire distance. There’s no time to thank her, but I’m fiercely grateful. When it comes down to it, she’s my sister, more so than Ember ever was.

My ears strain to hear any hint of noise from our home, though there is still at least a mile to go. Wolves can run fast and far, but as a shifter, I am even faster. Pushing myself all-out, the distance goes by in a blur.

Adrenaline spikes as the scent of smoke reaches me. Past the outlying cabins, orange and gold light glows from the inner circle of buildings. Keeping out of sight, I stalk in a wide circle, creeping closer.

Flames lick around the diner, melting the linoleum and pulling the roof down over the ashes. Crickett will be devastated. I hope she is far from the fire with her two daughters. Hawthorne was tasked with protecting our home. If Granite Ridge has attacked, where is he?

Hazel creeps up beside me, a low whine echoing the feelings of shock and grief flooding our pack bond. Anger, too. So close to her, I can sense her emotions stronger than the others, but if I focus, I can feel a sense of grim resolution from others nearby. Aside from general proximity, it tells me nothing of their location, only that they aren’t in too much pain.

The two of us circle around toward the south, past the burning building. Through the smoke, we watch unfamiliar wolves move in groups between buildings. The activity seems to center around our training building. I’m not surprised they’ve chosen it for their headquarters.

A dozen Granite Ridge pack members on two legs march in and out of the steel structure, removing some of our supplies and distributing our remaining weapons. My hackles rise.

Lined up along the edge of the picnic tables lay several bodies. None of them look familiar, and more than one has a crossbow bolt sticking up from their chests. I hope they are all enemies and none of our own packmates. There’s no sign of Hawthorne, Marigold, Linden, or any others that stayed behind.

We move further south, trying to pick up any trail. With the shouts of our enemy and the crackle of flames, it’s overwhelming. Smoke blots out my sense of smell. But Marigold is here somewhere. I have to find her.

MARIGOLD

Smoke blocks the moonlight and panic rises up, choking me. My students huddle in Cobalt’s room - the one with the window facing the forest. As far away from the front door as possible without risking being trapped if the building gets torched.

I pace the living room, all the lights off, waiting to be found. Sending these children into the forest with enemy wolves circling would be a death sentence, but it’s only a matter of time until we are discovered. Thank the goddess my family’s cabin is one of the further buildings from the center clearing .

The sound of soft crying drifts down the hall. Peeking in, I see Briar holding Willow as she softly cries. Elwood is curled against her arm, with Cobalt beside him, doing his best to look brave. A fierce pride rears up. “It’s going to be fine. Alpha Heath will be back for us any minute,” I murmur.

I have to believe it. Heath will come charging back, leading all of our packmates in a rescue mission. Surely, Jasper is safe and sound.

My knuckles are white around two daggers. My gun is empty, drained during the first wave of Granite Ridge wolves. Hawthorne threw himself in their path so I could lead the children to safety. I have to hope Crickett and his daughters are still safe in their home’s basement. Even worse, I have no idea where my brother Indigo is. He was with Linden when they attacked, and the older wolf would have gotten him to safety if possible. All I can do is trust and focus on the children in my care.

Taking a steadying breath, I pace back toward the door, around the sofa. The shouts of our enemies grow louder.

Blood rushing in my ears, I crouch and shuffle toward the front window. Dark figures block the moonlight momentarily, causing my heart to leap into my throat.

The door blows in with a bang. My teeth clench. I will not scream.

Three Granite Ridge wolves dart in, two humans and one shifted. No time to hesitate. Without waiting for them to spot me, I strike from my position beside the door. My dagger slices into the upper back of the taller man with all of my strength behind it. He drops with the blade embedded into his back, blood gushing in a way I’ve never seen before. His scream turns to a gurgle.

The second man grabs my arm, squeezing until I drop the second knife meant for him. My cry of pain is drowned out by his angry shout. His grip never lets up as he shoves me backwards and onto the sofa.

He looms over me. My nails dig into my palms, my panic bleeding into my muscles and weakening me. I will not give away the children’s location - although the wolf will discover them in seconds anyway. With any luck, they’ll be out the window already.

“What a pretty little thing,” the man says, one hand grasping the back of the sofa beside my head while his grip moves from my wrist to my hair. With an ugly smile, he twists a chunk around his hand. I want to gag.

Gritting my teeth, I kick up, striking him between the legs. He grunts and doubles over, his breath on my face. The hold he has on my hair drags me sideways and tears spring into my eyes at the pain.

Wolf jaws close over his arm, causing him to drop his hold on my hair. A white wolf drags him backwards and to the ground. Shocked, I push myself up and scramble over the back of the sofa to gain some distance.

Another wolf snarls and stalks closer to me while the man across the sofa screams. Spit drips from his bared teeth .

Weapon. I need a weapon.

There’s nothing. I’ll have to shift. My hands grapple with the tactical gear. I have to get it off or I’ll be tangled up.

The dark wolf growls, its hackles rising, making it look huge. Another step, and my vision narrows as my heart races so fast my chest aches. My hand slips on the buckle, fear numbing my fingers.

The wolf lowers, its haunches bunching, preparing to leap. This time I can’t help the shriek that tears from my mouth.

With a dull thud, one of my daggers embeds into the wolf’s ribcage, throwing him back against the wall. The body slides down to the wood floor, leaving a slick of blood on the old wallpaper.

“Don’t fucking touch my mate,” a voice growls. Slowly, I tear my eyes off the dying wolf and turn toward the gravelly voice.

Jasper stands on the other side of the sofa, naked with blood smeared across his mouth.