Moon Claimed (Werewolf Dens #2) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,77

accepted. Their words will haunt them a lot more than they haunt you.”

We were still for a time.

“Thank you, baby girl,” he whispered.

I leaned my head on his shoulder. “Anytime.”

20

I tried to shrug off the itch crawling over my skin. The waning crescent moon—so Google had informed me—was a sliver in the sky. My long-sleeve top and jeans were irritating to the extreme as the slow strangulation of light created a dark hunger that wanted to consume me.

We’ll need to shift after the game, my wolf said.

Agreed.

“The cabin seems to be working for you,” Pascal said.

I glanced at the marshal. “I feel much better.”

With our daily runs, we’d never felt stronger. We could snap through fallen tree limbs with a chomp of our razor-sharp teeth. Everything was more in wolf form, but even with two legs, I was unimaginably powerful. And so aware of my surroundings. Our raised position over Clay allowed us to see the detailed markings of a chickadee five hundred metres away. It was nothing short of incredible.

I’d looked to our morning runs as something I had to do. How wrong I’d been.

Each time, I learned something more about my wolf and marvelled at some new connection to the land that my senses provided.

“If any of the head team remained unconvinced of your choice, I believe they’ve changed their mind.”

Not Valerie. She put on an excellent show, but she couldn’t fool my new nose.

“I’m glad to hear it,” I said as the first cannon boomed. “It was an irregular request.”

Pascal smiled at her tablet. “Perhaps irregular is what this tribe has needed for a long time.”

I could not figure this woman out. “You think?”

“I do.”

“Not as irregular as Murphy though?” I pretended to adjust my binoculars, relying on my nose for her reaction.

It didn’t disappoint.

Shock.

Fear.

So much fear it rankled my predatory instincts.

“I wonder if Murphy told Herc he’d shifted to a Luther.” I lowered the binoculars.

Pascal was as flustered as I’d ever seen. This could be a stupid course of action considering my allies grew thinner each day.

Perhaps I was sick of lies.

“I don’t know what happened that day, Pascal,” I said. “I don’t need to know unless you’d like to tell me. What I would like to know is why you lied to your head steward. Herc is gone. Your loyalty is to me.”

She closed her eyes. “What we did that day doesn’t go away because Herc died.”

And there it was.

“How did he do it?”

“Cut the rope. Made me swear to secrecy.”

I couldn’t imagine anyone forcing this woman to do something. She was marshal for a reason. Pascal upheld the rules above all. So what did Herc have over her?

“If you lie to me again, we’ll have a problem,” I told her. “And if you need something from my office in the future, you need only ask.”

Pink tinged her cheeks. “Understood, Head Steward.”

“Let’s focus on Clay.”

I returned my attention to the grid, scanning the area sans binoculars. They were a joke with my better sight.

The east and west team were busy digging. They’d dig as far into the clay rises as possible and then pack the entrances. Hopefully that would prevent Luthers from filling in our tunnels between times. We’d only know if the plan was successful the next time we played here.

Tunnels were a long-term plan. Years, really.

We’d had pitifully few ideas for Clay this week. Water was the real whammy for us, but Clay allowed so little room for new tactics. The terrain was gluggy and played against our physical strengths. The Luthers didn’t allow us to make trap advancements from battle to battle.

My only thought was to use their own past strategy against them. The sky could be utilised. And then, like us, the Luthers could spend the next week picking up tranquiliser darts.

I checked my phone and clicked my walkie. “This is Big Red. Wrap it up. We’ve got fifteen left. Over.”

Three confirmations came through. Nothing from Rhona—no surprises there. With next week off Grids because of the new moon, I’d give her two weeks to sort her shit. If I didn’t see visible change, I’d relieve her of the dawn training position and her team leader position on the field.

A series of “Clears” reached me five minutes before the cannon.

Everyone was in position.

Boom.

My gums ached at the surge in adrenaline in the air, tangible on my tongue.

“You think they’ll sweep the area like last time?” I murmured.

“After Timber, I’d be surprised.”

The counter-strategy team thought so too. The terrain here could lend