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Chapter thirty
‘We’re Back’ Valley of Wolves
JAZ MONROE
My blade sails through the air, flipping smoothly and gliding like a hawk through the sky. My heart beats in rhythm with each turn of the dagger as it fast approaches the bullseye and… sails right past it and into the darkness of the woods.
Blow, Knix, and Knox all howl with laughter like the clowns they are, jostling their drinks and spilling the alcohol to the grass below.
“Shut your ass cheeks, Knox, like you can do an-any betterrrr.”Damn, this homemade gin is good.
Knox grins before spinning and sending his dagger slicing through the air and landing right on the bullseye, in the same groove as my earlier shot.
He turns to me and pulls my half-emptied cup from my hand while I glare at him, “And that, my sweet Jaz, is how you win a game. No more drinking for you.”
“Aww, you’re a party pooper,” I punch him on the arm, but it’s Knix who grunts.
“You hit me, ya goon.”
“Yeah, she’s wasted, but it’s nothing her wolf can’t cure.” Roman teases as he scoops me up into his arms like I weigh nothing at all.
He’s right though. Now that my drink has been taken and I’m not taking sip after sip, I can feel my supernatural healing cleansing my liver and bloodstream of the alcohol.
You’re such a fun sponge,I tell my wolf.
“Is she narrating herself?” Knix giggles from somewhere.
Wait.
“Did I say that out loud?”
Everyone around me chuckles again, and I can’t help the smile on my face. This is the most fun we’ve had…ever. We’ve bobbed for apples, well, I did, but I switched out the edible apples from Case’s tub for wax ones. Biting those was a bit of a surprise to him and had given me just enough time to beat him.
I kicked everyone’s ass during games of darts with daggers. Atticus is surprisingly good with a blade, as is Roman but they’re not quite up to my speed.
In the paintball area, though, yeah…they kicked my ass.Easily. They couldn’t beat the K twins though, they’re fast as fuck, boi!
By the time Roman sets me down on a picnic table, I’m barely feeling the effects of the gin. That is a damn good brew, but us Werewolves have to drink it back-to-back in order to reach a good level of drunk. Thank Ancients I’ll never know what a hangover feels like.
“There’s a demon at the gate!” One of the prospects shouts with a mixture of fear and adrenaline shaking his voice.
“Alphas!” Blow hollers as he runs toward us, his father right on his heels, “Led and Zeppelin have a group of Werewolves asking for Jaz Monroe.”
“What?” I jump off the table, no longer feeling the effects of the gin, “Who are they?”
Knix runs over to us, looking as sober as a warrior, with my daggers in hand. I take them from her as people begin to gather, waiting for instructions.
“They don’t look right. Their eyes are—”
Blow’s words get cut off when an ungodly roar from the gate rents the air. All the hairs on my body stand at attention as a ball of dread settles on my chest.
“Give me Jaz Monroe or I’ll give you a fate worse than death!”
Everyone runs toward the front gate, myself included, but Roman catches me by the arm, dragging me toward the building.
“Stop, Roam! What are you doing?” I slap at his arm and contemplate using a dagger on him.
“If you think for one second, I’m just going to let you march off to danger, you got me fucking twisted. I’ve watched Atticus break each day a little more than the last because Zatrina left him. And they’re un-fucking-mated, Jaz. If something were to happen to you, this whole pack would be doomed, and I’d most likely be the one to ruin it,” he pulls me closer, wrapping his arm around my waist, “the intimacy of being understood, of being equally matched in flaws and perfections is so unexpected, it’sfated. If I lose you, there’ll be nothing left for me.”
