“LUKE, NO!” Flynn shouted.
“SOMEONE GRAB THAT CHICKEN!” Gryff added.
Behind them, I could see a crowd gathering at the edge of the cocktail area, guests pointing and laughing, Kingmans hollering encouragement or warnings, I couldn’t tell which. Jules had her hands cupped around her mouth.
“LUKE SKYCOCKER, YOU STOP RIGHT THERE!” she bellowed, but Luke was not taking orders.
“Hey, buddy,” I greeted him as he approached, crouching down, but he zipped right past me, wings flapping, and launched himself onto The Beast’s back.
He immediately attacked the cow’s furry head, like it was a nest of worms, pulling out strands with his beak while fluffing his feathers out as far as they could go, making himself look twice his normal size.
The Beast did not seem to notice. Or care. He just blinked his big cow eyes and continued chewing his cud.
“Is he... is he trying to fight the cow?” Chris asked, incredulous.
“I think he’s trying to establish dominance.”
“Over a cow that weighs literally a thousand pounds?”
“Luke has never let reality get in the way of his ambitions.”
By now, Flynn and Gryff had caught up, both of them doubled over and panting. Isak was still filming.
“This is going on FlipFlop,” Isak announced.
“The hell it is,” I said. “Luke, what are you doing, you crazy bird?”
I scooped him off the cow’s back and tucked him under my arm like a feathery, furious football. He squawked indignantly. I swear he looked over his shoulder and stuck his tongue out at the cow.
“Someday I am going to turn you into coq au vin, you lunatic,” Chris said.
“Chris! You will not. He is our first child.”
Both Chris and Luke stared at me, aghast.
“Absolutely not,” Chris stated.
Luke clucked in agreement.
From the cocktail area, I heard Declan’s voice boom across the field: “IS THE CHICKEN OKAY?”
“THE CHICKEN IS FINE!” Chris yelled back. “THE CHICKEN IS JUST INSANE!”
“We should probably get back,” I said, trying to keep a straight face as Luke continued to glare at The Beast. “Before Luke declares war on any more livestock.”
This could have been a wedding disaster. Chris took my free hand, the one not full of angry rooster, and we walked back toward our wedding reception together.
“So,” he said. “Good wedding so far?”
I looked at him. My husband. My best friend. My home.
“The best,” I said. “Chicken drama and all.”
COMMAND LOG 4: BATTLE OF BEAST
LUKE
Red Rooster 5: Leader of Pet Squadron
