“Come ‘ere, Shortcake,” Ash says to Mirabelle as he leans on one crate.
Mirabelle hops off the one she’s sitting on immediately following Ash’s command.
My heart pounds as jealousy pumps through my veins. She follows his directions so naturally.
Rage lets out a soft growl as Mirabelle moves away from him, but she just offers him a reassuring smile, and the guy stops instantly.
It’s honestly crazy to see how good of a handle she has over him and his emotions. I’ve heard stories of what he was like before Mirabelle came into the picture, and it honestly doesn’t compute.
Not when he’s so... obedient now. I wouldn’t quite call him docile.
The bruises that’re going to form on my back from being slammed into the mats repeatedly during our sparring session would say otherwise. The guy’s a fierce fighter.
But he listens to Mirabelle. And sometimes to Rowan.
“Hi,” Mirabelle says softly, stepping between Ash’s open legs with a smile. “Your fights are always so short. You move so quickly.”
“It’s ‘cause unlike these other meatheads, I actually use my brain,” Ash chuckles, his voice low as he rests his hands against her hips.
“Hey,” I growl, narrowing my eyes at him. “You lost that fucking sparring match, bird-for-brains.”
He shoots me a toothy grin over Mirabelle’s shoulder, and Iswear, if Rowan weren’t scowling at us all already, he’d fucking stick his tongue out. The fucker enjoys riling everyone up.
Asshole.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Rowan says, flipping to a different page in the notebook he carries around with him everywhere. “We’ve gotta go over the plans for this weekend. The big fight is coming up. Are you all feeling ready?”
“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Ash answers for us, tugging Mirabelle closer to his body as he rests his chin on her shoulder.
He’s smart enough not to scent mark her in front of Rage and I. I think that’d make us freak the fuck out. But the fucker definitely gets close.
“I’m going to have to give you all doses of the booster drug,” Rowan says, pursing his lips together. “Pretty big ones.”
My expression instantly sours, right along with my eucalyptus scent.
“I know you don’t like it,” Rowan says, letting out a soft cough at my overwhelming dominance. “But all the other fighters you’ll be up against have been taking doses much higher than you for a very long time. It’ll put you at a major disadvantage if you don’t take them. Plus, it’ll be suspicious.”
His words don’t do much to set me at ease. I hate the way those drugs make me feel. And now he’s telling me he has to give usmore?
“Where’re you going?” Ash growls, tugging Mirabelle back against his chest.
“Don’t be selfish,” she says, pushing a single hand against Ash’s chest as she narrows her eyes at him.
“Kittens got claws,” he huffs. His hands flex along her hips once before his hands fall to his side.
To my surprise, Mirabelle steps away from him and towards me.
Well, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. Mirabelle has a way about her of knowing exactly who needs her at any point in time.
I think it’s the one thing that’s kept us from tearing each other’s heads off during these joint training sessions.
Mirabelle truly doesn’t have a favorite out of the three of us.
Four of us, actually. It’s obvious to anyone with eyeballs that Mirabelle cares for the beta kid, too.
“You’re thinking a lot,” Mirabelle murmurs, stepping in front of me and reaching up to gently press her thumb against my brows to smooth them out, uncaring of how sweaty I am.
“I am,” I say, my voice low as I inhale deeply.
