I spend most of the morning plotting mischief like a woman possessed. I finish my Luna duties with uncharacteristic speed—surprisingly productive when vengeance is on the line—and immediately set my sights on destruction. Well, harmless destruction. Mostly.
“Babe,” I say sweetly, padding into the bedroom with the kind of innocent expression that should never be trusted, “I need supplies for my prank. I want to go to town. Will you come with us, please?”
I throw in the puppy dog eyes for good measure.
Caden doesn’t even try to resist. He stretches with a groan and grins. “Well, how can I say no to that? Who’s coming?”
“May and Max. Ryan’s still blue… so.” I snort mid-sentence, already picturing him sulking in a bubble of cobalt rage.
Caden chuckles too. It’s a beautiful, casual moment.
