Celeste never thought she’d find herself ankle-deep in mud while dressed in battle-ready leather and arguing with a sarcastic Alpha who apparently thought sarcasm was a strategy.

“I said hold it steady!” she shouted, glaring at Hunter, who was currently wrestling with a stubborn tripwire trap that was supposed to catch rogues, not bicker-happy werewolves.

“I am holding it steady,” Hunter huffed, bracing against the tree. “Maybe if you didn’t insist on over-engineering every trap ...