I squeal – just a tiny bit – with excitement when I wake up in the morning, pressing my hands to Jackson’s chest and sitting up, looking over at Rafe and Jesse’s bed through the still-open curtain.
“Is it time?” I ask, gleeful. “Can we go? Did the weapons come? Did they deliver my paintball rifle?”
“No, it’s not Midwinter for gun nuts, Ariel,” Rafe murmurs in his bed, blearily rubbing his eye, clearly not as awake and excited as me. “They don’t bring the weapons to our room – obviously, they’ll deliver them to the field.”
“Oh,” I say, slumping a little in my disappointment. “Well, that’s okay, I’ll –“
But before I can further lay out my plans, Jackson’s big arm sweeps up, knocking me down off his chest and into a pile of pillows. “No magic energy for you today,” he groans, turning o
