Chapter 69

MADELINE'S POV  I winced as Freya dabbed the wet antiseptic cloth against the wound on my arm. I could feel her eyes on me, glancing up from time to time to where Louisiana sat at the far end of the camp with someone tending to her wounds.  "You got something on your mind?" I asked Freya.  "Beats me," she exhaled. "But there's something different about Louisiana. What happened between you two?"  "Nothing," I said. I didn't want to talk about it—or talk about the mission either. "Maybe she's still rattled from the fight," I added.  Freya narrowed her eyes. "You are telling me that Louisiana is rattled because of a fight? The same Louisiana who never misses a chance to remind us that she's the toughest in the pack? Sure, Louisiana behaves like an asshole, but she isn't one to run away or be rattled because of a fight. You make a terrible liar, you know that?"  I didn't answer right away. I knew the words I said to Louisiana had struck a chord—either of reflection or, more likely, intense