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“You’re a long way from home, human,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Start talking.”

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t even tense. If anything, I caught the slightest tilt of her chin as she cocked her head in my direction like she wasbored.

“Funny,” she muttered. “I was about to say the same thing.”

Jax stepped forward, fists flexing. “You should watch your tone, girl. You’re not in a position to be mouthy.”

“Relax. She’s just testing us,” I said before he could get too worked up. I moved forward and stood in front of her, studying her closer. She was calm, too calm…

She didn’t react, but now that I was closer, I could hear her breathing—steady, careful, the breathing of someone who knew how to control their fear, and that nagging feeling of familiarity wound between my ribs.

“Who sent you?” I asked.

No answer.

“Are you with the Resistance?”

Nothing.

Jax growled, shifting impatiently. “We should put a knife to her throat; see if that loosens her tongue.”

“Try it,” the girl said, and there was something almost amused in her voice. “See how that goes for you.”

I shouldn’t have been impressed.

But I was.

Who the hellwasthis?

I reached out and gripped her chin, tilting her face slightly toward the firelight. A strange sensation passed through me as my fingers brushed her skin—wind-burned but soft, battle-worn but warm and alive.

And then shesmirked.

A cold chill wormed up from the base of my spine. Iknewthat smirk. I just couldn’t place it.

I sighed and let her go.

“Untie her hands,” I ordered.

Jax’s head snapped toward me. “Silas?—”

“Do it.”

Reluctantly, Jax moved behind her and cut the rope. The second her wrists were free, she shook out her hands, rolling her shoulders and lifting her chin, the bold little thing.

Jax hovered behind her, tense, ready to grab her if she tried to bolt.

She didn’t.

The fire crackled next to us, throwing flickering shadows across her face, but she didn’t move to take off the blindfold either.

Something about that got under my skin.

Most prisoners—hell, mostpeople—would have ripped the thing off the second they got the chance. But she just stood there, wrists now free, but hands resting loosely at her sides, like she was completely at ease. Like she wasn’t surrounded by wolves who could tear her apart in an instant.

That kind of composure wasn’t normal. It wasn’tnatural.

It was so familiar.