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His lips curved into a slow smile, revealing a hint of mischief. That was something he was capable of. It was said that wolf shifters possessed an innate charm that made it impossible to resist their magnetic personalities. They would put her at ease, ask questions to uncover her fears, and then soothe her worries with their charm. It was time to stop being patient and go on the offensive.

She won’t stand a chance.

The first thing Jayden noticed was the sudden quiet. LaTrisha, Hope, Connell, and Jace had been chatting about what their new homes would look like before they all fell silent. She stiffened when Hope whispered a warning under her breath to Connell.

Her back was to the group, but she still picked up on the faint footsteps. She had been training herself for years to open all her senses. The hair on the back of her neck rose, as if aware that predators were close.

Too close.

She stood, gripping the lance she always carried in her right hand while holding her backpack in her left. In a situation of fight or flight, she could sacrifice her bag. The one thing she would never give up without a fight were her weapons… and she had plenty of those hidden on her body.

She swallowed nervously and turned around, her heart pounding in her chest. Suddenly, a peculiar warmth washed over her, slowly radiating from her toes to her head. She tightly controlled her facial expression, molding it into a neutral mask. At least, she hoped it was. She noticed a subtle change in the men’s expressions when their nostrils flared and wondered if they could sense her nervousness.

“Jayden,” Van greeted.

She remained silent, her lips sealed shut. She had been trying to avoid this moment, but now it had arrived, and there was no escaping it. She breathed through her mouth.

“What the hell are you thinking? Or should we say not thinking?” Peterson growled.

She wasn’t having this conversation with them. They had no right to pry into her actions, or lack thereof. Resentment flared inside her, a searing heat that threatened to consume her, and she started to turn away.

Gentle but firm, strong fingers snapped out and firmly grasped her arm. Her response was immediate and impulsive, with no thought. Her bag fell to the ground as she swiftly pivoted in the opposite direction. Peterson’s head snapped back when she pressed the tip of her sharp lance under his chin.

“You do not have permission to touch me—ever!” she hissed in a low voice.

Peterson slowly pulled his fingers back, releasing her arm. Jayden pressed the tip a little harder, enough to break the skin under his chin. A tiny droplet of blood oozed from the spot.

So, they do bleed.

The thought didn’t give her any satisfaction. She leaned down and picked up her bag, feeling the weight of it in her hand as she kept a vigilant eye on Peterson and Van.

“Before you kill Peterson for being an ass, please understand he is only saying that because he—we—care about what happens to you,” Van explained in a calm, soothing tone.

Jayden flashed Van a heated glare. “Save it for someone who cares. I’ll tell you this once, and one time only. Stay the hell away from me.”

She pulled her lance away and backed up several feet before she turned and strode away. Her heart was pounding and her hands were trembling, but she refused to look back. Deep down, she hoped they believed her bravado.

“Hey, just so you know he wasn’t lying! We do care about you,” Peterson called.

Jayden shook her head and kept walking. Her lips twitched with reluctant amusement at the pouting, defensive tone in his voice. She didn’t know who she surprised more with her little antic, herself or them! One thing that had surprised her was the amusement in Van’s eyes and the strange gleam in Peterson’s that looked almost like—pride.

“Crazy wolf shifters,” she muttered.

Chapter 6

Lucien Katmoore sat on the bunk in his cell and stared at the door. He rolled his shoulders and straightened his leg, wincing at the twinge of pain. The wound had healed better than his pride. The familiar sound of boots against the polished stone made him smile.

He sat up and waited as the guard outside his cell unlocked the door and opened it. He rose from the bunk, grimacing when the chain around his ankle clunked against the floor. He stared at his captor with a raised eyebrow.

“Have you been demoted, General?” he asked.

Commander Chawni Reed walked over to the table and placed the tray on it before she motioned for him to sit on the narrow bench bolted to the floor. Irritation flared inside Lucien, and a low growl rumbled from him before he could smother it. His irritation grew when she shot him an amused look.

“Calm your cat, Lucien,” she ordered.

His lip pulled back into a slight, mocking sneer. “Let me loose and I will.”

She tsked, stepped around the table, and slid onto the second narrow bench. She sat straight, with her hands folded together, and waited, watching him with stunning dark brown eyes that seemed to notice everything. He knew she would continue studying him until he complied with her command. Resentment built inside him at her control over him.