Kingsley’s grin was all teeth. “The Moon’s got a twisted sense of humor.”
“Yeah,” I said. “She really does.”
Kendrick leaned forward now. “Where did you come from, Riggs?”
My jaw tightened. “I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
“The pack you were born in,” he clarified, tone still deceptively mild. “You said your people have been rogue for years, but rogues are made, not born. So, from which pack do you come?”
I hesitated. Rufus went silent — that heavy, coiled kind of silence that meant he didn’t like this conversation one bit.
My first instinct was to tell them to go to hell. I’d done that before — plenty of times — when people pried too deep. Being rogue meant deciding which questions got answers and which didn’t. Who earned your truth and who earned a fist.
But this time wasn’t abo
