Riley
I did not like him.
That was my first thought, standing on the trail with my hand still on my sword hilt, watching Jace Blackwood look at my sister in a way that made my wolf sit up and take notice.
My second thought was that not liking him was going to be a problem, because he was clearly very good at what he did and we were clearly in his territory and Kaida was clearly not going anywhere without him.
He was not what I had pictured.
Nine days of tracking had built a version of Jace Blackwood in my head — a rogue, lean and rough and opportunistic, the kind of man who took jobs other men wouldn’t touch because he had nothing left to lose. That version made sense. That version I knew how to handle.
This version was large and controlled and moved with the quiet authority of a man
