Alaric
I left Cricket's explanation unfinished and crossed the den at a dead run, Bear and Marlowe close behind me, every instinct screaming that whoever waited at that gate wasn't a coincidence arriving at exactly this moment.
*[Careful,]* Rook warned, already alert, already reading danger in the mere timing of it. *[Whoever she is, she chose this exact moment on purpose.]*
*I know.*
The woman standing beyond the outer gate looked nothing like what I'd braced myself for — not Vance's brutal, obvious menace, but something considerably more composed, dressed unremarkably, posture relaxed despite standing alone outside a motorcycle club's territory with no visible backup anywhere nearby.
"You must be King," she said, before I'd said a single word, her voice pleasant, almost conversation
