Natalia stood in the prep room with her girls, which was how she'd started thinking about them despite the absurdity of the concept. Her girls. Her pack. Her competition for the heart of the most infuriating man she'd ever met.
The room reeked of antiseptic and nervous sweat, the kind of sterile anxiety that clung to concrete walls and fluorescent lighting. Every surface felt too clean, too bright, like they were being prepped for surgery rather than combat.
