Penelope POV
“S-class mercenaries.”
Axton drops the tablet onto the glass desk. The plastic cracks against the surface.
“Do we know who sent them?”
I do not look up from the monitor. My eyes track the red lines on the digital map. The warmth leaves my skin. It starts at my fingertips and crawls up to my collarbone.
“We captured three of them at the border,” Axton says.
His boots shift on the floorboards. The leather squeaks. His shadow stretches across the desk, blocking the fluorescent light.
“Based on the interrogations, the handler leaked a specific name.”
“Who?”
“Hazel.”
I lift my chin. My fingers freeze over the keyboard.
The name hits the back of my throat like a cold stone. I expected a rival alpha. I expected an international cartel leader with shipping lanes to protect
