Jason's POV
I'd picked the coffee shop deliberately—miles from pack territory, buried in neutral ground where uncomfortable truths could surface without consequence.
Riley Mitchell arrived punctually. Her gaze swept past Marcus before landing on me, and I watched her shoulders lock tight. She understood this wasn't some friendly catch-up.
Marcus and I had claimed the rear booth hours earlier. High-backed walls created acoustic privacy.
Riley approached with measured steps. Everything about her posture screamed caution.
"Riley." I motioned toward the vacant seat. "I appreciate you making time."
"Like I had much choice?" She lowered herself carefully into the booth.
"Everyone's got choices," Marcus replied, though we all recognized the lie threading through those
