Laila's POV
"Which pack did you belong to before, Vanessa?"
The words hit like a freight train. My lungs forgot how to work. Jason's eyes—sharp, green, unrelenting—locked on me like he was hunting prey that had nowhere left to run.
My mouth went dry. Every answer felt like walking into quicksand with weights tied to my ankles.
"I don't have anything to say about that," I managed, steady voice wrapped around shaky bones.
His brows lifted, just a fraction. In this world, dodging wasn't neutral—it meant you were either hiding something ugly or guarding something explosive. Either way, not good.
"Interesting response," he murmured, tilting his head. "Most people are proud of their pack heritage."
Think, Laila. Think.
"Most people aren't neutral liaisons," I shot back. "Pack ties make b
