Brielle's POV
Back at the packhouse, I’d barely made it to my room before a familiar tension crept up my spine. I could feel him before I saw him: the commanding presence that made the air feel heavier, sharper.
I didn’t have time to shut the door before Jake appeared in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame, his expression dark and unreadable.
He didn’t bother knocking. Of course not. Jake didn’t do polite.
“I thought I told you to go straight to your room,” he said, his voice low, but the irritation clear.
“I did,” I shot back, folding my arms over my chest.
“I guess you weren't fast enough.”
"Do you even hear yourself? You're absolutely impossible."
“And you’re so reckless, you never think about the consequences of your actions, do you?" he snapped, stepping inside
