Rhydian Arkwright had fought men who feared him and men who did not understand enough to be afraid.
The Roarke captain in the snow belonged to the second kind.
Vespera Morcant stood beside the weigh platform with blood beneath her nose. Her open eyes did not track movement. One hand searched empty air until Sable Wythe guided it to the utility vehicle.
Rhydian kept his Alpha pressure contained.
It would have been easier to end the standoff with one Command.
Vespera had already paid for another man’s ease.
The captain pointed toward the Roarke trucks. “Her refusal is invalid under emergency impairment.”
“Mine is not,” Rhydian said.
“You admitted you have no jurisdiction.”
“Over her.” Rhydian looked toward the trackers blocking the road. “I have authority over northern trade safety.
