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probably wouldn’t like you even if you weren’t a human.” He winced. “That came out wrong. All I mean is that there aren’t many people Jackson tolerates, never mind likes. Not much of a people person, our Jackson.”
    Marcus gathered deadfall from the edge of the clearing and broke it into chunks small enough to feed into the fire, creating a steady blaze. Exhaustion weighed at her limbs—other than being unconscious, she really hadn’t slept in days—and after draping her jeans, windbreaker, tee, underwear, and second pair of socks over tree branches to dry, Kirra found a seat on a flat stone near the fire, accepting that they weren’t going anywhere until morning. Marcus settled beside her, close enough that every time she inhaled, his warm, heady musk assailed her.
    “How about you?” she asked. “Do you hate humans?” Her voice was strange. Breathy and husky all at once. She cleared her throat.
    Marcus tilted his head and grinned. “Me? No. I try not to hate anybody. Takes too much effort.”
    Kirra poked the fire with a stick. “You’re lucky,” she said.
    “Oh? You have someone on your hate list?” His voice was carefully neutral.
    Kirra rubbed a hand over her eyes. “A few.”
    Light footsteps behind her signaled Jackson’s return and saved her from the follow-up questions she could tell Marcus was dying to ask. For such a huge man, Jackson was light as a dancer on his feet. She had a feeling the only reason she’d heard him approach was because he let her.
    “It’s clear,” Jackson said, hunkering down on the other side of the fire. His dark eyes bored into hers. “Why were the soldiers after you?”
    “I told you, they think I have something they want.” She poked the fire again, stirring up ashes and watching sparks fly.
    “What do you have?”
    Superpowers the government wants to research and harness to develop unbeatable super soldiers. “I’d really feel more comfortable speaking to your alpha about this,” she said. It sounded crazy enough in her own head. Jackson, with his closed mind, would never believe her. Marcus might, but she couldn’t risk having them leave her behind. Better to wait and tell the alpha.
    “You’re not going to get anywhere near the alpha until—”
    “Ease up, Jackson,” Marcus interrupted. “I think we all need some food and a good night’s rest. We can discuss this in the morning with clear heads.”
    Jackson surged to his feet, muttered something about taking the first watch, and stalked off. Marcus watched him go, shaking his head. “Sorry about that,” he said. “Jackson can be a bit intense, especially when it comes to protecting the pack and the alpha.”
    “I understand. I’d just really rather speak to the alpha first.”
    “Okay. No more questions tonight, I promise.”
    He helped her change her bandage, then they sat in companionable silence, munching on trail mix Marcus produced from his pack. The warmth of the fire seeped into her bones, and Kirra took off her boots and socks. She draped the socks over the tops of the boots and angled them toward the fire so they could dry out overnight. A small, nagging voice of self-preservation and cynicism warned her that she shouldn’t be so comfortable with the men—they were virtually strangers, not to mention shifters. She was in the woods, essentially at their mercy. She shut the voice up. If they’d meant her harm, they’d had plenty of time to do that already. Like Marcus had said, it took effort to hate people. Fear was the same way. It would suck her dry if she let it. Occasionally you just had to trust your instincts, and her instincts told her she was safe. She was safe...
    “Kirra? Kirra?” Someone was shaking her shoulder, and Kirra jerked awake, head snapping up.
    Marcus rubbed her shoulder where he’d been shaking. “It’s okay. I was just afraid you’d topple into the fire. I’ve set up a bed for you over there.”
    Kirra eyed the “bed” he’d set up. The top