JASMINE'S POV
The pack house stood in front of me, like something from a dream or maybe a warning. It wasn't just big; it was massive. It was more like a sprawling estate tucked deep in the woods, with the trees surrounding it as if to protect it.
Warm lights shone from windows across different sections of the building, creating soft golden spots in the gathering dusk.
We passed through tall iron gates guarded by men in black, their sharp eyes tracking our every move. Some wore jeans and jackets; others had tactical gear.
Patrols. Real ones. It wasn't subtle. It wasn't welcoming.
My hands curled tighter in my lap as we drove up the long driveway.
"They always like this?" I asked quietly.
Aiden glanced at me, one hand resting on the wheel. "It's protocol. They don't mean anything by it."
I gave him a skeptical look. "Sure doesn't feel friendly."
He smiled faintly, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You'll be fine, Jasmine."
"Define fine," I muttered under my breath.
