Victor's gaze locked onto the handshake, his eyes narrowing to slits.
Behind Felicity, Damien's scaled tail coiled possessively around her ankle.
At her side, Voss's fingers drifted toward her hair, hovering protectively.
Across from them, every member of Snow team went rigid, muscles tightening in unison.
The two teams regarded each other, seven men lined behind Ivan and Legend, Victor and his group crouched behind their vanguard. For all the grins, every hand was near a weapon, every smile a brandished blade.
Ivan did not release Felicity's hand immediately. Not long enough to make it a challenge.
Just long enough that people who watched predators for a living noticed.
His grip shifted slightly instead of letting go outright. His thumb brushed once across the side of her knuckle as if he were testing the weight of something delicate.
