The packhouse was very quiet that night. Too quiet. Jaden had just finished patrol and stepped into his room, ready to collapse. His shoulders ached from the sparring contest that he'd had back there at the boundary with some of the guards to pass time. But the thought about the rogues dominated his mind. All he wanted was a shower and a bed, a long night's sleep so he could wake up tomorrow feeling fresh and easy to go at it again. But the moment he shut the door, he felt it. A presence. He turned around when the familiar scent slid up his nostrils. Carolina was there, leaned against the wall near his dresser with her arms crossed and her lips pulled into a small, calculated smile. Jaden froze. "What the hell are you doing in my room?" She pushed off the wall slowly and walked toward him. Every step was slow, quiet and meant for a purpose - the purpose was to get him to do what she wanted. Her eyes, Jaden noticed, were soft, but too soft like she had practiced the look in a mirr
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