AVERY

"Who's your maker?" Chris asked, arms still crossed.

"That's a rather personal question, don't you think?" Zaden replied. "Only if you make it personal."

Zaden's smile broadened, and his fangs lengthened again. "Shall we make it personal?"

Chris snorted. "Is that supposed to intimidate me?"

Bo, Eliza, and I shared a side-eye. I rolled my eyes at Eliza and whispered, "Too much testosterone?"

She giggled quietly.

A wave of dominant werewolf magic shot from Chris, directed entirely at Zaden, but I still got a hint of it. My easy smile vanished.

Whoa. Chris's power made my shoulders fold inward and forced me to submit my neck even though I tried to fight it. I gritted my teeth.

Chris was obviously young if he hadn't learned that werewolves shouldn't assert their dominance every time they got into a verbal dispute. Either that or he had a personal vendetta against vamps.

Clicking footsteps sounded behind us, then a woman called, "Is this where the new recruits wait?"

Chris sucked his magic back inside him, and the heavy feeling in the air dispersed. I glowered at him, but his attention was already focused on the latest arrival.

A woman sauntered our way. She was probably around my age and had wavy auburn hair and chiseled cheekbones. Given that she was damn near six feet tall and was built of sculpted muscle, I strongly suspected that she was a female werewolf.

When she said to Chris—"Didn't your mother teach you better manners? My mom would have killed my brother for using his dominance like that."—I knew for certain that she was a wolf.

She smiled and winked at me.

"Which pack are you from?" Chris asked her. "Alberta. You?" she replied.

"Idaho."

"Ah," Zaden interjected. "A homeboy. Is this your first time leaving the nest? Or maybe I should say the den?"

A low growl rumbled from Chris, and he stepped forward.

I immediately lunged between them and placed my hands on each man's chest. Power vibrated through my palms as their magic registered in my internal radar. Despite Zaden being a new vamp, he wasn't a weakling. "Okay, fellas. Let's try and play nice, hmm? We have three months together. Might as well try to get along."

Eliza laughed, the sound as sweet and high as tinkling bells. "Already the ambassador, I see." She grinned at me, and a lock of purple hair fell over her forehead.

I lowered my hands since both Zaden and Chris had stepped back.

"I grew up with two ambassadors," I told Eliza. "I suppose you could say I've been in training since I was born."

The tall female werewolf eyed me curiously. "And who might you be?"

"Avery Meyers. My parents are Bryce and Danielle Meyers, Both ambassador. And you are?" "Charlotte Morris."

I nodded knowingly. The Morris line was a well-known family in the pack-run town of Granite Springs, Alberta. They were descendants from the Originals, not like my half-werewolf mother or myself.

"What job are you going through basic training for?" Chris asked Charlotte.

She tossed her thick auburn hair over a shoulder and planted a hand on her hip. "Newest recruit for Squad Three. What about you?"

Chris's grin stretched across his face. "I'll be in Squad Six."

Charlotte inclined her head but didn't seem as impressed with Chris as he was with her. "And the rest of you?" she asked us.

One by one, everyone recounted which position they were here for. When she got to me, I shrugged. "None. As you might have guessed I'm only here for the three months of training required by the Supernatural Ambassador Institute. I won't be SF staff."

Charlotte arched an eyebrow. "So you've already been accepted into the Institute, obviously, if you're here."

"That's right."

I expected to see a hint of derision flash across her face now that she knew my full history. It certainly wouldn't have been the first time I'd experienced it since everyone knew most ambassadors were either mixed- blood or on the weaker side of their magical species. It was what made ambassadors so good at their jobs since we had to rely on our communication skills to get us through situations as our magic was usually modest at best.

But instead of scorn, Charlotte nudged me. "We should bunk together. It wouldn't hurt to have a friend in the Institute, and I'd love to hear about the places you visited growing up."

"Sure, although I don't know if we get to pick where we live, and Eliza—" I glanced toward the fairy who watched us avidly. "She'll probably want to crash where we do since we're all women, right?"

Eliza grinned, revealing rows of pointy teeth. "I would most love to."

A further rush of magic billowed into my back as another car entered the garage. Before I could talk more with Charlotte or Eliza, a seventh recruit joined us.

He was almost as tall as Chris but not as broad. Little blue sparks emitted from his fingertips, as if he was unaware of it, but those blue sparks gave away his species—sorcerer. And considering his swell of magic that flowed over me, I knew he was full-blooded.

His magic didn't abate either, like it usually did after I detected a supernatural's strength. It clung to him, like a hint of cologne when a man stood near.

Jeepers creepers, he was powerful.

"Hey guys, you're all new recruits too? I'm Nick Baker." He grinned, his demeanor friendly, but before I could ask what his position would be, the door inched open behind Chris.

A wave of dominant werewolf energy registered in my senses from whoever had cracked it open. I shivered, and goosebumps broke out across my skin.

Shit. If I thought Nick, the newest sorcerer packed some heat, that was nothing compared to what had just come from behind me. And strangely enough, something about the newcomer's power felt . . . familiar . . . but before I could place it, a man stepped over the threshold.

My jaw dropped.

I blinked, but he still stood there. No way. No freakin' way.

Wyatt Jamison stood in the doorway.

The Wyatt Jamison.

Holy shit.

He looked exactly as I remembered him—four inches over six feet, brown hair and moss-green eyes, a square jaw, and a body sculpted from chiseled muscle and smooth flesh.

As the third son of the British Columbia Alpha, Wyatt Jamison was a pure-blooded werewolf, and like he had eight years ago, he still oozed power, but unlike when I'd known him as a teenager, his power now dominated the room.

He took a step forward, surveying all of us. Chris stood ramrod straight, his eager smile returning. Everyone else shuffled their feet nervously.

I did my best to calm my breathing, but it grew shallow.

When Wyatt's appraisal passed over my face, he didn't hesitate. Not even a hint of recognition crossed his features.

I let out my breath, and my shoulders drooped, but seriously, what did I expect? I wasn't exactly the memorable type.

After sizing us up, Wyatt placed his hands behind his back. "New recruits, I'm Major Wyatt Jamison, your new squad commander."

Despite trying to stop it, a shiver danced down my spine. His voice was so deep, just like I remembered it.

"You may follow me," he said.

With that, Wyatt did a one-eighty and walked back through the doorway into the SF.

Charlotte leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Damn, he's a hunk." "Oh?" I picked up my bag. "I didn't notice."

She snorted. "Please, girl. You're as white as a ghost. Anyone with eyes can see you noticed."

Before I could reply, she gave me a sly grin and followed Wyatt into the Supernatural Forces headquarters.