Really?” I scoffed, staring open-mouthed at Asher through the glass of the holding cell he was in. “Is this necessary?”

Asher paced back and forth, his head snapping in my direction whenever I spoke. His eyes were still that violent shade of gold, telling me his wolf was still in charge and very much feral.

The holding cell he sat in was a part of the newer renovations Asher had orchestrated. There were dozens of these cubby-like rooms, each one with a cot and a small table, reinforced with military grade equipment to keep the prisoners contained.

I bet Asher never thought he’d land himself in one.

Both men standing before me were grim, their lips pursed, and eyes cloaked in shadows. I was used to seeing that particular expression on Brandon, but not Zeke. Neither one appeared too happy about how things played out, but I needed to keep the conversation going. If I didn’t, I’d start thinking about what they barged in on and have no choice but to drown in embarrassment.

Brandon spoke fi