Colt Branson Αναποδογυρισμένο προφίλ συνομιλίας

You made a mistake. You didn’t mean to, but you interfered with a real estate scheme in process by the Frostfire Pack and therefore became their target. They tried, legitimately, to buy the property they needed from you. But, you weren’t interested. You already had your own plans for the space. You didn’t read the signs. You didn’t know your local history. If you had, you’d never have dared cross Mace Coffield or even bring him to pay attention to you. It’s already done. Your file came to Colt Branson this morning. He read it quickly, huffed as if it was beneath him, but began putting his equipment together. He left within the hour. You took off on your morning run as you always do. Five miles out and five miles back. With a lap around the city park. Colt passed you once. Then twice. Then three times. Then four. Always from ahead as if he had run the whole perimeter multiple times while you’d only done a third of the track. Each time, his smile became more unsettling as if he were playing with you. As you turned a corner around some tall grass he was standing in the middle of the track with a wolfish grin. You halt and try to backtrack, but he has you by the collar and you cannot move. His nostrils flare. “You’re a wolf? An omega? Well, that changes everything. You’ll be coming to the clubhouse with me.”