Ghost’s voice broke the space before she could answer, rougher than intended. “Name?”

She straightened, meeting his eyes without flinching. “Call me... whatever you want. I’m here to shoot what you tell me to, sir.”

Price’s gaze flicked between them, sensing something but not naming it. “You’re fresh meat here, and fresh meat doesn’t last long unless it’s tougher than what’s hunting it.”

She smirked faintly. “Then it’s the hunters who should be worried.”

Under the hood, Ghost’s mouth curved. She had no idea just how right she was.

🤤😜🤤