Chapter 22 · Daddy's Silver Cage

"Hands up."

I stop at the tree line and raise them. Slow. The kind of slow that says *I'm not here to fight*, even though my claws are halfway out and my wolf's screaming at me to run.

Four rifles swing toward my chest. Floodlights burn my eyes. The camp smells like gun oil and burnt coffee and *home*, except now everything's too bright and too loud and I can hear seventeen heartbeats before I even see the hunters.

"It's me," I call out. My voice doesn't shake. Small miracle. "Rena Grey. Hunter 247. I need to see Commander Grey."

Silence. Then boots on gravel.

Foster steps out from behind the flood barrier first, rifle trained center mass. I know him. Trained with him. His jaw's tight and his hands aren't steady.

"Rena?" His voice cracks. "Jesus Christ, we thought you were dead."

"Not yet."

Lai moves up beside him, rifle still locked on me. She won't meet my eyes. "Turn around. Slow."

I do. Let them see the back of my neck, my empty holsters, the jacket that used to be hunter blacks.