Jasmin's POV
The words slipped from Max's lips like honey laced with poison, and reality slammed into me with brutal force. What had I just done? I had touched him like a woman would touch a man she desired. I had leaned into his space, broken every rule of my disguise, acted purely on instinct as Jasmin instead of Evan.
Right in front of the very Alphas I was supposed to deceive.
My hand dropped from his hair instantly. I stepped back with practiced smoothness, masking the terror that clawed at my throat. I refused to meet his gaze. I couldn't risk what he might see there.
Instead, I turned toward the pack of bastards circling us like vultures.
Behind me came the sound of Max's low chuckle, dark and knowing. A chair scraped against concrete as he settled himself near the rotting doorframe. Wood creaked under his weight.
One leg crossed casually over the other, cigarette burning between his fingers like a beacon in the dim light.
