(Chapter song ‘Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time' by Panic! At The Disco)

ANNA

"What's up, bitches?"

My usual greeting flies over the desks and the sounds of struck keys on computer keyboards.

The past two and half weeks have been such a mess, I just want to get back to work.

River stopped by my place a few days ago to talk. We did talk, but not for very long. Remember, back when I said there’s just some shifters that are irresistible? Yeah, River’s one of those shifters. He has this way of getting in and bending me in all the positions I like.

He asked again, if it was possible if we could be something. I wasn’t a total bitch. I told him I’d liked being with him, but I won’t be exclusive if that’s what he’s looking for. He excepted it, though I could tell he was disappointed.

I’m being pulled in two different directions and I don’t know what to think. The only thing I want to do is be as normal as I know how to be.

When I enter the unit, I’m greeting with a standing ovation and a round of back claps.

“Thanks, guys. Really. I’m just doing my job.” I talk over the noise as I walk to Drake’s office.

I turn my head to Drake’s desk and he waves at me. I walk in and shut the door. "Boss man. How's it going?" I strut to his desk and sink into a chair.

He puts papers in a file and sets it aside. He laces his fingers on top of his desk and raises a brow. "You seem better." He tries to hide his analyzing look, but I see it.

I adjust my position in my seat. His look is making me feel a little weirded out. "Yeah. I had a lot of shit to work through, but I'm okay now."

He eyes me carefully. "Anna. I know this Karver take down opened some wounds. We have some great people you can talk to if you need it."

I snort and cross my leg. My attitude comes back in force. "Jesus, Drake. I don't need therapy." I lean on the arm of the chair and rub my forehead.

He sat back and folded his arms. "Not therapy, Anna. Just someone who can talk with you. In private. Just to make sure you're all sorted." He sounded sincere, but the last thing I want is a shrink picking apart my brain.

"I'm fine. Really. Just want to get back to normal." I place my fingers on my temple and sigh. “Can I just get my orders, please?”

His mouth ticks up. "Ok. Well. I won't stop you from working if you think you can handle it. You can take your usual post." He tilts his head to me and points. “But the moment you jeopardize the job because of what happened, you report to the councillor. Understand?”

“Okay! Fine.” I grumble.

He turned to his computer as I got up to leave. "Oh, before you go..." He pulled an envelope out of a drawer and tossed it to me. "This came for you today. It's from the security unit. Anything I should know?"

Confusion fills my eyes as they flick from Drakes to the thin, rectangular envelope on his plotter. I already don’t like what I see.

‘Falcon Ridge Recruitment Unit’

Typed in black ink, it’s the words I never want on a letter to me. This can’t be good.

I meet his eyes as I pick it up. "No. I don't know why they'd send me anything."

It has my name and c/o to the Border Unit on the front. I tear open the side and pull out the single sheet letter.

I unfold the three folded paper and start to read. My heart stops. My skin burns with anger and my mind roars out an earthquake of swearing that would make Drake turn bright red.

I drop the letter and scrub my face. My wolf is clawing like mad and I bite my upper lip as I try to keep my emotions in check.

Drakes face falls. "Anna? What is it?"

I look down at him and toss the letter on the desk. I clench my jaw and point to it. "I've been reassigned."

"What?" His brows furrow as he grabs the letter and reads it. "....by order of Alpha Andrews…For your heroic efforts in the capture of Cole Karver...” He drops the letter and raises his head to me. “Anna...This is great!" He smiles. "I'm mean, I'll miss you around here, but this will be good for you."

I couldn’t hold back. “Are you fucking kidding me?! Drake! I can’t be an Alpha lackey! I can’t!” I fling my arms out to the side then rub my forehead as I start to pace. I turn to him and scowl hard. “Who the fuck so they think they are?!” I yell.

He peruses the letter again. "You don't have a choice, Anna. The Alpha wants you. You can't say no." He meets my glaring eyes again.

"Fucking hell!" I toss out my anger as I walk around.

"According to this, you report to recruitment at 0800 tomorrow morning. So, I guess you can head home. No night shift for you." He confirms the instructions in the manual to end my border career. The end of my life. Me?! Me a military robot?! What the fuck?!!

I snatch the letter. I glare at him again. “This is fucking bullshit!”

Drake smiles. "Hey, it could be worse. You could have my job."

I narrow my eyes. “No thanks.”

He chuckles. “It’ll be fine, Anna. Go get a beer."

I look at the letter again. Hoping the words would change somehow. “Yeah, ok.”

He leans on his desk “Just give it a chance. It might do you some good.”

I glance at him. “Sure.” I mumble. “Later.”

“Bye, Anna.”

I leave Drake’s office and shove the letter in my pocket. I fish for my keys and pull them out.

Damn it. Working with the yes men puppets all day. I’m being punished. I did something and they aren’t telling me. That or the universe hates me and is trying to torture the shit out of me until I give up.

That is not happening. It’ll be a cold day in hell that these political jackasses end me. If that’s what they think, they picked the wrong agent. They aren't gonna like me at all. If I play my cards right, I’ll be kicked out by the end of the week.

****

0800 came early. I partied a bit too hard last night and have a sufficient hangover that my shifter healing is having trouble keeping up with. I lost count at how many I had, I know it was in the thirties somewhere where I lost count.

Now, my head is throbbing, I’m miserable and have an hours drive to the fucking Security Unit.

After a hot shower and packing a duffle, I load my bike and start my road to hell.

I drive the hour out to the Security Unit center. It's an extremely large base of operations. Clean, ridged. Six floors. The top floor is the Head Alpha floor. It’s like the crown floor. Like they’re fucking royalty or some shit. I can guarantee none of them would get their fingernails dirty at Border.

The Falcon Security Unit is a full time base. Meaning the soldiers work, eat and live here around the clock all week. Most get weekends off to spend time with families.

Our active soldiers are 3000 members large. There isn’t an advantage to joining, you join just to serve the Alliance. I guess people treat you better if they hear you served, but I don’t think it’s what everyone makes it out to be.

Caledon has a base just on the other side of the imaginary line from the Security Unit. It’s equally impressive. A little more modern and high tech, but that’s only because Falcon birthed the Alliance and was the original recruitment training center when the six Alphas got together and built it. Caledon came after and now houses 2000 wolves.

The two bases hold recruitment blitzes once a month, but right now, no one is rushing to fight the Dragons. So stealing them from border is their main tactic. They take our good men and leave us the rookies. They don’t realize that’s how people get killed.

I pull my bike into a parking spot in front of the recruitment center and walk up the steps. Wearing my biker gear, jeans and white t shirt, I stuck out like a sore thumb around here. You can almost feel the stick in people’s asses.

As I grab the handle to the front door, some soldiers walk by stop. Their curious eyes watch me start to enter the building. I side eye them with a smirk and check them out before going in. Of course, they’re muscle bound hotties, wearing tight blue t-shirts and blue cargos. I bite my lip and bounce my brow. The one hits his buddies chest and they both flash me their white smiles.

I turn to the door and shake my head. Too easy. Maybe it might not be that bad if I have some entertainment while I’m here.

I throw my duffle over my shoulder, stick a hand in my pocket and stroll into the front lobby. The place looks like the front entrance to a morgue. It's cold, stark white with a black floor. There's a long counter opposite the door with a pathetic, fake mini tree signalling where you’re supposed to stand. I walk up, pull my duffle off my shoulder and drop it on the floor. It lands with a thud and a solider with practically no neck, turns his head to me.

I smile and wave as I eye his thick body. I probably should be more respectful, but fuck it.

He stands and puffs his chest out.

“Damn.” I growl to myself as I look over his impressive physique and pretty much have him naked in my head. I smile again with a slight nod and my eyes bounce around his well defined chest. His eyes narrow. He’s clearly not amused.

He side eyes me as he walks to his computer. "You here to report?" His voice was very stern, kind of barky and monotone.

"Yep." I lean my elbow on the counter and cross my feet. I smirk at him and run my fingers through my high ponytail.

He raises an eyebrow at me and sits down. I think I heard him let out a sigh. "Name?"

I lean on the counter to try and see his screen. "Anna Riker. Two N's."

He turns and glares at me and I back off raising my hands in surrender. Ok. No looking at beefcake’s computer.

He turns back to his monitor and continues to type. "You're five minutes late." He grumbles to his screen

I snicker. "Sorry. Traffic."

He shoots a quick glare at me. "Grab your pack and come with me." He robotically spins his chair and gets to his feet.

He leads me to a door, swipes a key card and opens it. He doesn’t even hold the door for me. Some manners, I snort in my mind.

I follow him down a white hallway. Everything is so clean and polished. Like it would be the end of the world if a tiny smudge was found on the wall or something.

He leads me down another corridor with doors on either side. He stops rigidly, turns to a door and opens it. "Have a seat. Bartley will be with you shortly." He orders.

I look at him arrogantly, and arch a brow. "Bartley? Seriously?" Oh, yes. I didn’t forget to pack my bullshit.

He doesn't acknowledge my comment, just presses me to sit. I sigh and walk in. Plopping my pack on the floor of the tiny office. My knees rest on the back of a small, metal desk. The rows of file cabinets are on a wall with pictures of a smiling mate and pups on top.

My eyes follow the walls covered in certificates and recruitment posters. You know. ‘Falcon Ridge needs you’ kind of stuff.

I picked at a few things at the edge of the desk in front of me as the door opens and closes behind me. I spin in my chair and my eyes lay on a yummy piece of military meet. I hate these guys, but I must admit. The fish are better looking in this pond. His hair is blonde with an army issue haircut. He has piercing blue eyes and muscles for days. He gives me a once over, clears his throat and walks to his desk.

He sits down in a small, brown office chair without saying a word. I get the feeling this really isn’t a higher up guy. He types on his computer and I pick at my nails. It seems to go on forever. I twist my fingers together as I make another round around the room. This waiting is killing me. I sit back and cross my leather covered legs.

He eyes me and drops the file in his desk. "Agent Riker." He finally says.

"Yep." I say, popping the ‘p' and leaning back in the chair.

"It's nice to finally meet you. There's been a lot of talk about you these last few weeks." His voice is deep and I think a tiny bit comforting, if that’s what he was trying to go for.

I lean forward. "All good I hope." The corner of my mouth raises as I chuckle.

He nods, but doesn’t return my joke. Clearly, we aren't into small talk.

He clears his throat. "Great work on the Karver arrest. He's provided a lot of great Intel to us this far.” He flips through the file.

I raise my brow. "Wait. You guys have him?"

"Of course." He says as he reads.

I lean on my knees. "Ok. What did he say?"

He raises his head. "I'm sorry. I'm not at liberty to discuss details of an ongoing investigation." He picks up his pen and starts to write in the file.

I sit up and cinch my brows. "He's my suspect?" I point to my chest.

His lifts his eyes gives me over once more. "He was your suspect. Now, he's our prisoner. You did a great job in his capture, but he belongs to us now."

I flop back into my seat with a scowl on my face. "That's bullshit." I say under my breath.

He raises his brow. "What was that?" He folds his hands on his desk as he leans on it. The look he’s giving me almost dares me to say it again.

"Nothing." I grumble.

He picks up the file, walks around his desk and leans his but on the edge of it. His legs are about six inches off mine. He shoots me a smirk and opens it.

He lifts a paper. "One week suspension for insubordination.” He lifts another one and ticks his head. “Two-week suspension for ignoring a direct order.”

He lifts another paper. He smiles and his eyes meet mine. “This ones my favorite I think.” He glances at me then down at the paper. “One month paid leave for excessive force...." He drops the file on his desk and crosses his muscular arms. "There's more. A lot more."

I bounce my boot and inspect my nails as I listen to my workplace rap sheet. I did what I did. I nailed my target and that’s all that matters.

He continues. "Now, I don't know why the Alpha would even think someone like you would be good enough for the Security unit, but he does.”

“This...Whatever this is..." He trails his finger in the air up and down me. "Isn't gonna fly here. We don't deal in suspensions or paid leave. We deal with actual punishments. So, unless you check this bad girl attitude of yours, I see a lot of punishment headed your way."

I get a cocky look on my face. "You gonna make a good girl out of me, soldier?"

He nods and then a menacing smile crossed his lips. “You’re going to have fun here. Come with me.”

I eye him. His smile made me sweat a bit. I walk with him out the door. What the hell am I walking in to?

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