Sienna, as the other two women had addressed her, had fiery red hair that burned like a thousand suns. It raced down to her lower back, and she seemed to wear a permanent sneer on her face as she turned around and scanned me from head to toe.
Whatever she saw, she evidently didn't like, for her scowl only worsened.
"Who let her out?" she asked, her tone snappy.
"We don't know," Georgia said, coming forward. "Isabella and I were just manning the roast when she suddenly came over."
"Alpha Lucien isn't back yet," the other woman, Isabella, said. "Maybe it was Zeke?"
Sienna scoffed. Her hands rested on her hips as she stared at me. Finally, she said, "Get Josiah to bring the silver cuffs. We can't have prisoners running about the camp just like that."
"Wait just a minute," I said, stepping slightly away from the three women. "I am not a prisoner of war."
