Page 3 of The Hyena’s Guardian

“Very.”

This time Reynolds actually smiled as Melvin stepped away from the reception and made his way toward them through the lantern-lit meadow with smooth, unhurried movements that still carried the unmistakable grace of a predator.

Even in a suit, Melvin moved with the unhurried grace of a predator, patient and observant in the way dangerous people often were when they no longer needed to prove anything. By the time he stopped beside Reynolds and Marcus, he had already taken in the mood between them.

“You two look suspicious,” Melvin said.

Marcus lifted his glass. “We were bonding.”

Reynolds snorted. “That’s one word for it.”

Melvin looked at him, and the humor eased into something steadier. “You alright?”

Reynolds almost fell back on the automatic answer that military life had burned into him over the years: fine, good, ready. Instead, he glanced toward Mac again and found him talking with Barnes near the reception, though Reynolds could still feel the edge of his attention reaching this way like a steady hand against the middle of his back.

“Yeah,” Reynolds said. “Just thinking.”

“That is usually where trouble starts,” Melvin said.

“Everybody’s a comedian tonight.”

Melvin smiled faintly. “You leave soon.”

“Three weeks.”

“Training first?”

“Guess I’m learning on the job,” Matt said dryly. “Virginia for processing. Then overseas. They still haven’t said where.”

Marcus made a soft sound beneath his breath. “They know. They just haven’t told you yet.”

“Comforting.”

Melvin’s gaze sharpened, not with fear but recognition. He knew that world. Maybe not all of it, but enough. The contractor work he did now brushed close to the places Valker moved through. Languages. Negotiations. Problems no one wanted attached to official paperwork.

“You remember what I told you?” Melvin asked.

Reynolds nodded. “Make sure it’s mine. Not yours.”

“Still true.”

Reynolds held his gaze. “It is.”

Melvin held his gaze for a long enough moment that Reynolds knew he was weighing the answer instead of simply accepting it, then finally nodded once in quiet approval. Mac joined them a moment later, crossing the meadow with that steady, effortless authority that made people either notice or obey him before they consciously realized why.

“Everything good?” Mac asked.

“Depends,” Reynolds said. “Is this where you give me a speech?”

Mac’s mouth twitched. “Hadn’t planned on it.”

“That’s a relief.”

“I can if you want.”

“I absolutely do not.”

Melvin’s smile deepened.