The dog fought every inch.
He lunged.
He twisted.
He dropped his weight and then surged forward so hard Wyatt nearly lost his footing.
His claws scraped the concrete like knives.
People in the front row stepped back.
A woman lifted her purse onto her lap.
A man in a security company jacket muttered something under his breath and shook his head before the auctioneer even spoke.
The auctioneer, Nathan Reed, lifted his microphone and looked down at the printed sheet on his clipboard.
“Lot 44,” he said. “Designation K9 Odin. Former Tier One tactical asset. Discharged due to severe behavioral degradation following an operation six months ago. Classified as unpredictable, aggressive, and unsuitable for standard placement.”
The word unsuitable moved through the room quietly.
Connor heard it anyway.
Odin’s amber eyes swept the warehouse.
They were wild.
They were terrified.
They were furious.
The dog was not scanning for kindness.
