Thorn

I was concluding a discussion with one of our pack Elders in the main corridor, th

om the far end of the hall, and trailing a few

faint, a ghost of its true self. It was like a man wearing another's cologne, a

with a dissatisfied huf

nclining his head in a sho

own, her entire posture designed to make

fragrance. It was a living, breathing tidal wave of pure chamomile, so potent it seemed to have a texture, a warmth that wrapped around my

d went

xplanation I had constructed, s

out a roar that deafened my thoughts. It was not a question. It was no

SCENT, I

of a lightning bolt. Shock, disbelief,

ant assumptions. The scent that had called to my soul, the one I believed belonged to a

here, preening in his stolen glory, wearing the faintest trace of he

ing. Disgust for him, and for my own blindness. The pride of

eyes meeting mine for a fraction of a second. The storm she saw there, the raw, untamed power I

stood before me. The border dispute was a distant, meaningless mem

voice dropping to a low, glaci

ing the shift in the

im. I spoke each word with deliberate, chilling precision. "Control yo

et alone speak of her with such... intensity? Ryker's expression hardened, a flicker of fear flashing in his eyes before being r

the guard beside me, my voice sharp

m standing in the corridor, shrouded in my