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
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