Camellia's POV
The smell of disinfectant and pheromone neutralizers clashed in the ventilation ducts. I stared at the temporary mark on my neck in the mirror.
The bite mark from the fangs had healed, leaving only a faint crescent-shaped scar.
When my fingertips brushed the edge of the crescent, a pained whimper rose from deep within my spine—Lyra, my wolf, was growing weaker as the mate bond fractured.
Lyra thrashed her tail restlessly deep within me, her claws scratching at my ribs through the flesh.
A werewolf's superhuman healing should have made such a minor injury vanish instantly, but the crumbling mate bond was causing my body to function more like a human's.
I picked up an ice pack and pressed it to my cheek.
After about ten minutes, the burning pain subsided. I returned to
