“Who are you? And why are you inside my house?”
The sharp, steady voice cut through the cabin like a blade.
Damon stiffened.
He had been so focused on the scent lingering in the air—the intoxicating, powerful scent of the female wolf his rogues had described—that he had failed to notice someone entering.
That had never happened before.
He was always aware.
Always alert.
And with Cerberus inside him, his instincts were sharper than most.
Yet somehow… she had walked in without him sensing her approach.
“I asked you again,” the woman said, her tone colder now, “who are you? And why are you inside my house?”
Her house?
Damon slowly turned around.
And the world shifted.
She stood a few feet away, framed by the soft light filtering through the cabin window. Silver hair falling loose
