The moment the scent hit her, Gaia knew who had arrived. Aurora.
It was sharp, clean, and dangerous like the metallic tang of a blade before it slices flesh.
Gaia didn’t panic.
Instead, she slid down under the covers, positioning herself like some fragile, grieving widow who’d just been clinging to the scent of her dead Alpha. Her breathing slowed. Her food stained hands stayed still. She let her wolf curl low inside her, masking the thrill of recognition.
The door swung open without a knock. Aurora entered like she owned the damn place, her eyes scanning every shadow, nose twitching in quick inhales, taking in every scent in the room. It was predatory, calculated, as if she was following the trail of a kill.
Her gaze locked onto the bed.
She stepped forward, slow but certain, stoppi
