DOM
The night still lingered in my skin—smoke, spice, and her. Lena.
The warmth of the bonfire had faded into memory, but I could still feel the imprint of her body against mine, the way she leaned into me without hesitation. Like her soul trusted me even when her mind still questioned everything.
She'd laughed tonight. Really laughed. And every time, it undid me.
Now, in the low glow of our room, I watched her from across the space. She was brushing her hair out by the mirror, her movements slow and drowsy. Her skin glowed with the faintest flush, and I could smell her.
Not just her shampoo or the remnants of vanilla cupcake on her fingers.
Her.
There was something different in the air—something sharper, more potent. Her scent had always drawn me in, but tonight it was like a hook lodged in my ribs, tugging. Demanding. My wolf paced just under my skin, ears alert, breath shallow, instinct coiled tight like a spring.
