Chapter 61

I pressed my palm flat against the door the moment Carlos disappeared. His command echoed in my head, firm and heavy. Do not move an inch from here. Got it?

But the silence on the other side wasn’t silence at all. It was muffled growls, the scrape of boots, the rumble of voices deep with power. My stomach twisted, my fingers curling against the wood until my nails bit into it.

I wanted to move, to run, to do something. Yet my legs trembled, too weak to hold me, and fear pinned me more effectively than any lock.

Then I felt it.

Not sound. Not touch. But scent.

Sharp. Familiar. Soaked in cruelty. My lungs seized before my mind could name it, but my body knew. My wolf knew. The scent of Lars slid through the cracks of the room like smoke.

I staggered back, clutching my chest. The walls felt too close. The air too thin. My mate—the man who threw me from the cliff—was here. Alive, dominant, and close enough to smell me.

A low voice carried into the hall, smooth as poison. Lars.

“I can smel