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Her
Ivailo held the sides of the counter tightly in his hands. He pressed his palm against the surface as hard as he could to steady himself. The air in the kitchen swirled with a scent that he couldn't stand. It prickled his nerves and made every cell in his body quiver. His mind wasn't calm, hasn't been calm from the moment she showed up at his door with this look on her face that couldn't be described with anything better but fear, masked but unfiltered fear. He could smell it on her, taste it on his tongue like it was nicotine within minutes.
His wolf had tracked in his head for a second, sniffing as if he breathed in delectable prey before reality slapped him in the face.
It had gripped him harder than he would like to admit. Ivailo had forgotten about the deal that darn crazy she-wolf made with the human government, about integration, as if that made any goddamn sense. He was too busy chasing diapers
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