The Suppressed Lycan Queen
The scent of the damp earth under the grass is almost overwhelmingly sharp, completely washing out the cheap cologne Jason usually wears.
We finally enter the science building, the empty, echoing halls smelling strongly of industrial floor wax and the faint, lingering bite of sulfur. Jason leads me to our shared bench at the very back of the main lab. A restart of our last experiment is already bubbling away in a round-bottom flask, the heating mantle glowing a low, dangerous orange. I pull over the heavy lab notebook, my new, razor-sharp vision scanning his frantic handwriting with immediate ease.
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