I pushed open the VIP room door, and the wave of alpha pheromones hit me like a physical blow. My wolf whimpered instantly, recognizing the dominating presence that had once been meant for us. For a moment, I couldn't move, frozen in the doorway with the heavy tray balanced precariously in my hands.
The room oozed wealth and exclusivity—leather couches arranged around low tables, ambient lighting casting everyone in a soft glow. Five men occupied the space, all dressed in expensive suits, all radiating power.
But only one commanded my attention.
Rhys Knight sat on the central couch, legs spread wide in that arrogant way men use to claim space. His dark hair was styled back now, longer than I remembered, and his jawline seemed sharper, more defined. The eyebrow piercing I'd once found so rebellious and attractive still glinted in the low light.
Four years had only enhanced his devastating good looks, adding a hardened edge that screamed danger even louder than before.
