~Annalyn POV~
The morgue in town smelled like bleach and bad news, and I was already regretting letting Calix drag me here. Carlo's body was laid out under a sheet, and the claw marks Matteo mentioned had my stomach in knots. We stood by the slab, the dim light making everything feel creepier than it needed to be.
"You sure about this?" I asked Calix, hugging my jacket tighter. "I'm not exactly CSI material."
He smirked, his eyes glinting. "Relax, princess. Just need your nose. Tell me if you smell anything weird."
I rolled my eyes but leaned closer, sniffing. Under the antiseptic stink, there was something—sharp, musky, definitely werewolf. Not Visaya, though. It was... familiar. "It's one of ours," I said, stepping back. "Pack scent, but I can't pin it."
Calix's jaw tightened. "Great. So we've got a traitor clawing up ex-employees. Perfect."
The coroner, a nervous guy with glasses, shuffled over. "You done? I need to wrap this up. Official report's suicide."
