POV: JASMINE
Whoever it was—wherever he was—his scent was burning through the crowd like wildfire. It was sharp and rich, like cedar and smoke—drenched earth after rain. Powerful. Dark. Thick. It was sex and danger and dominance—everything a wolf could crave in one breath—stealing pull.
But not like Cory's subtle warmth. Cory smelled like cinnamon and safety.
This scent?
This scent could bring empires to their knees.
This scent demanded submission. And my wolf—traitorous bitch that she was—immediately rolled over inside me like she'd found home. My chest ached. My eyes burned. My legs locked.
An Alpha. Or a Beta, maybe. But definitely not Cory.
And that meant—
My throat went dry.
