"I am," Arion said.
The lie was so beautiful Dean almost believed it.
Then the leash snapped.
The controlled, disciplined hunger in Arion's scent vanished, replaced by a raw, possessive wave that smashed into Dean so hard that his knees buckled. The air in the room became heavy, thick with the unmistakable claim of a dominant who was done pretending. It was no longer just vetiver; it was the entire forest, dark, wild, and completely his.
Arion's control discarded.
"You," Arion said, his voice a low, rough growl that vibrated through Dean's bones, "are the most brutally honest creature I have ever met."
