A sleek luxury car glided to a stop at the curb, its engine so smooth it barely purred. Audrey noticed it immediately—her senses sharper than most, sharpened even more by the absence of her wolf. Every sound, every scent, felt magnified, a constant alertness that made her lungs tighten and her muscles ready. The door opened with a soft click, and Dorian stepped out.
Moon above.
The man looked as if he had been sculpted for magazines: broad shoulders wrapped in a tailored suit, long legs carrying him with the ease of someone who always knew exactly where he belonged in the world. His confidence radiated like sunlight, steady and blinding.
Even from the balcony, his scent reached her: clean steel, faint cedar, the subtle burn of a man who worked too hard and trusted very few.
