ROWAN
Ryker was here.
That son of a bitch was here.
The scent of fur lingered in the air, it was his distinct smell and it made my wolf snarl and push against my ribs demanding I do something violent. I could smell my brother everywhere in this room, could trace where he had been, what he had touched, what he had done.
Amaris looked guilty.
She was not even trying to hide it, just standing there wrapped in that robe with her hair a mess and her eyes red from crying and guilt written all over her face.
I moved closer before I could stop myself and she tensed but did not back away. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward me, lowering my face to her neck.
She tried to step back. "Rowan—"
I yanked her hand to steady her and buried my nose against her skin, inhaling deeply.
