Titus’s POV
The noise hit us like a physical blow the moment the door opened, a wall of thumping, artificial rhythm that vibrated in our teeth and rattled the bones of the skull.
The air inside was a soup of offensive odors…rancid grease, fermented grain, human sweat, and the cloying, chemical stench of fear. But underneath it all, cutting through the filth like a blade, was the scent. Vanilla. Moonflowers. Ozone. And something else. Something wrong.
Male.
I snarled, and it wasn’t a choice. It was a reflex as natural as breathing. The sound tore out of the Man’s throat, a low, vibrating rumble that made the glass in the windows shudder in their frames.
He touches, I roared in the darkness of the mind, throwing myself against the bars of the cage. He touches our female.
The Man did
