Raymond’s POV
As I made my way toward Macroeconomics, a scent hit me so hard I almost stumbled.
Pineapple…? No—pomegranate. Sweet. Tart.
Then something creamy… like vanilla milkshake blended with heat.
What the hell?
It was intoxicating.
My wolf, Alex, perked up fast.
“That smells like... mate.”
Mate? Nah. Couldn’t be. Not here. Not now.
Still, I followed the scent like a bloodhound in heat, trailing it into the econ lecture hall. The moment I stepped in, the scent sharpened—then completely vanished.
Weird.
Only one person was inside.
Tall. Broad. Dressed like he walked off the cover of Alpha Weekly.
Sharp black slacks. Navy shirt rolled at the sleeves.
Beard lined perfectly. Curls trimmed and neat.
That face? Yeah, he was the type who probably got offered panties with his c
