Eros / Mr. Rossi – Late Wednesday Evening
The scent of Harmony still lingered in the air long after she left his office. Eros—still seated behind his desk, muscles tight and jaw clenched—tried to calm the storm inside of him.
His dragon stirred again.
“We need to hunt.”
“No.”
“She smelled like heaven. We need to scent her again. Mark her.”
“You need to relax,” Eros muttered aloud, rubbing his temple. “You’ll blow our cover if you lose control.”
The dragon snarled but obeyed.
Exhaling sharply, Eros snapped his fingers. His shirt buttoned itself, his desk locked with a click, and his iPad floated neatly into his leather satchel. He stood, smoothing out his sleeves with one last collected breath, then opened the office door.
Right on cue, Samantha Markson was sauntering down the hall
