CIARA
The master suite was too quiet. Hayes had gone down to the lower armory over an hour ago to check the iron supply for the winter gate, leaving me alone on the bed. Carrying twin Alphas made my wolf hyper-aware of every sound in the keep.
I sat up on the edge of the mattress, rubbing my lower back. I reached for my water glass, took a small sip, and froze.
A sudden draft blew beneath the heavy oak door.
My wolf sat up instantly inside my mind. Her nostrils flared.
A foul chemical smell hit the back of my throat. It smelled like dry dirt mixed with crushed lavender and bitter alkaline powder—synthetic scent-masking herb. Lower-tier scouts used it to hide their natural wolf odor.
Someone was standing in the corridor right outside our door, trying to hide their smell.
I stood up,
