Aria couldn’t breathe.
The night pressed in around her as Lucas’s words echoed through her bones.
A scent mask.
A killer wearing an unknown scent.
Her father died due to Lucas’s father's trap.
The truth was a blade she had never expected — sharp, painful, cleansing.
Adrian knelt in front of her, cupping her face. “Aria. Look at me.”
She did.
His voice softened. “We’re going to find the real killer.”
Dominic’s hand slid gently up her spine. “And when we do, they’ll regret breathing.”
But her wolf was spiraling.
She stood abruptly, stepping forward until she stood only a few feet from Lucas — still safely behind the boundary line Adrian set.
Her voice was a whisper. “Why… why didn’t you tell me?”
Lucas laughed — bitter, broken. “How? You disappeared. You masked your scent. You
