MIRABEL POV.
For the first time in a long while, I had a class without the triplets breathing down my neck. No protective hovering, no intense gazes, no ridiculous attempts at “helping” me with things I was perfectly capable of doing myself.
You would think I would be relieved. A moment to think. To just exist without their overwhelming presence.
Yeah, no.
Because while their absence gave me space, it also left me exposed.
Every wolf in the room could smell Noah’s scent on me.
See, werewolves didn’t just rely on sight. Scent was just as—if not more—important. When mates bonded, their scents intertwined, an unspoken but unmistakable claim. If we’d fully completed the bond, if he had marked me, my own scent would have been drowned out entirely by his. But since we hadn’t taken that fi
