DAIN’S POV
The smell was faint at first, buried beneath dirt, blood, sweat, and sickness, but the closer I moved toward it, the more distinct it became. My pace slowed automatically while every instinct sharpened.
Then the scent hit me completely and everything inside me went still.
My wolf stopped moving so suddenly that loose dirt scattered beneath his paws.
Mate.
The word slammed through my mind with enough force to leave me momentarily disoriented.
Mate.
My wolf repeated it again, this time with absolute certainty. For several seconds, we didn’t move.
I had imagined many things over the years whenever conversations turned toward second chance mates. Some wolves believed in them completely, while others considered them just myth, meant for people hoping for a second chance. P
