My brain went white with a soft, internal pop.
Pheromones.
It had to be from last night, when Damian and Damon had been close to ripping each other open and I had been wedged between them like the world's worst peacekeeper. Of course their scent had bled into mine.
But what truly stunned me was not the contamination itself. It was the word.
Pheromones. That word belonged to a version of my life that felt almost mythological now. Back when Ronald and I were still dating, before the rings and the vows, before my wolf had gone silent inside my chest, I used to feel his scent layered over my skin like a second sweater. Mine on him. His on me. The cleanest, most intimate kind of paperwork two wolves could file on each other.
Ronald had never changed the way he treated me, so I had not noti
