CONNOR POV
I stood there, rooted to the spot, torn between the next step and the one after it.
One option was to follow Grace inside the building, stay close enough to catch her if she stumbled, block some arrogant bastard with a PhD from leaning in too close.
The other option was to follow the guy. Nathan, she’d called him.
He smelled wrong.
Not bad—just wrong. There was the stench of overpriced cologne, thick enough to choke two bears, but underneath it, nothing. No sweat, no warmth, no human trace. Every living thing tells a story on the skin. Humans, hybrids, fae, even the old things by the loch—there’s always a scent. This one was blank.
I didn’t like that. Not even a little.
Especially not after watching him lean toward my mate with that smug grin, as if he had the right to ow
