It was the smell that hit me first and it was enough to make me shrink back against the wall with my hand clutched over my nose, fighting the urge to gag as bile swamped my throat in thick acrid waves. It was animal. The pure, heavy scent of many beasts, like the thick cloying stench of sweat and urine and something else, something that made my nose wrinkle in repulsion and I knew it was her I could smell. And not just her, but the foul taste of her arousal in the air and it was so strong that for a moment, I thought she must be here somewhere, maybe curled up in my bed, her hair draped over my pillow and sheets bunched up between her thighs. But it was not her; just her smell and it seemed to shroud this place, covering every surface as if she had writhed everywhere and not just with Bran
