Leo
In all twenty five years of my life, that was the first time I had ever heard the words. ''Janis Enigma.''
It was an entirely strange term to me, but that was not the only thing that made my mind freeze. It was what Miller had just said about my scent.
An Enigma's scent is supposed to be permanent, a dominant signature of our biology that never shifts.
My own scent had always been heavy black charcoal—strong, dark, and reeks of dominace.
For it to change was not just unusual; it was biologically impossible for any normal Enigma.
"How can that be?" I demanded, shifting uncomfortably on my seat.
My hands tightened around my warm teacup, the ceramic smooth against my palms. "There is no way I am... uhm..."
I paused for a moment, taking a deep breath and trying my best to understand the situation.
My analytical mind, which usually sorted data within seconds, was struggling to process this.
Just what the hell was happening? I wondered.
