Flashback — Last Night
The house holds its breath.
Golden light drips from the polished ceiling onto the polished marble below, pooling quietly in the corners. The air is thick—heavy with something that wasn't there before. Something that seeped through the walls, through the thin line beneath the doors, through the very bones of the house itself.
Moonflower.
The scent of Ellis's pheromones spreads through every corridor, every room, every hidden space where light doesn't reach. It clings to the fabric of the couches, settles deep into the carpet, lingers heavily in the air itself.
Sweet and sharp and wild—the scent of an Alpha in rut, untamed, desperate, burning.
Impossible to ignore.
Silas sits on the couch.
