But then something strange happened.
As I sat there, staring at the golden-rimmed plates, my stomach turned. A strange scent filled the air, faint but intoxicating. My heartbeat picked up, and my palms grew clammy.
I inhaled again, sharper this time.
That scent. My wolf suddenly lifted her head, ears alert.
She began to pace inside me, growling low with confusion and… anticipation?
The scent was pulling at her. At me. Like a magnet. Like fire to dry wood. It wrapped around my senses and squeezed.
I couldn’t breathe.
“I need some air,” I said quickly, rising to my feet. The room was suddenly too loud, too bright, too suffocating.
I didn’t wait for Ethan’s permission. I slipped through the side door of the hall, heart racing.
Because that scent didn’t belong to Ethan.
And whoever it did belong to… my wolf recognized him.
And that terrified me.
Ivy’s POV
The nausea hit me like a crashing wave, sudden and forceful. It wasn’t the kind that came from eating too little or standing too long—it was deeper, sharper, as if something inside me was being twisted by unseen claws. I clutched my head and leaned against the hallway wall just outside the gathering room, trying to breathe through it.