Crystal clear. Time-marked to the moment.
Starting three days ago, a male had been entering and leaving my den. Frequently.
The final vision was recorded one hour before I'd arrived:
The main entrance shimmered open. He stepped through with his arm wrapped around Selene's waist. They stopped just outside our private chambers—and kissed. Long, slow, desperate. The kind of kiss that made it impossible to tell where one wolf ended and the other began.
Selene's hand slipped beneath his tunic. I'd never witnessed her like that. So eager. So hungry.
I recognized him immediately.
Kael Ashford. Selene's new Omega Liaison.
I'd reviewed his credentials myself. Twenty-five years old, returned from training with a distant pack.
Six-foot-one, with the kind of face that made she-wolves forget their bonds.
The vision froze on the frame where he dipped his head to nuzzle the curve of her throat—right where my mate-mark should have been sacred.
I closed the scrying crystal and leaned back in my carved oak chair.
That's when the knock came. Two raps against the heavy door. Not too soft, not too loud.
"Enter."
The door swung open.
And there he stood.