Scent of Desire, Reek of Rogues

I ran through the forest, my paws barely touching the ground. My wolf was in complete control, driven by a primal instinct that overpowered every rational thought.

Seraphina was in danger.

I'd felt it the moment her emotions spiked through our mated bond—fear, then pain, then something else that made my wolf howl with fury. The connection should have been broken when I rejected her publicly, but it wasn't. Not completely. Not for my wolf.

My nose led me through unfamiliar territory, following the faintest trace of her scent. I'd been running for hours, crossing pack boundaries without permission or care. Nothing mattered except finding her.

The scent grew stronger as dawn approached, leading me to a dilapidated cabin tucked deep in the woods. The structure looked abandoned—peeling paint, broken windows, rotting wood. But underneath those smells was something unmistakable.

Seraphina.

And rogues. Many of them.