Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 183

Chapter 183: Lyre: Do You Sense It?

LYRE

The moment we hit the Fiddleback subdivision, the arcana changes. It’s darker, but strangely clean despite the undercurrent of blood magic seeping the land.

I notice the house before Jack-Eye points it out, because it glows like a beacon of bright arcana.

"That’s where they had us stay," he says, as expected.

On the outside, it looks no different from the others. I’m sure the wolves wouldn’t be able to sense how unique this particular domicile is. Perhaps even Fiddleback didn’t know.

The moment we enter, the smell hits. It’s not a physical scent—nothing the wolves would notice. But it’s like a lingering odor clinging to the threads of arcana, mixed with sweat, wolf musk, and the unmistakable residue of werewolf sex.

One scent stands out with embarrassing clarity.

I glance at Aaron from the corner of my eye. "You worked hard."

The flush crawls up his neck like wildfire, starting below his collar and racing across his cheeks. He scratches at his head, fingers tangling in his red hair.

"I was—" he starts.

I wave a dismissive hand, already uninterested in his explanation before it begins. Something else has caught my attention.

"Owen," I say, cutting Aaron off mid-stammer. "Do you sense it?"

The angel-descendant’s silver eyes narrow, his jaw tightening as he gives a single, grim nod. "Yes."

"Sense what?" Aaron looks between us as the blush slowly recedes. "What are you talking about?"

Owen just smacks him on the shoulder and moves deeper into the house, methodically checking rooms.

rolls his shoulder with a scowl. "What

not bothering to explain or see if

trying to think up a way to explain

was reconnaissance," he mutters behind me. "Getting close to potential informants is

my interest. This isn’t new information about the man,

"Mmm."

the source of that strange energy signature. It’s too orderly, too perfect—like someone took the chaotic weave

is empty of personal effects, outside

of

awkwardly. "There was nothing

genuinely surprised by

what might be disappointment. He really thought I cared about his little

can always settle it later, if it comes down to it.

Priorities matter.

beyond the physical as I inspect the threads of arcana,

sense it before? Another in his territory should have set off every alarm

his silver eyes tight and dark. "They weren’t here

lips twist

I recognize the look—he’s seeing what I see, the perfectly knitted strands

body radiating heat. It’s annoying how he does that—inserts himself into

this place many times," Owen says calmly, though his words are rougher than normal. Betrayal does that, though. His fists are tight, his back too straight, as he

this way, or how many people have touched it. And as a

Unlikely, though.

tickling my ear. as he gets

some reason, his scent is getting on

shower," I

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