Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

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 the hell

not bothering to explain or see

trying to think up a way to

was reconnaissance," he mutters behind me. "Getting

expected. But he overestimates my interest. This isn’t new information about the man, after

"Mmm."

that strange energy signature. It’s too

systematically, but the house is empty of personal effects, outside of what the wolves

pulses stronger. The room reeks of Aaron and a wolf—female, young, fertile. The bed is still

"There was nothing serious between

him, genuinely surprised by the comment. "Why

does something complicated—relief mixing with what might be disappointment. He really thought I cared

him too much hope, so I don’t. We can always settle it later, if it comes down to it.

Priorities matter.

room, extending my senses beyond the physical as I

sense it before? Another

the room, his silver eyes tight and

lips twist

gaze sweeping the room without focusing on anything physical. I recognize the look—he’s seeing what I see, the perfectly knitted

body radiating heat. It’s annoying how he does that—inserts himself into my space like he belongs there. But I don’t shove

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

here has been manipulated, but there’s no way to tell how long it’s been this way,

Unlikely, though. Especially

you talking about?" Aaron interrupts, his breath tickling my

some reason, his scent is getting on my nerves, especially mixed as it is with the history of this

shower," I tell