Alora didn't want to cry but the burden of other's lives is too much for her to bear. When she composed, her face flushed in embarrassment realizing her face was buried into Hellmaster's stomach. She took a breath to ask him to let her go.
But the next moment her brows quivered when her nostrils filled with the rich, pleasant smell of damp woods with a hit of warm, addictive spiciness.
She was certain this was the scent of the man who was bringing her to the flower dune when she was unconscious for days.
Wasn't that supposed to be Agost Wilburn?
Is it possible for two men to have the same cologne?
Confusion slashed in her ruby eyes as frowns drew on her face. She tried to recall the men she was around from her childhood days. Zander, Lothar, Duke Linwood, her cousin… She doesn't recall anybody having a similar scent.
Her friends? No.
Then she brushed over her memories to recollect if she ever learned the scent of Agost.
