Lucas' scent hits me after I've already tried to murder him.
An unmistakable blend of the outdoors, of amber and campfire smoke, of something so uniquely mate that it draws me in even through the pain of our past.
It's him. He's here.
The knife clatters from my trembling hand as every muscle in my body goes lax with relief. I'd been so tense, coiled tight like a spring ready to snap, terrified of losing my life tonight. But now Lucas is here.
He came for me.
"Lucas," I breathe out, hope and prayer all in one, the sound barely more than a whisper. My entire body crumples, overworked in its stress.
He's really here. I'm not dreaming. He's not a hallucination. This is real. Real.
My mate.
My savior.
