He staggered, mumbled something unintelligible, then fumbled with the keycard for the room next door. The sharp tang of alcohol rolled off him in waves.
He laughed at nothing, leaned his forehead against the doorframe, and after a few tries managed to let himself in. The door shut.
I stood there, breathing hard, adrenaline crashing into embarrassment so fast it made my ears burn.
“Idiot,” I muttered to myself.
My pulse took its time slowing, my wolf grumbling restlessly under my skin. He wasn’t fooled. He hadn’t surged like that for nothing.
I shut the door and turned back into the room, no longer able to sit still. The air felt wrong in here now.
“Okay,” I said under my breath. “Okay.”
I moved fast, pulling on jeans and a hoodie, shoving my phone into my pocket. Pampi watched me from the floor, ears pricked, body alert. She sensed it too. Dogs always did.
“Come on, girl,” I said, clipping her leash on. “We’re going for a walk.”
She wagged once, sharp and eager, already vibrating with energy.
The moment we stepped into the hallway, the feeling sharpened. My wolf pressed hard against my ribs, urgency humming through every nerve.
Hurry. Hurry.
“I know,” I whispered, jaw tight.
We moved quickly through the hotel, past early risers and bleary-eyed guests clutching coffee cups. I kept my head down, senses flaring. Every sound felt too loud. Every scent too strong.
I was this close to shifting. The urge crested hard and fast, fur prickling beneath my skin, bones aching with the need to stretch, to run, to hunt.
No. Not here.I clenched my fists, breathing through it, forcing control the way Cooper had drilled into me over and over.You don’t let instinct drive. You guide it.
Outside, the morning air hit my face, cool and damp. I sucked it in, grounding myself just enough to keep my human shape intact. I pulled out my phone with shaking fingers and brought up the map Jaime had sent earlier.
The dog relief area wasn’t far. A little tent tucked away at the edge of the parking lot, out of sight from the main entrance. It was unsettlingly quiet.
We jogged the rest of the way, my stride eating up the distance. Pampi trotted beside me, leash loose, focused. As soon as we crossed the threshold into the tented area, everything went wrong.
Pampi froze. Then she barked frantically, the sound slicing straight through my chest. Finally, I smelled it. Fresh blood, metallic and wrong, cutting through the familiar warmth of Jaime’s scent like a blade.
“No,” I breathed.
My worst fear detonated inside me. A growl tore up my throat, raw and vicious, my wolf slamming against my skin hard enough to make my vision blur. The urge to tear, to destroy, flooded me so fast it stole my breath.
Pampi whimpered, ducking closer to my legs, her ears flattening. That snapped me back.
“Hey,” I said hoarsely, crouching. “Hey. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
I forced myself to breathe. In. Out. Again.
Control. My wolf fought me, furious and terrified, but I held him back, wrapping him tight in restraint until the red haze receded enough for me to think. I stood slowly and took in the scene.
The tent was empty. The water refill station sat at the far end.
I stepped closer, nostrils flaring. There. A faint, unpleasant chemical tang threaded through the air. Not enough to scream danger to a human. Enough to make my wolf snarl.
I leaned closer to the jug and sniffed again. It was subtle, but I was pretty sure it smelled like bitter almonds. My gaze dropped. There was a spill near the back leg of the table. Same smell. Same wrongness.
My stomach twisted. I bent down, sniffing it again. This wasn’t accidental, and this was no careless mistake. This was deliberate.
