Felicity’s POV

It was the scent that betrayed me.

I’d thought I’d been careful—bathing, scrubbing until my skin was raw, burning herbs to mask it. But Marcus lingered on me, the way Verity lingered on Theron. The cruel irony of it wasn’t lost on me.

That night, as I walked the long hall toward my chambers, Theron’s voice suddenly cut through the silence.

“Stop.”

I froze. His tall frame leaned casually against the wall ahead, arms folded, the light was dim casting shadows ...