Marco perceives a very sweet scent, something so intoxicating it sends heat straight to his loins. His skin prickles, his muscles tense, and his pulse hammers like a war drum.

Melissa is curled up beside him, her breath warm against his chest, but this—this fire coursing through his veins—isn’t from her. No, this scent, this unbearable pull, is from someone else.

"Nana..." he mutters, his eyes snapping open.

"What the fuck?" He hasn’t felt this connection in a long time. It’s ...