GREGOR POV

The dawn had only just started to breathe light across the skyline when I slipped from Marigold’s suite. Her scent still clung to me—lavender, smoke, and the faintest note of blood that only I could taste when I kissed her raw lips.

I had promised her I’d be back before breakfast. I meant it.

But my wolf, restless and snarling beneath my skin, already sensed the crack in the air.

The city was too still.

The hum of the car’s engine did little to distract me. One of ...