**Grayson's POV**

The memory won't leave me alone.

Lynn's scent hit me first—even through the warehouse stench, even dulled by wolfsbane, I knew her. That wild honeysuckle and rain smell that's haunted me for six years.

Then I saw her. Bruised. Bleeding. Those fucking rogues surrounding her like prey.

Arthur exploded. No thought. No control. Just rage and the overwhelming need to protect what was ours.

'Mate,' he'd howled as we tore through that window. ...