Chapter 4

Jenna POV:

The next morning, I walked downstairs. The house smelled of rain-the heavy, ozone scent of a gathering storm.

Ivana was in the living room. She had set up a makeshift easel. Next to her sat a row of my father's vials. She was uncorking them, sniffing, and leaving them open.

"You're ruining them," I said.

Ivana jumped, knocking over a blue bottle.

Moon Rain.

My father distilled it for my eighteenth birthday. It was the only thing I had left that carried his scent.

Smash.

The blue liquid splattered the white rug. The smell of pine needles and pipe tobacco hit me instantly.

"Oops," Ivana said, smiling.

I dropped to my knees, hands frantically scooping at the soaked rug. "No, no, no." Glass sliced my palms. Blood mixed with the oil.

"It smelled like dirt anyway," Ivana sneered.

A growl ripped from my throat. Not human.

I looked up. My canines extended. My eyes shifted to glowing gold.

Ivana stumbled back. "Corbett! Help! She's shifting! She's going to kill me!"

Corbett was there in an instant. He saw me on the floor, bloody hands, bared teeth.

He didn't smell the grief. He only saw a threat to his precious charge.

"Stand down!" he bellowed.

He grabbed the back of my shirt and threw me. I crashed into the wall.

"You mad dog!" he spat. "Are you insane? Growling at a pack member?"

I held up my bleeding hands. "She broke it. She broke the Moon Rain."

"It's just perfume, Jenna! Look at you! You're bleeding all over the floor. You're unstable."

He stepped between me and Ivana, shielding her.

In werewolf culture, when a mate is injured, the instinct is to heal. To lick the wound. Corbett looked at my sliced palms and curled his lip in disgust.

"Clean yourself up," he said. "And clean this mess. If I find one shard of glass, you'll sleep in the cells."

He put an arm around Ivana. "Come. Let's go to the studio. The air here is toxic."

They walked away.

I sat against the wall. The pain in my chest was gone. The bond wasn't just broken. It was dead.

I stood up. I didn't clean the rug.

I went to the kitchen, wrapped my hands in paper towels, and walked out the back door to the garage. I grabbed the go-bag I'd hidden weeks ago. Inside was my passport and a vial of Scent Masking Agent.

I applied the agent. It smelled like nothing. It erased me.

Tonight was the Pack Charity Gala. Corbett expected me there.

I would go. But I wouldn't be the Jenna he knew.