Jasmin's POV
Now that the rain had stripped away my perfume completely, I realized something that made my blood run cold. Max carried no wolf scent whatsoever.
Nothing at all.
What kind of bloodline could cause that?
I had never encountered a werewolf without a scent before. A wolf's natural scent defined everything about them. It marked their identity, their place in the pack hierarchy. Most wolves developed their signature scent during adolescence when their inner beasts awakened. Even young pups carried the faint promise of their future fragrance.
But Max possessed none of that.
Only the intoxicating combination of fresh rain, rich earth, and weathered leather that seemed uniquely his own.
Just Max himself.
This revelation meant his earlier words held truth after all.
He had not been deceiving me.
