The air in the room didn't just smell like Anita anymore—it smelled like Nova.
The scent was no longer just a faint, fruity trail; it had exploded into something deep, primal, and intoxicating. It was the scent of a female wolf finally awakening, drenched in the heat of her first true arousal. To Gotti's Alpha senses, it was like a physical blow to the chest.
Anita was fast asleep, her head tilted back against the headboard. The white towel had loosened slightly in her slumber, slipping just enough to expose the smooth, ivory curve of her shoulder and the rising heat of her chest. Her skin was flushed a delicate pink, and her lips—the ones he had just bruised with his own—were parted, letting out soft, rhythmic sighs.
Gotti stayed pinned to the door, his fingers digging into the dark wood until it splintered. His wolf wasn't just growling now; it was howling, demanding he cross the room and claim what the moon had finally revealed.
