Damar reached for the handle, his eyes glowing with agitation, but he stopped dead. The scent hit him like a physical blow—sweet, floral, and unmistakably Arinya. It was the scent of a female in peak heat, radiating a 'call' that was so potent it felt like a command to every male in the Palace. Especially towards her mates.
"She's in heat," Damar whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of possessive fury and agonizing need.
The three men stood paralyzed in the hallway. They knew that if they opened that door now, with Thalor still mid-rut and Arinya in full heat, the palace would turn into a battlefield of instincts.
But the scent was a siren song, pulling at the marks they already bore, or the ones they were desperate to receive.
"Five days," Noah groaned, leaning his forehead against the cool stone. "She's going to be in there for five days. And we're stuck out here."
