Lucas stood frozen in the doorway, every muscle locked in a battle he was rapidly losing.
The scent was a living thing now—thick, syrupy, invasive. It coated his tongue, sank into his lungs, wrapped around his thoughts until rational thought frayed at the edges.
Citrus rind split open under summer sun, warm honey poured over fevered skin, ripe pear bruised just enough to release its sweetest juice. And beneath it all—something darker, needier, begging.
Alex whimpered again, the sound raw and broken. His head lifted just enough for glazed blue eyes to find Lucas across the room.
And something in those eyes shifted.
The heat had burned away shame, stripped away caution. What remained was pure, biological desperation—and recognition.
Alpha.
Powerful.
Dominant.
Close.
