In a world of hidden scents, I was born with a secret: I can smell the soul. Good people are fragrant, and evil ones reek of decay. But the Alpha Alaric—the wolf everyone calls a bloodthirsty monster—smells of nothing but overwhelming bitterness.
They call me the "Broken Luna," a fool who can’t even write her name. My parents hid me away to protect my secret, but destiny dragged me into Alaric’s cold palace. While others use perfume to hide their rot, I only see a lonely man shivering in the frost.
"The last person who gave me sweets wanted me dead," Alaric said, his eyes cold as ice as he stared at the cake in my hand.
"I just want you to be sweet and live a long life," I replied, tilting my head.
