In a world where every scent reveals the truth, I was born able to smell the soul. The good are fragrant, the rotten reek of decay—yet Alaric, the Alpha everyone fears, carries only a bitter, empty scent. They mock me as the “Broken Luna,” a fool who cannot even write her name, so my parents hid me away to keep my secret safe. Still, destiny brought me into his cold palace, where polished perfume hides nothing from me but one lonely man shivering beneath the frost.
He looked at the cake in my hands and said, eyes like ice, “The last person who gave me sweets wanted me dead.”
I simply tilted my head and replied, “I only want you to be sweet and live a long life.”
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