In the space of a blink, Fenris appeared before me with Elara Ashford in his arms. His scent hit me first: sunlit marble and white cedar and something sterile beneath it, like snow over a battlefield. Three thousand years, and it still smelled the same. My wolf recoiled.
He looked exactly the same as before. That face, beautiful enough to ruin kingdoms, hadn't aged a single day.
The woman cradled against him glowed with the same vitality. But her scent was wrong. Chamomile and clean linen and warm milk, the purely human smell of her, overlaid with a thin, artificial veneer of violet and cold stone that didn't belong to her. It smelled borrowed. It smelled like something stolen.
Fenris looked me up and down, his brow furrowing. "This Supreme Alpha has never laid eyes on you. What do you mean, 'a long time'?"
Oh. I had almost forgotten. After my body reformed, my appearance had changed completely.
No wonder he didn't recognize me.
But my attention wasn't on him. Every ounce of it was fixed on Elara, and I had no patience to spare for Fenris.
I stared at Elara, unblinking. "You're looking well. Rosy cheeks, bright eyes. My master's Wolf Core must be serving you nicely."