The metallic scent hit him like a punch to the face.
Zayn’s pupils dilated, his breathing even more ragged than before. His throat tightened as the scent curled into his lungs and settled there, thick and heavy.
Lily’s blood.
The scent hit Zayn hard.
His wolf stirred instantly, growling low in the back of his mind.
[Ours. Take it. Just a taste. She won’t even notice.]
Zayn’s breath hitched. His lips parted. Without thinking, his tongue brushed over his bottom lip.
She was right beneath him, shaking, bleeding. A thin line of red trailed down her arm and into the dirt.
So close…
His body leaned forward on its own. One hand braced beside her head, the other hovered just above the wound.
The wolf pushed harder.
[She’s yours. You need it. Just one lick.]
Zayn clenched his jaw.
He wanted to.
God, he wanted to.
The scent was warm, sharp—like something inside him had been waiting for it.
But that scared him.
