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Damian knows something is wrong even before his eyes are open.



There is something in the air that isn't quite right, something that isn't there when he went to sleep. The air is thicker, smelling oddly sweet. It stirs a sort of hunger inside him that he can't put his finger on, especially right away after waking up. When he opens his eyes, he sees everything a little sharper than it should be. Colors are bright despite being in the dark and he can feel the comforter brushing against his skin, each heady inhale of the sweet scent curling around him.



At first, he's sleep-sluggish and unconcerned. It could just be another layer to his dream. He had been dreaming of fucking prior to waking up, after all. He turns to his side and tries to go back to sleep, to sink back into that dream that leaves such a tempting taste on his tongue, but the smell fills into his lungs with every inhale. His senses are too awake to allow him a peaceful slumber. The scent isn't something that carried over from his dream. It's coming from somewhere in his house.



The thought makes him wake violently, shooting into a sitting position and slapping on the bedside light in a split second because he needs to be sure. He's completely awake now, his senses honed and keen, like a predator seeking out prey. It's as if his wolf had woken up before him and is hungry to hunt down the scent that has invaded his senses.



Not a dream. Definitely not a dream, and if the scent is what he suspects it is, then he needs to hunt the culprit down and get rid of her before she finds his pup.



Suddenly, the door to his room opens up and he shifts in his bed, ready to pounce as the silhouette at the door becomes clearer to him and instead of lunging towards the person at the door, he freezes because he could recognize that shadow anywhere.



His pup's soft voice breaks through the heavy silence. "Something's wrong with me."