Marcellus' POV
*****
The mansion reeked of blood and smoke after the fierce battle in the Alpha king's throne room.
Even as pack medics scrambled around the throne room to stabilize Kaelos, Marcellus walked calmly through the chaos. His boots clicked softly against the marble floors, which were smeared with streaks of blood, ash, and the remains and bloody organs of fallen pack soldiers.
"Celine escaped!" Layla's voice echoed behind him.
Of course, she did.
But not from him.
Marcellus closed his eyes briefly and inhaled. Not through his nose… No, this was a different kind of scent. It was like a thread. A mark he had left in Celine's mind like a parasite burrowing into bone.
The same spell he had left in her mind to heighten her hatred for Odessa now acted as a tracking beacon.
'You can run, little puppet, but you're still on my strings.' He thought to himself as he finally stepped out of the throne room.
