Dominic's POV
The scent hit me the moment I stepped into the training grounds.
It wasn't just noticeable,it was all-consuming.
A scent so sweet, so perfect, it sent a violent jolt through my system. My wolf lunged forward, snarling, wanting.
I stiffened, inhaling deeply.
What the hell?
It was unlike anything I had ever smelled before—rich, intoxicating, laced with something so deeply tempting it made my blood hum. My instincts sharpened instantly, my body tensing as I scanned the area.
Where is it coming from?
I exhaled slowly, but that only made it worse. The scent wrapped around my senses, pulling, demanding. My wolf growled low in my chest, the possessive edge in it startling even me.
I never reacted like this.
Never.
Golden eyes swept over the gathered warriors, my gaze flickering across each one, searching. Hunting.
But nothing.
No one stood out.
No one looked like they were affected.
No one carried the scent that had me teetering on the edge of something dangerous.
Frustration flared, sharp and biting.
This didn't make sense. I could track scents with terrifying precision. My wolf never failed to find its prey.
And yet—
The scent was everywhere, filling the space around me like an invisible noose, but I couldn't trace it to a source.
I clenched my jaw, controlling the irritation rising in my chest. This was not how I had planned to start the morning.
I had woken before dawn, as always, already prepared for the arrival of new warriors. I expected them to be competent though not many could match the strength and discipline of Blackridge. Still, I was willing to train those who proved useful.
But now?
Now my focus was fractured.
Because somewhere among these warriors, hidden from me, was a scent that made my wolf snarl for ownership.
And I would find out who it belonged to.
I pushed the irritation down, forcing my focus back where it belonged.
The new warriors stood before me, their postures tense but disciplined. Some looked eager, others wary. They should be. Blackridge didn't tolerate weakness.
I let my gaze sweep over them, lingering longer than I meant to,still searching.
Nothing.
The scent was still there, faint but persistent, taunting me, yet I couldn't pinpoint it. It made my wolf restless, pacing beneath my skin, but I locked my expression into cold authority.
"Blackridge is not like whatever pack you came from," I said, my voice sharp, controlled. "Here, you either prove your worth or you break."
Some of them stiffened. Good.
I took a step forward, my presence deliberate, letting the weight of my dominance settle over them. A few lowered their heads instinctively. Others clenched their jaws, refusing to yield.
My lips curled slightly. We'll see how long that lasts.
"You are warriors now, and warriors earn their place here." My golden eyes flickered across them. "Slacking is not tolerated. Hesitation in battle will get you killed. If you cannot handle that, leave now."
Silence.
No one moved.
I smirked. That's what I thought.
"Your training begins before dawn. Five A.M. sharp," I continued. "If you're not on the grounds by then, don't bother showing up at all."
A few exchanged wary glances. I didn't care. They'd learn soon enough I don't repeat myself.
"Your barracks are down that path," I nodded toward the stone buildings in the distance. "You'll eat, sleep, and train there. Step out of line, and my enforcers will handle it."
My voice dropped lower, my dominance pressing down like an iron weight.
"And if I have to step in personally… you won't like it."
Silence.
Good. They understood.
But even as I dismissed them, my own frustration remained.
That scent—that damn scent—was still there.
I was going to find out who it belonged to.
The dining hall was filled with the sounds of clattering plates and quiet conversations. The new warriors had just arrived, but tensions were already simmering beneath the surface. I could sense it,the subtle shifts in posture, the suppressed aggression.
It didn't take long before it exploded.
A loud crash. A snarl. The sharp thud of a body hitting the stone floor.
I turned sharply, my golden eyes locking onto the commotion at the far end of the hall.
Two warriors,one of mine and one of the newcomers,locked in a struggle, chairs knocked over in their wake. The newcomer, a stubborn-looking, smaller wolf, moved with sharp, controlled strikes, his body a blur of speed and precision.
Even when my warrior tried to pin him down, the smaller one twisted free, slamming his opponent's head into the table with a force that rattled the wood.
A growl rumbled in my chest.
"Enough."
My voice wasn't loud, but it carried through the hall like a whip. Everything stilled. The warriors immediately pulled apart, breathing heavily, eyes still burning with hostility.
I stalked forward, my gaze locking onto the newcomer.
"What the hell is going on here?" My voice was sharp, edged with authority. "You just got here, and you're already picking fights?"
The smaller warrior straightened, chest rising and falling with exertion. His dark eyes met mine, guarded, unyielding.
Something tightened in my gut.
That scent.
It was him.
The intoxicating, irresistible scent that had been haunting me since the moment they arrived. It clung to his skin, wrapping around my senses, making it damn near impossible to focus on anything else.
I clenched my jaw. This doesn't make sense.
Suppressing the urge to inhale deeper, I forced my attention back to the fight. The scent was making my head cloudy, making my wolf restless in a way that infuriated me.
Then I saw it.
A thin trail of blood slipping from his lip.
Rage spiked so fast I almost bared my teeth.
Why am I angry?
They were warriors,meant to fight, meant to bleed.
But looking at him, so small, so defiant, with my warrior's blood staining his knuckles and his own lip split open—
It didn't sit right with me.
His scent swirled around me again, sending something hot and unwelcome through my chest.
I narrowed my eyes at him, forcing my thoughts back under control. Focus.
"What's your name?" My voice came out sharper than intended.
The warrior straightened, his chin tilting up slightly. Defiant. Unyielding.
"Ashen," he said.
His voice—Moon help me.
It was lower than I expected, smooth but edged with quiet strength. Something about it shot straight through me, setting my skin on fire.
My cock twitched, heat pooling in my gut.
I clenched my fists so hard my knuckles cracked. What the hell?
This was ridiculous. I never reacted like this. Never let anyone get under my skin. But this wolf,this stubborn, frustrating, reckless wolf,was making me feel things I had no business feeling.
And he wouldn't stop looking at me.
Straight into my eyes.
No submission. No fear.
He was challenging me.
If he were mine, I would put him over my knees and—
I froze.
What the fuck did I just think?
My wolf snarled, half in agreement, half in warning.
This was wrong. I didn't do this,I didn't lose control, didn't get distracted by some reckless warrior with a smart mouth and a scent that made my instincts riot.
I took a slow, deep breath, forcing my body to calm.
"Clean yourself up," I muttered, voice strained. "And stay out of trouble."
Then I turned sharply, stalking away before I did something reckless.
But even as I left, the scent lingered, twisting through my lungs like a noose.
And for the first time in years, I felt like I was losing control.