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91 You Are My Mate
Vivian's POV Something's not right. I'm hiding in the bedroom, pacing around with my arms crossed, like an ant trapped in a hot pot with no way out. Ever since I encountered that mysterious man in the garden – no, I should now call him Albert – my mind has been in turmoil. He's definitely not a messenger for the rogues, or more accurately, not a werewolf at all. I bit my lip, recalling his appearance and that peculiar scent. It was a chilling, somewhat sweet smell, mixed with the stale stench of old blood. It didn't have the warmth and vitality that werewolves possess. It's... I clutch the hem of my robe, my mind racing back to the knowledge my master once imparted to me. Suddenly, a memory strikes me. It was a snowy winter's night, and my master and I were sitting by the fire in our
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