Bernice POV
The knife cuts through the air straight towards me. I struggle in my bonds, twisting enough so that the knife plunges into my shoulder instead of my chest. Pain explodes in my body and I clamp my mouth shut against a scream – I will not show weakness.
There’s a snarl from the doorway – I turn my head and see Landry, standing tall and imposing, shoulders back and hands in fists, eyes narrowed at the assassin. His eyes betray how close his wolf is to the surface. He looks nearly dangerous.
As the assassin draws back to try and stab me again, I catch her scent. It’s definitely a female, and there’s a familiar edge to her smell, one I remember smelling just hours ago.
It’s not the natural scent of the killer, as assassins always mask their natural scent, to hide who they are.
