I stared at the yellow rubber duck bobbing in our bathroom sink, its cheerful face mocking me. Something about its presence felt wrong—an intrusion in the private sanctuary I shared with my mate. I picked it up, turning it over in my hands. It was clean, as if someone had deliberately placed it here.
"Carolina?" Dylan's voice came from the bedroom. "You almost ready for the council meeting?"
"Just a minute," I called back, setting the duck down. When Dylan appeared in the doorway, I nodded toward it. "What's this doing in our sink?"
He glanced at it, his expression flickering before settling into casual dismissal. "Oh, that. Just some pack maintenance supplies. Marcus must have left them here when he was checking the plumbing last week."
My wolf stirred inside me, a low growl rumbling through our shared consciousness. *He's lying.*
"How strange," I said, watching his face carefully. "I didn't see any plumbing issues noted in the weekly reports."
Dylan's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "It was minor. Probably didn't warrant a full report."
His eyes wouldn't meet mine as he turned away. Seven years as his Luna had taught me to read the subtle signs of deception—the slight shift in posture, the way his scent changed when he was withholding something.
"Right," I said softly, letting him think I believed him.
---
The pack house was silent at midnight, most members asleep after a long day of territory patrols and pack duties. I couldn't sleep, my wolf restless and alert to something I couldn't quite name. I slipped from our bed, Dylan's steady breathing telling me he was deeply asleep.
The hallway was dark, but my enhanced Luna vision allowed me to navigate easily. I headed toward the kitchen, drawn by a strange compulsion I couldn't explain.
A soft light spilled from beneath the kitchen door. I pushed it open silently.
Dylan stood at the sink, his back to me, carefully washing something yellow in his hands. The counter beside him was lined with neat rows of rubber ducks—at least a dozen of them.
"What are you doing?" I asked, unable to hide my presence any longer.
He spun around, water dripping from his hands. "Carolina!" His voice was too loud, too startled. "I thought you were asleep."
"So did I." My eyes fixed on the ducks. "What's going on, Dylan?"
"Just... cleaning up." He wiped his hands on a towel, but his movements were jerky, uncertain. "These were left in the bathroom. I thought I'd wash them properly."
"In the middle of the night?" My wolf was fully alert now, hackles raised. "And why are there so many of them?"
His eyes darted around the room, looking anywhere but at me. "Like I said, they're just maintenance supplies. For... pipe cleaning or something."
"That's not what you said earlier." I stepped closer, and he took an instinctive step back. "Dylan, what aren't you telling me?"
"Nothing." Too quick, too defensive. "I'm tired, Carolina. Can we talk about this tomorrow?"
---
Three days later, I stood in Dylan's office, ostensibly organizing the monthly pack reports. But my attention was focused on the chair behind his desk—his chair, where his scent should be strongest.
I leaned down, inhaling deeply. Beneath his familiar pine and smoke scent was something else—something floral and distinctly feminine. Not just any feminine scent, but one I recognized instantly.
Giovanna.
My fingers tightened on the leather armrest as her scent hit me like a physical blow. It was faint but unmistakable—the same jasmine and rose perfume she'd worn seven years ago, when Dylan had chosen me as his true mate over his arranged chosen mate.
I straightened up, my heart pounding. The scent wasn't just on his chair—it permeated his clothes hanging by the door, lingering on his desk, even on the papers he'd been reading.
For how long? How long had her scent been here, growing stronger each day?
I thought about the rubber ducks, about Dylan's strange behavior, his distance. The pieces were falling into place, forming a picture I didn't want to see.
"Carolina?" Dylan's voice came from the doorway. "What are you doing in here?"
I turned slowly, meeting his eyes. "Just finishing the reports."
He nodded, but his gaze was wary. "You're working late."
"So are you." I watched him carefully. "Where were you earlier? I couldn't find you for the territory inspection."
"Pack business." His standard answer lately. "With Marcus."
But Marcus had been in the training grounds all afternoon. I'd seen him there myself.
"Giovanna was by today," I said casually, watching his reaction.
His pupils dilated slightly, his scent shifting with alarm. "Oh?"
"She said hello." I smiled, though it didn't reach my eyes. "Seems like she's been around a lot lately."
"Just pack business," he repeated, but his voice had lost its conviction.
I nodded, turning back to the reports. But inside, my wolf was howling a warning I could no longer ignore.
