Mary Ann’s POV
The scent of wild cinnamon and moonflowers filled the abandoned garden.
For a moment, I forgot why we were there.
I stood just inside the broken gate, staring at the flowers growing beneath the eastern wall. Moonflowers climbed through the tall grass, their pale petals opening despite the morning light. Silverleaf spread around the cracked fountain, and small cinnamon blossoms grew in uneven patches beside the ruined greenhouse.
Together, they carried the same scent my wolf had always carried.
My scent.
I looked at Modric.
He stood near the gate with one hand resting against the old iron frame. His expression was careful, but I felt his nervousness through the bond.
“You knew these were here,” I said.
“Some of them.”
“You said you did not know what grew inside the
