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Ronan stared hard at the blue-eyed wolf. Little fucker, thought he could sneak in here and…what? It wasn’t like the punk could get back out again.
Was he an assassin? It wouldn’t be the first time some asshole alpha sent lackeys in here to kill a Junkyard shifter.
The intruder had been beaten, and he knew it as well. The wolf turned its head, showing Ronan its throat. Yielding.
The scent of poppies filled his nose. Ronan inhaled, wanting more of it, and wondering where it came from. Ronan’s nose followed the scent toward the wolf’s neck.
Wait. This wolf smelled like poppies? It was distinctly feminine. He scrambled off of him…her.
Shit. He’d tackled a woman.