My Second Chance Mate is a Barbarian (Sera and Fenris) novel Chapter 183

Elara

"You don't stink."

Those three words hung in the stagnant, dusty air of the warehouse like a death sentence. I stared at him, my knees still burning from the impact with the concrete floor. For a full minute, my brain simply refused to process what he’d said. It didn't make any sense. Every one of them—every wolf that had stormed our village, every guard that had shoved us into the wagons—had that thick, heavy stench of rotting meat and wet fur. It was a smell that made my throat close up.

But Aldric? He stood there with that silk handkerchief in his hand, looking down at me like I was a rare piece of porcelain he’d found in a junk pile. I didn't dare ask what he meant. I didn't dare confirm a single thing. I was too scared to make sense of the fact that he smelled like a clean breeze before a storm. It felt like a trap.

Aldric was still smiling.

"What is your name?" he asked.

My throat was a desert. I tried to speak, but the sound that came out was just a pathetic, wet click. I stuttered, my mind completely blank, like I’d forgotten the question as soon as he’d asked it. I felt like a bird trapped in a shoebox.

Aldric didn't get angry. He didn't snap his fingers or growl. He just waited, his head tilted slightly to the side.

"Your name, dear," he said again, his voice as smooth as the silk in his hand.

"E-Elara," I finally managed to choke out.

Aldric repeated it. "Elara."

He said it again, and then a third time, his tongue hitting his teeth on the 'L' with a soft, rhythmic click. He rolled the syllables around in his mouth like he wanted to know exactly how the name tasted. It felt like he was chewing on me.

"Elara," he murmured, his eyes never leaving mine. "Such a beautiful name. It has a certain... clarity to it."

He went quiet for a moment, just staring. I felt his aura before he even moved. It wasn't the raw, loud aggression of the other wolves. It was a deep, silent pressure that made my insides shiver. He had this dangerous allure, a refinement that was a hundred times more terrifying than a bared fang. He was the first of his kind I’d ever been around that didn't smell like a butcher's bin, and that mystery made my skin crawl.

Then, he smiled again. It was the kind of gentle smile a grandfather gives a child right before he tells them a bedtime story.

"Would you like to come with me, Elara?"

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