Scent Of A Mate — Catherine Vale

She-wolf. Rilen could smell her; could virtually taste her on the back of his tongue. He almost didn't want to turn around and look. What if he was wrong? He'd waited two hundred years for this. Desperately searching, about to give up…believing he was just not destined to ever find her. And yet here, stuck outside on this dark, rainy night, her scent wafted over him like a fading song in a dream. How could it be that here of all places and tonight of all nights, he may finally have reached the end of his achingly long search?No two she-wolves could carry that same fragrant imprint, not even if they grew up in the same pack. Wolf shifters like Rilen could get mixed up with a brother-in-arms, especially if they spent a long time together on runs or hunting as part of a pack. It was easy to confuse the enemy when it was hard to tell wolves apart from afar. But a she-wolf…well, there could only be one. Each female had her special blend of honeyed heat that couldn't be replicated by another, no matter their familiarity. So if his mind wasn't playing tricks on him, then this was happening now. He'd finally found her and would know within seconds if he was right or wrong. Don't let him be wrong.