His leopard told him right away something was off. Maybe even wrong. Sitting up on the couch, several things struck his shifter senses. The first was the scent of Glory. Everything Glory. He let her scent sit on him for a moment, analyzing. Their lust, her climax, those were easy to identify and understand. The fear and the tears? Not so easy to understand. He remembered her falling asleep with him. During that time they’d migrated; she wound up laying on his chest. Evidently she’d cried. He touched a spot on his torso that had emitted the strongest scent of her tears. A tiny pool of the moisture had dried, leaving the almost indiscernible ring of its existence on his body. The next thing his senses picked up was the quiet in the house. No sign of her heartbeat nor her breathing.
