Logan's POV
I know that face but it's his scent that hits me first.
His cologne—something expensive and citrus-sharp—mixes with the club's stench of sweat and sex and suffering. But underneath it, there's the metallic tang of him. The same scent that clung to my father's corpse.
The door clicks shut behind me.
Noah stands frozen between us, his back to me, shoulders rigid.
I know that face.
Because it's the same one that stood beside my dying father and handed my brother a sword. It's the same one that calmly pronounced death as though it were scripture. Like he was the damn voice of God.
It's the same one I've seen in every nightmare since.
And now… it's the face of the man my mate calls "father."
Nathaniel Aldridge.
He has Noah's eyes.
And somehow, that makes everything worse.
