For a moment, the air between the two dominant alphas crackled with the familiarity of their rivalry.
He hadn't seen her in almost a year, yet the familiarity slid back into place too easily: the measured tone, the way she squared her shoulders when she wanted to hide emotion, and the distance she always kept between respect and rebellion.
Dax was aware of Marianne Lancaster's hidden feelings from the moment they formed, but he never gave her the opportunity to express them. He respected her too much to let emotion destroy their relationship.
"Something like that," she repeated, her voice steady even as her jaw flexed. "Your scent was rum and spice, but now… you have a touch of rain on you."
Dax's lips curved slightly. "You've always had an exceptional sense of smell."