My Second Chance Mate is a Barbarian (Sera and Fenris) novel Chapter 240

Sera

“Your scent, it has changed.”

"Since when?"

I forced the words past a throat that felt like it had been scraped with a dry stone. I kept my face tight, pulling my brows into a frown of defensive confusion. Fenris didn't let go of my arm. He tilted his head, his nostrils flaring as he drew in another slow, methodical pull of air. His grey eyes were unblinking, the pupils dark and fixed.

"Since you stepped out of that room," He shook his head slightly. "And it is not the salt, Sera. I know the smell of Madra’s cellar. This... this is different."

I swallowed hard. I needed to move. Every second I stood within his reach was another second for his nose to name the truth.

"I told you before," I said, my voice gaining a sharper, impatient edge. "I reek of that room. The brine is a stagnant, heavy quality that sticks to the skin. I need a bath. When I am done, the smell will be gone. You’re picking up the leftover filth from that cellar."

Fenris sighed, defeated. He certainly knew what he was talking about. If only he knew.

Fenris stayed where he was, his massive frame blocking the light. He didn't look convinced. He leaned in again, his nose stopping an inch from the crook of my neck. I didn't wait for him to touch me. I practically bolted, pulling my arm out of his grip with a sudden, jerky motion.

"Go to your meeting, Fenris," I called over my shoulder, not slowing down. "The elders are waiting. You know how they can be. You can come find me later. I'll be in the baths."

I didn't stop until I reached the turn in the corridor. I risked one glance back. Fenris was still standing there, nodding slowly, but the suspicion in his eyes was a physical weight in the air.

I turned the corner and ran.

My heart was hemmering loudly in my ears, it was a sound i couldn't quiet. I knew he could hear it. I knew the speed of my pulse was a confession in a language we both spoke. I navigated the stone passages, bypassing our chambers entirely. I reached the lower residential level and didn't knock. I shoved the heavy oak door open and stumbled into the room.

Mina was there.

She wasn't at the hearth. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, positioned directly in front of a small, polished metal mirror on her vanity. She didn't jump when the door hit the wall. I stood by the threshold, my breath coming in short, jagged gasps, watching her reflection.

Mina was holding a small glass jar and a brush. She was applying a faint, dark smudge to the edge of her eyelids. Even through the panic, it hit me—I hadn't seen Mina touch makeup before.

Mina’s eyes met mine in the mirror. She didn't smile. She strictly looked at me for a heartbeat, then looked back at her own reflection, continuing the slow, careful stroke of the brush.

The silence in the room was a wall. The last time I had been with her, she had looked at me with a disgust that burned. She had called me a butcher. I had decided to let the issue die down, to give her space, but the space was a luxury I no longer possessed.

Mina was the only person. Yvara was a weapon; she was loyal to Fenris. She would sell me off the second the math didn't favor the crown.

But Mina...

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