Page 66 of The Alpha King’s Hidden Mute Mate

My wolf stirred inside, growling, claws scraping my ribs.

It smelled something.

I didn't know what, but it was excited—excited like a beast discovering prey.

I turned and left, pretending to yield.

Then I circled to the theater's side.

There was a window, half-open, probably for ventilation. Not large, but for a werewolf, enough.

I checked my surroundings, confirmed no one was watching, then quickly shifted.

Silver fur, gray-blue eyes, sharp claws.

I slipped through the window.

Inside was a narrow corridor, dim lighting, air thick with perfume, sweat, and cosmetics. I moved quickly down the hallway, nose twitching, catching scent molecules in the air.

Her scent.

I caught her scent.

Faint, like jasmine and rain-soaked earth mixed together. That smell pierced my nostrils, hit some switch deep in my brain, and made my heart leap.

I quickened my pace, following that scent to a door.

Warm yellow light leaked through the crack. I heard faint sounds inside—someone moving, gathering things.

I pushed the door open with my paw.

Dressing room.

Walls lined with mirrors, frames circled by bright bulbs. The table was covered with bottles and jars, brushes, puffs, cosmetics I couldn't name. An open wardrobe in the corner held several performance costumes.

But the room was empty.

I frowned, shifting back to human form. My footsteps were light, nearly silent.

Then I heard something—from the side door.

Like something hitting the floor. Muffled, followed by a suppressed groan.

My heart skipped a beat.

I rushed to that side door, shoved it open—

She was on the floor.

Vela.

The singer who'd been radiant onstage moments ago now lay curled on the floor, face pale as paper. Fine sweat beaded her forehead, lips trembling, one hand clutching her chest, breathing rapid and weak. Her mask had slipped sideways, ties loose, hanging precariously from her ear.

"Hey!" I rushed over, dropped to one knee, and pulled her up. "What's wrong?"

No answer. Her eyes were half-closed, pupils unfocused, consciousness already fading.

Low blood sugar. I recognized it immediately. I'd seen this before—overexertion plus not eating, blood sugar plummeting. If not treated quickly, she'd slip into unconsciousness.