The scent of him wouldn't leave her.

It was everywhere in the air, in the steam rising from the bath, clinging to her skin like a curse. Sandalwood. Iron. And that dark, unmistakable spice that was uniquely Damir power wrapped in danger. Noor scrubbed until her skin turned raw and pink, but the memory of his blood on her hands, the heat of his body against hers, wouldn't fade. It had burned itself into her soul.