300 Dug Her Grave III

The other woman shook her head with a frown on her face. "That's not how it works, Dahlia. Even if she was a human, if Alpha Damon slept with her, his scent would be so strong she wouldn't smell like a human at all. But she does."

I made a mental note to ask this stranger for her name. Anyone that was willing to speak sense to Dahlia was an automatic candidate for Darach's inner circle. 

"So you're admitting that you have no real concrete evidence to accuse me of this?" I asked, drawing Dahlia's attention back to where it should have belonged― on me, and not on the poor woman who was this close to getting her intestines ripped out by Dahlia's own fingernails. 

"Gertrude didn't catch the faces of the people responsible, she can't give concrete details about what they were wearing, and now there is no scent either," I listed off one by one, counting on my fingers as Dahlia's face got increasingly darker.