Smells Patrick wrong

Intuiting the rules from a few plays, she waited for the ball to snap and darted across the field, separating from the others in a burst of speed. The thrower who had invited her to his team fired from back in the rain, ball spiraling wide of her trajectory. She sensed Patrick coming up on her, caught the scent of his exertion—it tasted aggressive and wrong somehow.

Chapter 19, Page 299-300


Ryn caught the knife and her eyes snapped open in the tent. Naomi startled awake beside her.
The razor tip of Patrick’s steel pocket knife trembled an inch from Naomi’s throat, held back from her pulsing carotid by Ryn’s hand.
The blond male threw all his weight into the knife, but Ryn dragged the point until it hovered above her instead. Glancing angrily at Naomi, she growled, “I only promised to spare him until he attacked.”

Chapter 21, Page 331