Chapter 359 The Scent of Butter Cookies


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    Finished.


    Aubrey never told Charles the truth. He had bought the potion with good intentions, and since most of his energy was spent at the Werewolf Security Bureau fighting criminals, he knew little about potions. Being deceived was understandable.


    And to be fair, the potion did look convincing. Scaled in ss, it gleamed mysterious and beautiful. But its real effect was only one-


    To infect werewolves with the Kajit virus.


    Aubrey lowered her gaze, her eyes fixed on the vial in her palm.


    The more beautiful a thing was, the more dangerous it often proved to be. Who would imagine that the Kajit virus–something that ravaged organs, dragged its victims through excruciating pain, and killed them in misery–could be dressed up like this, glimmering like starlight sinking into the deep sea.


    A sharp chill shed in Aubrey’s eyes. Such methods were truly vicious.


    She carefully stowed the vial away, then looked up at Charles, her tone calm again. “That traveling merchant–how do you contact him?”


    Charles wrong?”


    gave a name and the general area he worked in. His brow furrowed. “Is something


    “Nothing. I just want to understand more,” Aubrey replied as she rose. Candy had padded up to her feet without her noticing, and she bent down to rub the cat’s chin. “Since you’re back, I won’t stay.”


    Sensing she was leaving, Candy tilted its head up, those round eyes brimming with reluctance, mewing softly as it nuzzled her palm.


    Aubrey’s heart softened. She bent to scoop it up, hugging it lightly. “Be good. I’lle see you again.”


    Straightening, she met Charles’s gaze–he looked as if he wanted to speak but held back. She only gave a small nod before turning decisively to leave.


    She needed to track down that merchant and see exactly what kind of man he was, to have dared sell such a thing. If this potion had fallen into Alpha Henry’s hands instead of hers, who knew whether he might have drunk it straightaway.


    Her grip tightened. Even she couldn’t be sure what would happen if a werewolf who had once


    Chapter 359 The Scent of Butter Cookies


    4600


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    recovered became infected with Kajit again. Perhaps their antibodies would destroy it a second time. Or perhaps the virus would mutate, evolving into some strange new form even she couldn’t recognize.


    So while she worked to improve the antidote serum, she had another task–find every source of infection and eradicate it. And if possible, kill the witch who had created the Kajit virus in the first ce.


    These thoughts filled her mind as she walked. Before she realized it, her steps had carried her home.


    The ce where she had grown up. Now only Jax lived there; she’d heard he had dismissed all the servants.


    Aubrey stood at the doorway for a long while. Just as she was about to turn away, a car pulled <ol><li>up. </li></ol>


    Jax climbed out, his face brightening with surprise. “Aubrey! You came back? Come inside!” Aubrey hesitated, but Jax was already ushering her in. He gave her a once–over, relief softening his features when he saw she bore no wounds. She had already removed her bandages.


    “Aubrey, it’s such a relief you’re alright. I was scared to death before. I wanted to visit, but the Alpha said you needed rest, so I didn’t dare disturb you.” Jax chattered on as he rummaged through a cab, then brought out a box of homemade butter cookies. “Here, try some. They’re still warm–I baked them this morning.”


    The rich buttery scent filled the air. The cookies were simple in shape, rustic in appearance, yet Aubrey froze as she took them.


    This had once been the smell she most longed for in childhood–the only treat her father could make well.


    But he only baked them when he was in a good mood, as a reward. In the beginning, she had earned them a few times. Butter, as Aurelia spent more time at the house, Aubrey had turned into the “withdrawn, cold, and wayward” daughter in his eyes.


    The cookies vanished. In their ce came thesh of the wolfsbane whip, over and over each month. And after she crawled out of the basement, bloodied and broken, she would see Bailey cradling a te of fragrant cookies.


    She had been given so many that sometimes, unable to finish, she tossed them to the dogs. Bailey, smug and cruel, would sneer: “If you want some, go fight the dogs for them.”