"You shouldn't think of it as your head so much as it's mine," he said with a callous laugh.  "You are what I have made you, and I have laid my mark upon you.  And, no, I have expected you to do exactly as you have done - and if you hadn't done it naturally, I'm not sure it would have worked at all."<br/><br/>He moved towards her,  "Consider.  You already know I've set you up, that I told the witches that you were coming, and even how to subdue you without too much fuss.  Or do you think they've got access to a case of fentanyl, a word no doubt as meaningless to you as it was to the witches?  They knew you were coming and just happened to have the exact weapon to neutralize you<i>without</i>killing you.  And then you just<i>happen</i>to be interrogated with the one werewolf in perhaps all of the world with whom you could form a psychic bond?  And it's not because he's a werewolf, but because he's a psychic, you know.  Then you just<i>happen</i>to learn that I killed your parents, giving you a tragic backstory which heightens your psychic vulnerability in a way that's positively romantic.<br/><br/>"What if you were now to learn that I can absolutely, with total certainty fake scents?  Are not my senses - particularly where blood is concerned - as sharp as yours, if not sharper?  Do you imagine I do not understand the exact tang of each stink of every werewolf I've ever met?<br/><br/>"You have done precisely as I asked of you, and done so magnificently, my dear Vara.  Now all you need to do is bring your new beau home.  I mean neither of you any harm.  Far from it!  With the two of you by my side, the world can be ours."