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His beautifully shaped nose that apparently is just like being a mind reader.
“You’d be a terrible mum if you didn’t doubt yourself.” Ben shoves a handful of chips in his mouth, and Seb lets go of my face.
“That’s fair,” I murmur, and Ben grins. Seb grumbles, and I reach up, pressing a kiss to his jaw. His beard tickles ever so slightly, but it makes him smile.
“Seb’s sense of smell is slightly superior, but we’re all good at identifying the different traits in people,” Alex says. “We’ve touched on it already, but we can tell whether someone is tired or hurt. Whether they’ve got an infection or an open wound. We can sense mood shifts, no matter how subtle.”
“Werewolves give off so much more,” Kane adds. He’s playing with my curls, wrapping them around his finger, and then unwinding them. “We can tell whether someone is strong or weak, whether they’re from a certain pack. But I can tell if someone has been a rogue before or not. There’s a level of feralness that just never goes away.”
“Feralness?” I can’t help the amusement.
Kane smirks. “Feralness, little love. I can tell if they’re pure?—”
“Pure?” Ben scoffs, leaning in towards me. “What the prude over there means, darling, is that he can tell if they’ve been fucked.”
“And how good it was,” Kane says with no shame. His eyes meet mine, darkening past their usual bright green. Flutters appear in my stomach, and I’m scared to move, aware they all smell my arousal.
“But trust me, little love,” Kane murmurs, leaning his face close to mine. “I’ve smelt what a woman smells like when they’re sexually satisfied… and I have no doubt that after a night in my bed, you’ll be smelling that way for weeks.”
I gulp, heat rising to my face as I stammer out, “But I thought… I thought you were all?—”
“Virgins?” Ben asks, sounding extremely amused right now. “We are.”
“But that doesn’t mean we’re not going to be able to pleasure you,” Topher finishes.
My face is aflame as I scoot off Seb’s lap. Neither he nor Kane try to grab me, and I instead get settled between Seb and Alex. I refuse to look at any of them.
Alex taps my shoulder, and I whimper but raise my eyes to his. The silver in them is sparkling in the light, and he smirks. “I won’t tell you the things I would do to you, since I’m holding Phoebe, but trust me when I say that the neediness you feel now will be taken very good care of.”
My heart is hammering, my thighs squished together, and I can’t tell if the heat I’m feeling is from embarrassment, arousal, desperation, or a combination of all three…
“There’s more than just what we can get from people, though,” Topher says, taking pity on me. “We can get things from houses, cars, and other animals. We mark our pack lines, our pack members, our family. Scent-marking is a huge safety tool that helps keep everyone safe.”
“Our nose is the biggest safety tool we have,” Ben adds.
They continue to go into detail about the scents, about how they can detect Phoebe’s mood, her needs, her family lines, and even her wolf’s strength, all through her smell. They’ve talked about how it compares to an adult’s and how it’s an instinctual act for a wolf to smell each new person and catalogue the changes they find.
They cover all the ins and outs of scent-marking, and even how desirable your mate’s scent is, how life-changing. How vital it is for hunting and tracking, and even for the hierarchy in a pack.
To me, my sense of smell isn’t that important. I’m the human who has a blocked nose nine months out of the year. But to wolves, they’re everything.
Phoebe begins to cry, and Alex sighs but dutifully hands her over. I whisper soft lovings and murmurs to her as I unclasp my bra so she can feed.
Based on the time, it’s cluster-feed o’clock. It’s been a little earlier the last couple of nights, and I’m so happy it’s now and not at three in the morning.
She’s cuddling close, and her soft suckles are a firm reminder that all this stress and anxiety is worth it. She is worth it.
“You had said that Phoebe smells like all of you,” I mention.
“Correct,” Topher says. The excitement is so easy to see, he’s beaming at me. It’s so unlike him, but so like him at the same time.
“So she smells like Ryan and the four of you.”
“Yes. She does,” Alex says. Despite losing hold of the tiny human, his eyes are just as wide with excitement as Topher’s.
“Phoebe’s inner wolf understands that we’re her dads, too,” Ben says, grinning at my daughter.
“All because you’re my mates,” I say, and they all nod. “So what happens to Ryan’s scent?”
