Page 103 of Written in Scent

Wave after wave rolls over me, bright and overwhelming, until the desperate fire finally eases into a warm, sated glow.

I come back to myself slowly, breathing hard, skin damp and trembling. Alex presses one last tender kiss to my thigh before rising up to kiss my lips, tasting like me and satisfaction. Adrian strokes my hair, murmuring praise against my temple.

The door opens. Jamie and Chase step inside, their relief visible in every line of their bodies. Jamie crawls onto the bed immediately, curling around my side and pressing gentle kisses to my shoulder. Chase takes the other side, his massive arm draping carefully over me like a protective shield, his pine scent grounding and safe.

I am surrounded now, held and cherished by all four of them. The heat is gone and my mind is clear again. For a long moment we simply breathe together, soft touches and intimate words filling the space between us.

But even in the afterglow I feel the question hovering unspoken in the room. I avoid it for now though, and let myself sink deeper into their arms, safe and loved.

I watch Elodie take small sips from the glass Jamie brought, her small hands still a little shaky around the cool crystal. She’s curled right in the middle of Alex’s big bed, tucked between the four of us like she belongs nowhere else, and for the first time in hours her scent has settled back to a calmer note. The desperate bloom and the edge of fever are gone now, thankfully.

The relief hits me hard in the chest, sharp enough that I have to lock my jaw so I don’t let out the growl building there. Thank fuck the spike broke. I hate seeing her like that, lost to it, even when she trusts us to take care of her.

But the relief doesn’t last long.

My instincts are still buzzing under my skin, scanning every breath she takes, every tiny shift in her posture, looking for any sign the heat might try to come back. It came on so fast tonight. Too fast. The trip is only days away and the thought of her out there in the middle of nowhere, a day's travel from us, with her body doing whatever the hell it wants… it sits like a stone in my gut.

Adrian keeps stroking her hair in those careful passes he always uses when she needs grounding. Jamie is on her other side, murmuring some dumb joke about how the osso buco probably started the whole thing, trying to coax a smile out of her. Alex has one arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close against his chest like he can shield her from the world just by being solid enough. They are all soft with her, voices low and easy, exactly what she needs right now.

Me? I stay quiet. Arms crossed over my chest, back against the headboard, watching everything. Bracing. Because I already know where this conversation is going the second she finishes that water, and part of me wishes I could keep my mouth shut for once.

Alex waits until she drains the last sip and sets the glass on the nightstand. His voice comes out gentle, the way it always does when he’s trying not to scare her, but I hear the weight underneath it.

“Elodie,” he says, thumb brushing her hip. “That spike came on quicker than the last one. With the field trip only a few days away… we need to talk about it.”

I feel her tense against him before he finishes.

My instincts flare hotter, telling me to pull her close, to fix this, to keep her here where I can watch over her every second. But I keep my mouth shut for now.

I try, I really do, but the words burn in my throat.

“If her heat risk is ramping up this fast,” I say, voice rough and low, “she should skip the trip.”

The room goes dead quiet. Every set of eyes turns toward me, but I keep mine locked on Elodie. My protective instincts are roaring too loud to soften this. “The rainforest is not a campus lab. It’s remote, hot, humid, full of unknowns. If another spike hits out there, hours from any real help, with bugs and weather and God knows what else… I’m not willing to risk it. Your safety comes first.”

Elodie’s face changes instantly. She pulls away, sitting up from Alex’s chest, eyes widening like I just slapped her. The sated look from minutes ago vanishes, replaced by something sharp and hurt that slices straight through my ribs.

I hate it. I hate every single word I just said, even though every one of them is true. My instincts are screaming at me to lock her down, to keep her here where I can watch over her every second. But seeing the way she is looking at me right now makes me feel like the biggest asshole in the room.

Jamie shifts beside her, uncomfortable. Adrian’s hand stills in her hair. Alex stays quiet, but I can feel the tension rolling off him. None of them argue with me. They’re all thinking the same damn thing. I just said it out loud first.

Elodie’s bottom lip trembles for half a second before she presses them together hard. Her bright blue eyes, still a little glassy from everything earlier, fill with something that looks dangerously close to tears.

I want to take it back. I want to pull her into my chest and tell her I will go with her, that I will stand in the middle of the fucking jungle and fight off every insect if it means she gets to do what she loves. But the words won’t come. My throat feels too tight.

All I can do is sit there with my arms still crossed, watching the damage I just caused settle over the woman I would burn the world down to protect.

Elodie makes a broken sound in the back of her throat. A whine. The kind that hits me square in the chest and makes every protective instinct I have flare up at once.

Then the tears come.

They start slow, just a shimmer in her eyes and one slipping down her cheek. But within seconds they are falling faster, and her breathing turns shaky. She sits up straighter, pulling away from Alex’s chest entirely, her small hands fisting in the sheets.

“This is exactly what I was afraid of,” she says, voice cracking. “That the pack would always come first. That my designation would take away everything I have worked so hard for. I fought to get that spot on the trip. I earned it. And now one spike and suddenly I have to give it up? Like my dreams don’t matter compared to keeping me safe and locked away.”

The guilt slams into me so hard I feel it in my bones. I hate this. I hate that I’m the one who made her cry. My words did this. My blunt, heavy handed need to protect her just broke the woman I would do anything for.

My chest feels too tight, like someone wrapped steel bands around my ribs.