Page 21 of Written in Scent

I stop a respectful distance away, watching her. She moves with such a certain purpose that I find myself strangely captivated. I have no idea what she is studying. Some kind of environmental survey? It kind of reminds me of the ones I did in high school biology class. Whatever it is, she approaches it with a total focus that makes everything around her fade.

The pink lemonade scent wraps around me, sweet and addictive. Being near it feels like the first deep breath I have taken all day… maybe all my life. My alpha instincts settle in a way they almost never do, calm and assertive at the same time.

This is her.

This is our omega.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. Jamie checking in. I glance at the message and type a quick reply saying I’m running a little late but on my way.

I should go, but instead I take one more moment to watch her. The way she diligently works, completely absorbed in whatever task she’s doing. It’s captivating.

One of the other students in the green area starts walking toward a nearby building. I jog over to him before he can get too far.

“Hey, quick question,” I say, keeping my voice casual. “What are you all doing out here?”

The freshman alpha looks excited to explain. “It’s an ecology field study for entomology. We’re mapping insect populations in the different squares.”

I tilt my head. “Entomology?”

“Insects,” he says with a grin. “We’re all in the specialized freshman stream.”

I thank him and take one last long look at her. She’s still kneeling in her square, clipboard in hand, completely unaware of the way her presence has shifted everything for my pack.

I jog the rest of the way to meet Jamie. When I reach him, he’s leaning against my car with that easy grin already in place. I slide into the driver’s seat without a word about what I just saw. I want to investigate properly first. No sense getting the pack’s hopes up until I know more.

When we pull into the driveway at home and Jamie hops out with his usual easy energy, already cracking a joke about my mysterious lateness, I manage a laugh but my mind is still back on that green quad.

Our pack house always feels like the one place the world can’t touch me. I drop my bag by the door and head straight to the kitchen island, pulling out my laptop before I can talk myself out of it. The entomology program page loads quickly. I scan the details and feel a smile spread across my face. It is the only specialized stream of its kind in the entire country. Highly competitive. Extremely rigorous. Our omega is not just smart, she is exceptional.

Adrian walks in from the hallway and stops short when he sees me. “You’re smiling after your weekly call with your dad? Did something break in the universe?”

I lean back in the chair and let out a short laugh. “The call was the same as always. Exhausting. But the afternoon turned out better than expected. Practice helped.”

Adrian studies me for a second, then sighs when he notices the empty counter. “You haven’t eaten since practice, have you?”

Before I can answer he is already moving around the kitchen, pulling out ingredients with the nimble efficiency that always makes the space feel calmer. Chase is out, but Adrian handles it without missing a beat, the way he always does when one of us needs it.

While he works I keep researching, my alpha instincts already stirring. I want to give her something meaningful… not flowers or jewelry or anything generic. I picture her again, kneeling in the grass without a care for her clothes or the dirt, completely absorbed in her work. The image sticks. This can’t be a normal courting gift.

I fall down several rabbit holes before I find it. An antique entomology field guide, hardback, beautifully illustrated, coming up for auction in a few days. It feels exactly right, rare and thoughtful, something that matches the way she studies the world around her.

I pick up my phone and call one of my father’s assistants who sometimes helps with pack matters. She answers on the second ring.

“I need you to bid on something for me,” I say. “Whatever it takes. Make sure we get it.”

Adrian sets a plate in front of me without comment, but I catch the small, knowing smile on his face as he slides into the seat across from me.

This is only the beginning.

The air has taken on a sharper bite over the last few days, the kind that makes long sleeves feel like a small mercy. I walk across campus in my jeans and a simple blouse, the fabric light against my skin as the late morning sun filters through the changing leaves. I should’ve brought a jacket.

I’m still thrilled about my new permanent desk in the archives, it’s beyond anything that I could have anticipated as a freshman. But another feeling keeps pushing its way in, one I wish would leave me alone.

An entire week has passed since that clumsy collision with Jamie Miller, and I’m still thinking about his scent. Warm golden amber threaded with vanilla and muted citrus. It’s ridiculous. I keep telling myself it was nothing, just strange omega hormones and bad timing. I’m here for my degree. Not for boys who smell like comfort and sunlight and entirely too much trouble. Especially boys with dimples.

And yet my body thrums with arousal every time my thoughts drift to him. Even now, my nipples peak out through my blouse and it has nothing to do with the cold. It comes on unbidden and unwanted, yet I wonder how true that statement really is.

I want to focus on what matters. The field trip opportunity Dr. Halvorsen mentioned still lingers. I’ve been counting down the days to this lecture with Dr. Okonkwo, hoping it will give me the chance to ask about the rainforest expedition properly. With my specialized track, I don’t have regular weekly classes like most students. Every week is tailored into an overall plan for my studies. Which is so cool, but I also wish that particular class had been scheduled sooner.