Page 77 of Written in Scent

He presses a soft kiss to my forehead. “Then we take it one day at a time. No pressure. Just us.”

I nod against him and curl closer, tucking my head under his chin. His cedar and pepper scent wraps around me like the coziest blanket, protective and full of promise. His purr starts up to soothe me and I am a goner. My eyes grow heavier with every breath I take.

Safe in Alex’s arms, with the comfort of his purr under my ear, sleep finally finds me. I drift off without fighting it, the weight of the day and the warmth of the pack house settling over me like a gentle tide.

Saturday morning sunlight spills across our dorm room, catching on the scattered clothes I’ve already tried on and discarded twice. My stomach flutters with a mix of nerves and bright excitement that makes it hard to sit still.

Sophie lounges on her bed, grinning like she knows every thought running through my head while Noodle winds figure eights around my ankles, purring loudly and demanding attention with every pass.

I finally decide on the silky navy dress I’ve been saving. It falls just above my knees in gentle folds, pretty enough to feel special but still academic enough that I won’t feel out of place. At least, I don’t think — I don’t actually know where we’re going. I fasten the delicate diamond butterfly necklace around my throat and clip the blue morpho wing keychain onto my bag. Both gifts from the pack still make my chest warm every time I touch them.

Sophie whistles low when I turn around. “Look at you. Adrian is going to forget how to speak English when he sees you in that dress.”

I laugh and give Noodle one last scratch behind the ears before grabbing my bag. “I’m just hoping I don’t trip over my own feet.”

“Go have fun and be nerdy,” she calls after me. “And tell me everything later.”

The air outside feels crisp, fall having truly set in finally, when I step through the dorm doors. Adrian waits on the path near the entrance, exactly where he said he would be. He looks handsome in a crisp white button-up shirt layered under a navy cardigan with the sleeves rolled once. His wire-rimmed glasses sit perfectly on his nose, and the soft morning light catches in his brown hair.

I take one look at him and burst out laughing.

Adrian’s eyebrows lift in surprise, but a shy smile curves his mouth when he realizes what I am laughing at. We’re both wearing navy. The color matches so perfectly it looks almost planned.

“I really like it,” he admits, cheeks flushing just a little. “The coincidence feels like a good sign.”

He steps closer and holds out a small, beautifully wrapped box. “I brought you something small.”

I take the box with careful fingers and unwrap it right there on the path. Inside lies a delicate vintage glass specimen jar containing a single preserved firefly. Its wings spread in perfect detail, I can almost envision how it would have glowed in life. Tucked beside it is a small handwritten note in Adrian’s neat handwriting.

For the girl who makes everything glow.

My breath catches. The gift is so perfectly thoughtful, so completely him, that my eyes sting for a moment. I look up at Adrian, heart full.

“This is beautiful,” I whisper. “Thank you. I love it.”

He smiles, and for a moment we just stand there. I breathe in his scent, crisp rain on stone mixed with bergamot and paper, clean and intelligent and so comforting. It wraps around me like a living embrace as we turn toward his car together.

This already feels like the beginning of something wonderful.

Adrian opens the passenger door for me with politeness that I am starting to adore. I slide into the seat and breathe in the clean leather and faint trace of his scent that already lingers inside the car. He circles around and settles behind the wheel, starting the engine with a faint hum.

The campus slips away in the rearview mirror as we turn onto the main road.

The conversation flows easily from the first mile. We talk about my week in the archives and the new specimens Jules assigned to me. Adrian listens with genuine interest, asking thoughtful questions that make me feel seen. After a comfortable lull I realize something and tilt my head toward him.

“I feel like I always hog the science talk,” I say, smiling a little. “I know you’re studying biochemistry, but what led you to that?”

Adrian glances over at me, green eyes warm behind his glasses. “I can’t specialize just yet,” he answers, an almost giddiness entering his voice. “But once I can, I want to hone in on molecular signaling and chemosensory systems. Scent receptors and pheromones, mostly. The way chemical messages travel between organisms and how brains interpret them.”

My eyebrows lift in delight. It feels so perfectly right for him.

He continues, the words coming a little tentative now, more personal. “I grew up as the quiet one in my family pack. The other alphas were louder, more athletic, guys that everyone noticed right away. I always felt a little different. Like I never quite fit the typical alpha mold. Books were my thing, not sports or parties. Science was the first place I ever felt like I belonged. It let me understand the world in a way that made sense to me.”

He pauses, fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel. “I’ve felt different from typical alphas my whole life. Until I found this field. It showed me that being thoughtful and analytical doesn’t make me any less of an alpha. It just makes me… me.”

The honesty in his voice is heartwarming. I reach over and rest my hand on his arm for a moment, feeling the heat of him through the cardigan sleeve.

Adrian glances at me again, a shy smile touching his mouth. “I’ve been looking forward to this date for a long time,” he confesses softly. “Since long before you officially accepted the courtship invitation. Possibly since the first time I saw you in the Research Methods lecture hall, sitting up front taking immaculate notes while everyone else looked half asleep.”