Page 115 of Written in Scent

Chase is next, the beginning and end of everything for me. I’m drawn to him with a force that leaves no room for hesitation. I turn in the nest, still slick and trembling from Adrian’s knot, and crawl into his massive arms.

Chase is already reaching for me, his deep brown eyes laced with emotion even as his body radiates raw power. He gathers me close, chest to chest, and rolls us so I am cradled beneath him. His pine forest and clean musk scent wraps around me like a shield. He holds me tight, one thick arm banded beneath my shoulders, the other hand cradling the back of my head as he slides inside me in one powerful thrust.

The stretch is overwhelming in the most perfect way. He is bigger than the others, thicker, and every measured stroke fills me completely. I cling to his broad shoulders, nails digging into beautiful black ink, while he thrusts raw and primal.

I moan his name, hips rising to meet every stroke, lost in the safety of being held so completely.

His knot begins to swell, and I whimper, pressing closer, needing everything he has to give. Chase’s hand slides up to cup my jaw as he leans in. “I love you,” he breathes against my lips.

His knot locks deep inside me at the exact moment his teeth sink into my neck higher up, closer to my jawline. The bite is firm and claiming, pleasure exploding through the sting. The bond snaps into place like the final lock on a door I never want to open again.

Chase’s emotions overwhelm me in a fierce, protective wave. Tender loyalty follows, bone deep and endless. Beneath it all is his solemn vow to keep me safe without ever dimming my light. He will shield me from the world, but never from my dreams. He will stand between me and danger, but never between me and the sky.

The pack’s soft murmurs of love surround us. Their scents link together, tighter than ever, all four bonds now sealed and glowing on my skin.

The full pack link settles into place inside my chest like four distinct heartbeats banded in a drum line forever with my own. Alex’s steady command, Jamie’s bright joy, Adrian’s calm intelligence, and Chase’s fierce protectiveness all weave together into something deeper than love, something that feels like home.

The mating marks all over my neck throb pleasantly, beautiful and permanent. Each one pulses with its own rhythm, a living map of belonging.

My heat has finally broken, my body temperature coming back to normal.

My alphas surround me, all tangled together in a cuddle pile of limbs that should be uncomfortable but feels just right.

I arrived at Rosewood University campus as a shy girl determined to stay alone, convinced that independence meant isolation. I hid my omega nature behind scent blockers and notebooks, terrified that a pack would dim the parts of me I loved most.

But I have emerged… like the butterflies and moths I study, breaking free of the chrysalis of fear and spreading wings I never knew I had. I am transformed, fully myself.

I’m still the obsessive entomologist who loses hours in the archives pinning specimens and sketching wing structures. I’m still the secret poet who writes verses in the margins of her notes. I’m still the independent dreamer who earned every achievement on her own merit, the girl who fought for her place on the field trip and refused to let anyone take it from her.

My pack is here to support me, to lift me, to love every curious, stubborn, brilliant part of me. They will never dim my light. They only give me the sky.

I lie in the center of them, surrounded by strong arms and familiar scents, utterly claimed and utterly free.

I’m no longer just Elodie. I’m the moth who chose her own light, and my pack is the night sky that lets me shine.

Epilogue

One month has passed since the bonds settled into my skin, and somehow it already feels like a lifetime and no time at all.

The mating marks on my neck have softened into faint silvery scars that tingle with pleasure whenever any of my alphas come near. I still catch myself touching them absently in the archives, a secret smile on my face while I plan the rescheduled rainforest expedition for winter break.

The new trip is even better than the original, smaller and filled with actual researchers instead of students. Every evening, though, I leave my notebooks behind and come home to my pack. That part still surprises me in the sweetest way.

Thanksgiving fills the pack house with noise and warmth and the most wonderful chaos. The rich smell of roasting turkey drifts from the kitchen, mingling with cinnamon apples baking in the oven and the sharp green scent of pine from the garlands draped along the banister.

My parents arrive first, relief on Mom and Dad’s faces when they see me safe and smiling. The doorbell rings in quick succession, and the house fills even more. Families arrive in waves, each group bringing their own energy and scent that layers over the turkey and cinnamon already thick in the air.

Jamie’s parents and siblings are quieter than he is, reserved academics and professionals with careful smiles and measured greetings. The conversation starts stiff — work updates, polite questions about the house — but Jamie lights them up the way he always does.

He slings an arm around his alpha mother’s shoulders, launches into an exaggerated story about filming a lacrosse practice gone wrong, and within minutes the room fills with their laughter. His omega father even cracks a rare smile when Jamie pulls him into a ridiculous reenactment. I watch from the doorway, warmth blooming in my chest at how easily he turns reserve into joy.

Next comes Adrian’s family. They burst in loudly, athletic voices carrying over each other as they debate last weekend’s football scores and challenge one another to a quick game of catch in the yard.

His omega mother hugs me fiercely, one of his alpha father’s claps me on the back with easy affection, and his siblings immediately rope Chase into a debate about the best way to throw a spiral. Adrian stands a little to the side, green eyes soft with amusement. I catch his gaze and smile because it all makes perfect sense now… why he always felt slightly out of place growing up in a family that thrives on noise and motion. He was never the loud one, but he was never less loved for it either.

Alex’s family arrives next, carrying the same natural authority that always seems to surround him. His alpha father steps through the door like he owns the room, tall and commanding with the same dark hair and assured power as his son. His omega and alpha mother’s are elegant and poised, one of them immediately pulling me into a hug that feels both graceful and sincere. They greet everyone with polished ease, but their attention keeps returning to me with clear pride and approval. His other alpha parents carry their own weight too, and it’s almost overwhelming.

Alex stays close by my side the entire time, his hand resting lightly on my lower back, and I can feel his proud satisfaction at having both sides of his world finally coming together.