Page 117 of Written in Scent

My pen still hovers, heart racing with that familiar academic thrill.

The mating marks on my neck tingle faintly whenever my thoughts drift to my alphas. They’ve settled into faint silvery scars that tingle under my fingertips, a constant reminder of the bonds we share. My own scent has changed too, brighter and more confident now, no longer hiding behind blockers but blooming freely in the jungle heat.

Academically, I am thriving. The professional team here treats me as a colleague, not a freshman. I’ve already contributed to two papers and lost entire afternoons in pure wonder. Yet the omega part of me aches in the quiet hours.

The rainforest nights feel too vast, too empty without four familiar heartbeats and the layered comfort of their scents. I miss Jamie’s bright laughter cutting through the dark, Adrian’s calm explanations when I ramble about pheromone trails, Chase’s protective arms wrapping around me like a living shield, and Alex’s steady presence that makes every place feel like home.

I glance at my watch and my pulse jumps. Their plane landed a few hours ago. Soon the jungle will no longer feel quite so lonely.

I stand on the wooden walkway outside the research station, heart hammering louder than the distant calls of howler monkeys. The air is thick with humidity and the sharp green scent of wet leaves, but then their scents cut through it like a blade of cool wind.

Dark cedarwood and heat warmed skin.

Golden amber and warm vanilla.

Rain on stone and crisp paper and ink.

Pine forest and clean musk.

They hit me all at once across the humid distance, and my knees nearly buckle with relief. I see them before they see me. Four familiar silhouettes stepping out of the jeep, backpacks slung over shoulders, eyes scanning until they find me.

Alex reaches me first. He lifts me clean off the ground in one effortless motion, strong arms banding around my waist as he buries his face against my neck. “There you are,” he murmurs, voice rough with the same ache I have carried for three days. I wrap my legs around his hips and cling, breathing him in like oxygen.

Jamie is next, laughing bright and delighted as he pries me from Alex just enough to spin me in a dizzy circle. “Missed you, Elodie,” he says, pressing a loud, playful kiss to my cheek before setting me down. His hands move to my neck, thumb brushing the mating mark on the right side of my throat.

Adrian steps close behind him, green eyes focused on me. He cups my face with both hands and kisses me like he has been counting every single second we were apart… deep and achingly tender. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against mine. “You smell like the jungle,” he whispers. “And like home.”

Chase is last. He simply opens his arms, and I step straight into them. His massive frame wraps around me completely, one big hand cradling the back of my head, the other splayed protectively across my lower back. I feel tiny and safe against his chest, his pine and musk scent enveloping me until the ache in my omega heart finally eases. “We’re here now,” he rumbles against my hair. “Not going anywhere.”

I pull back just enough to look at all four of them, words tumbling out before I can stop them.

“You will not believe what I found this morning—a longhorn beetle, iridescent green, the most perfect specimen I have ever seen. And the canopy at sunrise looks like liquid gold pouring through the leaves. I wrote a poem about pheromone trails last night under the netting, about how they lead exactly where they are meant to go, just like—” I cut myself off, laughing at how fast I am talking.

They listen with the same proud, interested smiles they always give me when I ramble about bugs or poetry or anything at all. Alex’s hand sits on my lower back. Jamie’s thumb traces lazy circles over my mating mark. Adrian’s eyes shine with fascination. Chase’s arm remains a steady anchor around my waist.

In that moment, surrounded by them in the middle of the jungle, I remember again that they love every part of me. The academic who geeks out over beetles, the poet who scribbles in margins, the omega who needs them close. They’ve crossed half a continent just to be here with me, and they look at me like I’m the most brilliant thing in the entire rainforest.

I reach up and touch each of their faces in turn, heart so full it hurts.

“You’re really here,” I whisper.

Jamie grins. “Told you we wouldn’t miss it.”

The late afternoon sun filters through the canopy in golden shafts as I lead my pack along the narrow research trail behind the station. The air is thick with humidity and the earthy sweetness of decaying leaves, but I barely notice. I am in full academic mode, the way I used to hide even from myself.

“Look at this one,” I say, crouching beside a fallen log and gently turning over a piece of bark. An iridescent butterfly catches the light, its wing shifting from emerald to sapphire. “Morpho didius. See how the structural color works? No pigment at all, just layers of chitin reflecting light like tiny prisms.”

Jamie walks backward in front of me, camera raised, filming every word with that bright, delighted grin. “Keep going, Elodie. This is pure gold. Your dad is going to lose his mind when I edit this.”

Adrian falls into step beside me, green eyes sparkling behind his glasses. “The way the light scatters, does that affect the pheromone signaling range?” he asks, genuinely curious.

The question makes something bright bloom in my chest. I light up instantly, launching into an explanation of chemical ecology and how certain species use both visual and scent cues in tandem. He listens like every word I say is the most fascinating thing he’s ever heard.

Chase walks just behind us, carrying my heavy equipment bag over one broad shoulder without a single complaint, his free hand occasionally brushing the small of my back. Alex stays close on my other side, watching me with a look that makes my knees feel shaky. Like I am the most brilliant, precious thing in the entire jungle.

Every few steps one of them reaches out, fingers brushing the mating marks on my neck. Jamie’s thumb grazes the right side. Adrian’s knuckles skim the back near my shoulder. Chase’s big hand cups the higher mark near my jaw for a heartbeat. Alex’s palm rests against the left side of my throat. Each touch sends a flare of warmth through the pack link, a gentle pulse of love and pride that settles deep in my bones.

I am completely seen. The obsessive entomologist who geeks out over beetles. The secret poet who recites lines about firefly signaling under her breath. The omega who needs her pack close. They love every single part of me exactly as I am.