Page 23 of Written in Scent

The opportunity tingles over me like a bright spark. A real chance. Not just to go on the expedition, but to prove myself.

“I would love that,” I say, unable to keep the smile from my face. “Thank you.”

Dr. Okonkwo gives me an encouraging nod. “I look forward to reading it. Mira spoke very highly of you.”

I leave the lecture hall with my notebook clutched against my chest, the excitement blooming further with every step. The field trip is no longer just a distant hope mentioned by Dr. Halvorsen. It now has a clear path forward. A paper. A deadline. A real chance to earn my place.

Three mentors have seen something in me worth supporting. Dr. Halvorsen refused to let me dim my knowledge, Professor Jules has given me a permanent lab desk assignment and the pinning project of my dreams, and now Dr. Okonkwo has opened a door I didn’t even know how to knock on. Not for the first time since arriving at Rosewood, I feel genuinely supported in my work, not because of what I am, but because of what I can do.

I pause on the wide stone steps outside the building, the refreshing early fall air brushing against me. My mind is already turning over ideas for the paper. What draws me most to that part of the rainforest. What I hope to learn there. The words start forming even before I reach for my planner.

The memory of that golden amber scent tries to creep in one last time, but I push it away with surprising firmness. A whole week has passed. I have real goals now. Real work that matters. That one collision does not get to take up any more space in my thoughts.

I open my planner to the date two weeks from now and write a single neat note: Field Trip Paper.

The first spark of real possibility blooms acutely. This is what I came here for.

The woods off campus are empty at this hour, the kind of quiet I need after a long day in the vet labs and the animal clinic. My feet hit the familiar trail in an even rhythm, the pine needles crunching under my running shoes. The air smells like home, sharp evergreen and damp earth, and for a few minutes the weight of everything else fades.

I like it out here. No one expects conversation. No one asks how I’m holding up or how adjusting to the whole pack being on campus is. I just run and let my mind settle.

The pack has been on my mind more than usual lately, Adrian especially. He carries so much without ever complaining, but I see the way some people look at him. Too shy and thoughtful, not the picture of an alpha they expect. It makes my jaw tighten every time. He is the best of us, and I will always make sure that I remind people of that.

The trail curves deeper into the trees. The light is starting to fade, turning everything dim and shadowed. I push my pace a little harder, letting the burn in my legs clear the last of the day from my head.

Then it hits me.

A sweet peach note cuts through the pine like sunlight breaking through branches. Bright strawberry and lemon zest ride underneath it, fresh and addictive. My steps falter. My instincts snap wide awake in a way they rarely do.

An omega.

I know it with absolute certainty before I even see her.

My direction changes without conscious thought. The scent grows stronger as I move, pulling me off the main trail toward a small clearing. My pulse is already rising. An omega out here alone at night? In the woods?

Not on my watch.

I spot her in the clearing just ahead. She is setting up moth trapping equipment by herself. A UV light glows against a white sheet, bait traps placed carefully around the area. She’s completely focused on her work, adjusting something on one of the traps with delicate hands.

She is beautiful. Petite, with long strawberry blonde waves falling forward as she leans down. The focused set of her mouth and the way her sparkling blue eyes narrow in concentration hit me harder than I expect. I stop short, taken aback by how striking she is, delicate but determined at the same time.

My protective instincts flare hard. I step forward, voice low and rough.

“You should not be out here alone at night.”

She startles and turns toward me. Her eyes widen for a second before narrowing. She clearly thinks I am some kind of threat or just an asshole. I don’t blame her, my tone came out harsher than I meant it to.

She straightens up, brushing dirt from her hands. “I’m fine. I’m barely set up and I will be here for at least another hour. You can go.”

I cross my arms and stay planted where I am. “Not happening. It’s not safe.”

She stares at me for a long moment, clearly annoyed. I stare right back, refusing to budge. If she thinks I dislike her, that’s fine. Better she think that than be out here unprotected.

I am not leaving her alone.

She huffs. “Look, I appreciate the concern or whatever this is, but I have work to do. I’ll be here for a while. You can go.”

I don’t move. My jaw tightens and every protective instinct I have roars to life, louder than they have in a long time. I hate that she is out here by herself. I hate that she thinks I am the threat. But mostly I hate how badly I want to step closer and breathe her in.