Page 40 of Written in Scent

Elodie stops a few feet in front of them, hands clasped tightly in front of her. Her cheeks are still pink, her hair a little messy from my bed, but her voice is even.

“I am so sorry,” she says, looking from Alex to Adrian to Chase. “For everything. For the mess I caused and for… for all of this. Thank you for helping me. Really, I appreciate it more than I can say.”

The guys just stare at her. Alex looks like someone just told him the sky is green. Adrian’s glasses slip down his nose a fraction. Chase’s mouth actually opens and closes without making a sound.

Elodie shifts her weight, clearly uncomfortable with the silence. “Um… could I use your bathroom to clean up before I go?”

Alex recovers first. He clears his throat and points down the hallway. “Second door on the left. Take as long as you need.”

She gives them all one last awkward little nod and slips past us. The second the bathroom door clicks shut behind her, every head in the room snaps toward me.

Alex, Adrian, and Chase are all staring at my jeans. Then, almost comically, they all look away at the exact same time, suddenly very interested in the ceiling, the floor, the window, anywhere but the very obvious wet patch on my lap.

“So,” Alex says, voice carefully neutral. “What happened up there?”

I run a hand through my hair and let out a long breath. “She came back to herself right after. The spike broke. She was… incredible. Sweet and shy and so responsive it nearly killed me. I didn’t knot her, I didn’t think it was appropriate. But she came so hard she soaked my face, and I came in my jeans just from that. Best thing I have ever felt in my life.”

Adrian adjusts his glasses, eyes thoughtful. “Having a pack would not take anything away from her studies. If anything it would give her more support. More time. More safety.”

Chase pushes off the wall, arms crossed tight over his chest. “I would take such good care of her. She would have more free time than she knew what to do with. She would never have to worry about anything again.”

Alex is quiet for a second, then he looks at all of us with that calm, steady apex gaze. “She didn’t grow up with a pack. She doesn’t understand what it can mean for an omega. The safety, the support, the way we could lift her up instead of holding her back. We’re going to have to show her.”

I nod, still tasting her on my tongue, still feeling the ghost of her fingers in my hair.

“Yeah,” I say. “We are.”

The bathroom door opens down the hall before any of us can say more. Elodie steps out looking a little more put together, but her eyes are guarded again. She’s already pulling away.

I feel the shift in the room like a door closing.

This conversation is not over. Not by a long shot.

But for right now, all I can do is watch her walk back into the living room and wonder how the hell we are supposed to let her leave.

She spots her bag on the floor near the couch and walks straight to it. She crouches, opens it, and checks inside like she needs to make sure the whole world has not fallen apart while she was upstairs.

“Thank you,” she says, glancing up at me. “For grabbing my bag and my things from the library desk. I really appreciate it.”

I nod, not trusting my voice yet. She pulls her phone out and starts typing, thumbs moving fast across the screen like she is already putting distance between us.

“Do you know where my cardigan is?” She asks, a shiver running through her.

“On it.” Adrian darts out the front door in a blur.

The three of us just stand there watching her, completely thrown. We’re used to omegas leaning in, flirting, asking for more. Not this. Not polite thank yous and quiet exits and phone screens.

Alex clears his throat and steps forward. He holds out his hand formally, the way only an apex can manage even when his scent is still thick with restraint.

“Alexander Whitmore,” he says in a practiced, rich cadence. “It’s very nice to officially meet you, Elodie.”

She looks up, surprised, then slips her smaller hand into his. A tiny, awkward giggle escapes her. “We’re all aware that I’m Elodie now, huh?”

The sound of it hits me right in the chest.

Adrian comes back through the front door at that exact moment, breathing a little hard, holding her cream cardigan like it’s something precious. He hands it to her shyly.

“Here,” he says, pushing his glasses up his nose. “In case you didn’t catch it earlier in the library… my name is Adrian Sinclair.”