Page 42 of Written in Scent

The phrase “our omega” hits differently when spoken out loud. Something primal and possessive stirs in my chest. I nod without thinking. Jamie does the same. Even Chase gives a reluctant dip of his chin, though his expression stays stormy.

Adrian’s shoulders relax just slightly, as though saying it aloud has lifted some of the weight he has been carrying alone.

Chase, however, can’t stay quiet. He lets out a loud, frustrated groan and drags both hands down his face.

“Yeah, well our omega made it very fucking clear she doesn’t want a pack,” he says, voice thick with bitterness. “And she definitely doesn’t want me in it. I scared the shit out of her the night I found her doing moth trapping in the woods.”

The words hang in the air. I don’t speak, letting him get it out. Chase rarely opens up like this, and when he does, it’s usually because the weight has become too heavy to carry alone.

He keeps going, eyes fixed on the floor. “I scented her out there alone at night. She had lights set up and was completely focused on her work. I went into full protector mode before I could stop myself. I growled at her. Told her she shouldn’t be out there by herself. I practically dragged her back to her dorm like some possessive asshole. She thought I hated her. She even had to stop me from stepping on a damn caterpillar, and I still acted like a brute.”

He shakes his head, jaw tight. “She was just trying to do her research, and I— I made her feel unsafe. If she never wants anything to do with me after that, I wouldn’t blame her.”

The room stays silent for a long moment. Her scent is still thick around us, sweet and lingering, but the mood has shifted. The shock has worn off, and everything feels more real.

Adrian listens without interrupting, his expression thoughtful rather than judgmental. Jamie nods slowly like he understands the instinct even if he wishes it had gone differently.

None of us speak right away. We just let it sit there, because we all know how powerful those early instincts can be when a scent match is involved.

And none of us are innocent in this either.

I have my own secret sighting I haven’t told them about yet.

But first, I need to hear the rest of what they have been keeping from me.

Chase’s confession about the woods hangs in the room like smoke. I watch him stand there, shoulders rigid, eyes fixed on the floor as though he can still see her crouched among the moth sheets, notebook in hand, completely unaware of the alpha storming toward her.

I let the silence stretch for a moment. Then I speak, voice low.

“So you met her in the woods,” I say.

Chase’s head snaps up.

I look at each of them in turn. “And the rest of you have been keeping things from me too, haven’t you?”

Jamie shifts his weight, cheeks faintly flushed. “I’ve been trying to flirt with her for weeks,” he admits under his breath. “I gave her a rose out on the quad. I carried her backpack across campus. Little things… none of it worked.”

Adrian adjusts his glasses, expression calm but eyes bright with that analytical spark I know so well. “I saw her first weeks ago too,” he says simply. “We share a Research Methods seminar. But that was it until the library today.”

I nod thoughtfully, pieces clicking into place.

And me.

I rub the back of my neck. “I saw her too,” I confess. “In one of the green areas. She was on her knees doing an insect survey, completely lost in her work. I scented her from the path and knew instantly. I didn’t speak to her. I kept it to myself because I wanted to investigate before I got anyone’s hopes up.”

The room is quiet again, but it feels different now. Lighter. Like the last secrets have finally been laid on the table.

I look at each of my packmates. “None of you are at fault for following instinct,” I say. “She is our scent match… our omega. Of course every one of us reacted. The real question is what we do now that she has made her feelings clear.”

Chase exhales like he has been holding his breath for hours. Jamie’s shoulders drop a fraction. Adrian gives a small, satisfied nod, as though the data has finally aligned.

I feel the weight of leadership land on me again, but it feels right.

We’re not giving up.

We’re just going to have to be smarter about how we show her what she’s walking away from.

Jamie shifts his weight, clearly uncomfortable in the damp jeans he has been wearing since the heat spike. He mutters something about needing to change and heads upstairs without another word. The three of us watch him go. The stairs creak under his steps, then the bedroom door clicks shut above us.