An Unmistakable Scent
Mona
The storm assaults the attic roof ferociously, the sound deafening. I close my eyes and listen to the relentless howling, the pounding rain accented by booming claps of thunder. An ear-splitting crack sounds as flashing light pierces through the small windows. Not even werewolves will go out in this—it’s too dangerous. Perhaps I should go back down.
In less than one hour it will be my 18th birthday. If I’m “lucky” I’ll find my fated mate and my life will become absolutely perfect. As if my parents hadn’t been brutally murdered before my eyes. As if I hadn’t been forced to leave the only home I’d ever known. As if my siblings hadn’t been taken away from me. As if my parents’ murderer weren’t my captor.
Best case scenario, I’d mate with a wolf visiting from another pack and finally escape this place. Escape him. Worst case? The Moon Goddess takes a look at my already miserable life and says, “Hold my beer.” I sure hope this storm isn’t some kind of omen.
Another clap of thunder and bolt of lightning jolt me out of my brooding state. I should definitely go down. I get up off of the old dusty sofa I was busy moping on. Usually this attic is my place of refuge…where I can go to get away from the giant shit-show of the pack-house. But clearly not tonight.
I open the attic door and enter the dimly lit hallway. It’s completely empty and I don’t hear any footsteps from below. Usually nobody is up and about at this hour—it’s the pack-house rules. But I tread down the hall soundlessly in my socked feet, just in case.
My door is at the other end of the hallway, my bedroom adjacent to his living quarters. Because rooming with the rest of the omegas was just too far away for him to control my every waking moment. I creep carefully past his door. I can see light poking through underneath so I know he’s still awake, like always. Apparently High Alphas don’t need to sleep…lucky me.
The thunder is more muted down here and it doesn’t conceal the sudden creak from a floorboard beneath my feet. Uh-oh. I start for my room, but the Alpha’s door swings open behind me, the Alpha growling lowly.
“Ramona,” he says coolly. “What are you doing out of bed? You know the rules.”
I hate it when he calls me that. I sigh and turn around to face him. “I’m sorry, Alpha. I was up in the attic earlier and fell asleep. The storm woke me up, so I was just coming down to my room,” I explain.
His steel-grey eyes glare at me unblinkingly. “Fine,” he says abruptly. “But do not leave your room until morning.” As the alpha closes his door behind him, a wave of his scent reaches me—snow, embers, and vanilla. I've always found it strangely comforting, though he's the last wolf I ever want to be around. But something seems different tonight…an additional hint of musk or something. Maybe he forgot to take a shower. Gross.
I hurry to my bedroom and lock myself inside. I’ve never fully trusted the other wolves around here. I quickly change into my oversized pajamas and hop into my plush, cozy bed. At least it’s quieter now and I can sleep. I really should sleep, but I won’t—I’m too excited planning my escape.
And then it hits me again, but this time with the subtlety of an ice bucket challenge. A familiar scent. My body suddenly sears so hot it freezes, my skin crawling like something is trying to claw its way out. An ache blooms low in my abdomen and works its way down to my core. Mate.
Oh no, no, no, no, no…FUCK…MY…LIFE!
**************************************
Alpha Derek
The wind slams against my windows again, the splattering rain sounding like machine gun rounds. How in the hell could anyone possibly sleep through this? Never mind the fact I haven’t truly slept in years. Not since my mate died. Not even since I avenged her death.
I can’t really blame the girl. I know why she goes up there, it’s her hideaway from all of…this. And now her life is about to change—again—and all because of me. She didn’t ask for this…not any of it. Neither did her brother or sister. And once she realizes the full truth, she’ll hate me even more. But I deserve it.
I sink back down into my black leather sofa and knock back the rest of the Kentucky bourbon I poured myself earlier. It will happen any minute now. And when it does we’ll both need the rest of that bottle. I pour another shot and swirl the glass without drinking it, thinking back to when I decided to take away everything she’d ever known. If only I had known about her and her siblings sooner. I’d have done everything differently…or at least I would have tried to.
I look down at the document staring back at me from my desk, the gravity of it rooting me to my chair. A traitor and a murderer. A grossly misguided pack. Arrest, execution, and subjugation. Effective immediately. If I sign this, there is no going back. But I don’t really have a choice, do I? I must carry out the will of the Elders.
“Ozzie, does the Rogue River Alpha have any lineage? Any pups?”
“Not that we are aware of Alpha. Rogue River has never been great at keeping records since they’re always on the move. If Alpha Bram has any family, only his pack members would know.”
“And the informant? Can we ask him?”
“No, Alpha. Comms went dark once we initiated the operation.”
“I guess that’s a risk we’ll just have to accept then,” I mutter. I pour some liquid courage and swallow it down, grab my pen and sign the order before I talk myself out of it. I stand and face my Beta.
“Prepare the squadrons. Kill any wolf that interferes, but take as many pack members alive as possible. Avoid harming any she-wolves or pups at all costs.”
“Yes, Alpha Derek.”
I’m jerked to attention by an unmistakable scent—like the forest after rainfall and fragrant wildflowers blooming along the swollen riverbank. A scent I could never resist, even if I wanted to. And I don’t. I have lost enough that I would never squander this second chance, regardless of my past mistakes.
She must also feel it by now. This undeniable pull between us—this aching need to have her near me and keep her safe. To care for her. To love her. To fight for her…earn her forgiveness. Mate.
It’s a few hours until dawn…I stay seated, staring at my untouched glass of bourbon. It’s everything I can do to not march over to her room and rip her bedroom door off its hinges. I know she locks it every night. Probably for the best, especially now. She’ll need this time to come to terms with this.
She will come to me when she’s ready. At least this is what I tell myself to keep my wolf at bay.
