Smelled Her

Lyle loved her life. She loved being in love. 

Blake, the son of Alpha Drake, had been her muse, her object of affection from ever since she could remember. She was waiting for him to ask her to be his mate for she believed that they were marked for destiny. And today he was going to pop the question. 

Lyle looked at her reflection in the mirror for the last time with a wide grin and ran fingers in her raven black hair to smoothen them a little more. She was wearing an off the shoulder slate dress, which had ruffles on the sleeves. It was short, just till her thighs and she had let her long black hair cascade down. Her gray eyes gleamed with excitement as she stifled a squeal and then dashed downstairs, taking two steps at a time. Her complexion was ruddy as she impatiently rounded the corridor and entered the kitchen. 

With a beaming face and a racing heartbeat, she twirled and asked her mother, “How do I look mom?” 

Mila turned her head over her shoulders to see her. She was preparing Lyle’s favorite, orange marmalade. “You should not hurry in such matters, Lyle,” she said in a quiet voice that quavered a little. 

Wiping a plate near the dishwasher, Jericho, her father urged, “Mila is right. Wait till you turn nineteen. Though mates are pretty rare to find in the Lore, you shouldn’t be too hasty in your decision.”

Nineteen was the age when the werewolves smelled their mates. Lyle was sure that this theory barely existed. 

Lyle was an adopted child of her parents. She was found abandoned as a small pup in a copse of trees near the perimeter of the Blood Moon pack by Mila during a night patrol. The pup was cold and shivering and had a very high fever. Mila had quickly gathered her in her arms and took the little pup to her home. Jericho, her husband welcomed little Lyle in their life and it was the best decision the childless couple had ever taken. The pack accepted Lyle as one of their own. They had tried best to find out about her family, but after an initial search, they gave up. 

Lyle came close to Blake when she was only thirteen. Seven years her senior, Blake was as handsome and caring as one could be. He swept her off her feet. Despite her parents’ cautioning her every now and then to put a break to this roller coaster ride, she didn’t stop… couldn’t… 

Her wolf Grisha—she had started liking him because she wanted Lyle to be happy.  

“Mom!” Lyle rolled her eyes. She had had this conversation with them so many times that she was bored and even wondered whether her parents wanted her happiness or not. “We have already talked about it mom,” she said, picking up a tomato and basil bruschetta from the table. “We both are made for each other, and tonight he is going to propose to me!” 

Jericho looked at Mila whose expressions had stiffened. She had stopped stirring the marmalade. 

“Blake is the son of the Alpha. He comes with his burden of duties,” said Jericho. “You should reconsider it, Lyle. You are just eighteen and too young. You have so much to look forward to other than getting tied in matrimony. Becoming a Luna of the pack is heavy-duty! In a month’s time you are going to turn nineteen. Maybe you should wait. Who knows, you may smell your mate? Delay this.” 

The car honked loudly on the outside. 

“Please Dad!” Lyle snapped rudely. “I really don’t want to get into this conversation with you again and again. Mates don’t exist! Period. And if they do, it is rare. R.A.R.E.” She got impatient. “I don’t want to spoil my present for the future. I don’t even know it exists!” 

Jericho jerked his head back at her insolence. There was a pained expression on his face.

Realizing that she had been harsh, she swallowed the bruschetta and ambled to him. Lyle wrapped her hands around his chest and drawled, “I know what I am doing. I love him a lot, like a lot. Please Dad, trust me.” She pressed her head on her father’s broad chest and inhaled his musky scent. When he didn’t say anything, she craned up her neck and gave him that puppy look with her blue eyes. 

Jericho shook his head as he melted immediately. He pecked a kiss on her forehead and chided her, “You are impossible, Lyle. Now go. Blake is waiting.” 

Lyle chuckled. She rushed over to her mother, gave her a rushed kiss on her cheek and then darted out saying, “Keep that marmalade for me!”

As soon as Lyle opened the door of the car, Blake shouted over the blaring music, “Do you know what time is it? It is 8PM. Why are you so tardy? And I hoped you had worn something pink or red!” With straight blonde hair that fell to his shoulders, Blake was wearing a shirt that matched his hazel eyes. 

She couldn’t believe how much she had fallen for this Adonis. He had helped her when she had shifted for the first time into her wolf form. He had guided her so well. Lyle was ready to take the big leap for him despite her parents’ objections. 

Lyle grinned sheepishly. The man was always complaining about her choices in general. Opening the door of his Porsche sports car, she slid into the passenger seat and pecked him on his cheek. Even before she was able to tie her seatbelt, Blake revved up the engine and sped. She laughed. “Are you in such a hurry?” She asked, looking at him affectionately. She knew he was going to propose to her, but didn’t know where he was taking her for the ‘life changing’ event of her existence. 

She thought he was going to take her to a secluded spot, but he stopped the car near the creek that meandered its way in the north of their pack’s territory. There was a party going on over there. Her ears were hurting after the blaring music in his car and here… she was exposed to more of it. The young pups often came to this ‘creek-freak’ party after a day of practicing sessions at the pack house. 

Blake jumped out of the car and without waiting for her he jogged to join his group of friends. She looked at the sand, sighed, and bent down to unstrap her two-inch high heels. She walked carefully in the sand until she reached him. 

Though Blake had demanded it from her earlier, she wanted to give her virginity to Blake on their special night and this was her special night. Lyle was ready for him. 

“You look pretty!” Graham complimented Lyle. 

She blushed. 

Blake took her hands in his and said, “Come, let’s dance.” 

And Lyle danced. She flowed in dance with him, as if his was the only body she knew. She faded into his scent as she placed her head on his chest. When she closed her eyes and the background disappeared. “I love you Blake,” she murmured. “I have loved you ever since I have known you.”

His hands went to her thigh and slid in her dress. “I know baby,” he whispered. His hands roamed up to her neck. He raked his fingers through her hair, grabbed it and yanked her head behind to kiss her on the lips. She closed her eyes. “I want you to take me today,” she murmured sweetly, coyly.

As she murmured those sweet nothings, she felt that his hand stopped and she sensed that his body stiffened. 

She opened her eyes to see why he stopped. But Blake wasn’t looking at her. He was looking beyond the creek, on the other side, towards the thick woods. 

“I can smell her,” he whispered. “Can you?” His grasp on her became loose.

Lyle’s mouth became dry. “Blake? Smell who? What are you talking about?” she asked, hoping against hope that what she thought was not the truth. Her heart plummeted to her stomach. When he didn’t seem to hear her, she cupped his cheeks and called him again. “Blake?” 

His attention was… elsewhere.