The Scent that Shouldn't be Mine

Rayvan's POV

I couldn't focus on the lecture. Alera's scent was driving me insane. Why did it feel so familiar? And why did I feel that strange jolt when she sat on my lap?

The scent reminded me of mist settling over a forest before the rain—damp earth blended with fallen leaves. There was warmth, like raw honey, but at the edges, a sharp trace of blood.

My heart beat faster. Not out of fear—this was something else. This scent wasn’t human. It was Lycan. But not Alpha, not even Beta. It was... Omega.

Yet not just any Omega scent. Omegas usually smelled soft and nurturing, like spring rivers or a warm night’s embrace. But this scent held something deeper—a fracture, a wound buried under silence. There was a sense of isolation. Like someone who had been broken but still stood tall. Was she a Rogue?

I glanced at Alera, seated beside me, eyes fixed forward, fingers twirling her pen. Did she feel it too? That invisible pull, that tightening bond I couldn't break free from.

No. No... Don’t tell me she’s my mate. The one I’ve been searching for all this time?

God, no. I don’t want a mate like Alera. This can’t be real. She just smells like a Lycan, nothing more. Nothing meaningful.

I flinched when she turned to meet my gaze. We locked eyes for a second before I quickly turned away, pretending to admire the pine forest through the window. No wonder they called Lycanridge University the most scenic in Ravenshade. Each classroom had a long row of tall windows, allowing students to enjoy the lush world outside. The air held the fragrance of Lily of the Valley, tiny white flowers that lined the grounds, mixed with the unique scent of hellebores in bloom.

"Rayvan..." Professor Michael's voice jolted me back. Right. English Composition. Today's lesson: Social Stratification and Access to Resources.

"What are you thinking about? Why are you staring out the window? Were you even listening?" His eyes narrowed. He hated when students drifted off during his lectures.

"Sorry, sir. I was just reflecting on the essay assignment. I'm observing social stratification right here on campus. This is a prestigious and expensive university, yet it accepts students from lower classes. Doesn’t that damage Lycanridge's elite image? We have students who rely solely on scholarships—waiters, shop clerks, even janitors—in a school once known as the domain of the powerful and wealthy."

I glanced at Alera. She didn’t flinch. Just looked down like she was mourning something. The poor were always a burden, living off the mercy of others.

"I think I know who you mean," Alex smirked, eyes drifting toward her.

"Exactly. Lycanridge used to be filled with elegance—students with designer perfumes and stylish clothes. Now we have ones that smell like cheap coffee and wear thrift store rags. Are we supposed to stoop down and mingle with them?" Lilian twirled her hair, voice sugary sweet but razor-sharp. I knew who she meant.

Professor Michael didn’t react. Arms crossed, he looked at each of us in turn. "Any other thoughts?"

Silence. Then, unexpectedly, the quiet girl raised her hand.

"Yes, Alera, go ahead," he nodded.

All eyes fell on her. The girl who usually blended into the background now stood in the spotlight.

"Diversity isn’t a barrier," Alera began. "Our lives aren’t equal. Somewhere out there, a child spends the day hungry, selling trash to buy food. Somewhere else, a rich girl gets everything she wants. Every morning she arrives in a luxury car, dressed impeccably, always with three friends tailing her like bodyguards. In one part of the world, someone can’t afford shoes. In another, someone has a new pair every day."

Was she targeting Lilian? I saw the girls bristle.

"These gaps exist, even if we don’t see them. Those born into privilege may never understand. We from the lower strata are taught not to speak, to stay small. We struggle for education, for a place in society, for jobs. What we have can be taken away in an instant. Because we are not seen. We're just accessories in a system built to glorify the top."

Her voice trembled with something deeper, something long buried. Was I... sympathizing? No, Rayvan. You're a Crowned Alpha. It would be humiliating if your mate were a Rogue.

"Wow, I didn’t expect that from Alera. Her public speaking's impressive," Richard whispered, clearly amazed.

I had to admit it. Alera exceeded expectations. She didn’t just speak. She spoke with substance.

"Very well said, Alera," Professor Michael nodded. "I agree. Life is more peaceful when we coexist, when we try to understand those less fortunate. Lycanridge University was built on identity, integrity, and unshakable principles. We welcome anyone seeking knowledge. Everyone deserves to be heard. Many have ears, but not all have hearts."

Some students clapped.

I sat back, conflicted. I grew up in luxury. I could've attended Valtorien Academy of Alpha Sovereigns, the school for pureblood Alphas. But I wanted something different. I wanted to mingle with humans.

Lycanridge had a secret rule: Lycans could enroll, but had to hide their identities. This university was once built by a powerful Alpha pack, but after a conflict with humans, they retreated to Moonvale. Now, humans rule Ravenshade again. But I want Lycans to return—to live freely, peacefully.

Alera's words made me wonder: is life really that harsh at the bottom?

"This will make for a powerful essay topic," Professor Michael continued. "Form groups of three. Pick your own members."

We started forming groups. My group, the P-Boys, had four members. One would have to leave. I noticed Alera glancing around. As always, no one wanted her.

"Fine, I’ll step out," Richard said. His eyes found Alera.

"She doesn’t have a group, does she? I’ll join hers."

What? Richard? With Alera?

"You’re serious? With that skinny, shabby girl from the slums?" I stared at him.

No one should group with Alera. Let her stay the lonely, invisible girl.

"She’s smart. Smarter than girls who talk makeup and shopping all day," Richard said firmly.

Lilian and her friends gasped.

"You talking about us?" Samantha snapped.

"If you feel targeted, maybe that says something," Richard shrugged.

"So you think Alera’s smarter than us?" Clara challenged.

"You don’t know us. We’re not just pretty. We’re powerful. Lycanridge bows to us. Don’t you dare look down on us," Lisa added. Among the four, she was the brightest.

"Sure. Upper-class goddesses who could tear mountains apart and drain oceans," Richard smirked. "Still choosing Alera."

Despite being the most popular girls on campus, they had no real pull on us. No aura, despite the beauty.

"And we weren’t inviting you anyway. We were defending ourselves against your insult," Lilian snapped, stepping closer. She radiated dominance.

"Thanks for choosing me, Richard," Alera's soft voice broke the tension. "We can start after class, in the back garden."

Her smile held something calm, even victorious. For some reason, I didn’t want Richard near her. He was my friend. Was he starting to care about this outcast girl?

The scent hit me again.

My blood boiled. That pull to be close, to inhale her scent, grew stronger. It wasn’t just any scent. It felt like a dream I once had—a scent that once held me.

I stepped closer. Her smile faded.

"Richard doesn’t like you. He just pities you because no one else would pair with you."

She said nothing, but her eyes stayed locked on mine. Frozen... but there was something in those eyes. Something real.