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Chapter five - The scent of fate.
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2026-01-13 08:39:15The ballroom was suffocating.
Not from heat or bodies or even nerves — but from the weight in my chest. The pressure building. I’d barely walked in when I felt it. A shift. Something wrong and right at the same time. The anxiety was clawing at my chest. My mate was here somewhere and I wasn't ready for rejection. No matter how Tessa and Naomi comforted and tried convincing me that my fated man wouldn't reject me, the thought of rejection still claws at me. Just the thought of it has my wolf whimpering. Tessa and Naomi peeled off to greet a group of richly dressed elders, laughing and tossing me a wink as I wandered toward the far side of the hall. That’s when it hit me. The scent. Three of them. Layered. Intoxicating. One was dark spice and pinewood — sharp and commanding. Another was cinnamon and wildfire — quiet untamed. The third? Cool rain and smoke — reckless but intense. They wrapped around me like invisible threads, pulling. Whispering. I closed my eyes as sighed in pleasure, my stomach coiling in heat at the intoxicating scent. I didn’t know what I was doing. My legs moved before my brain caught up. I went up the flight of stairs, slipped past the marble pillars, deeper into the hall, where three closed doors stood lined side by side — identical, heavy oak, gilded with the family crest. And the scent… it was strongest here. My eyes fluttered shut and I took a big whiff, sighing in pleasure. I bit on my lower lip to prevent a moan from just the scent. And then it hit me. My eyes snapped open. My heart thudded so loud, I swore it echoed off the walls. No. No, this couldn’t be… Three doors. Three scents. My knees buckled. “Fated mates…” I whispered. No. Not them. Not them. I spun around, ready to run — again — because that’s all I seemed capable of lately. But the middle door swung open and I stopped dead in my tracks. Maddox. His hair was slightly tousled, jaw sharp, tie undone like he’d just stripped off his ceremonial jacket. His eyes locked on mine. Wide. Shocked. Glowing faintly gold. He froze. And then he inhaled the air, stepping closer to me and I backed away. His nostrils flared. His lips parted. "Mate." “Vanilla…” he murmured under his breath. “And forest rain.” His gaze turned molten. Wild. He took another step. I backed up again, ready to bolt— but not before the other two doors flew open Jaxon and Kyren. All three now stood in the corridor, staring at me like I was oxygen after suffocating. Three matching pairs of stunned eyes. Three powerful auras pressing in. My breath hitched. The air thickened. “No,” I whispered. “No, no, no—” But deep down, my wolf — the new, raw, instinctive part of me — was already howling. They were mine. And I was theirs. Whether I liked it or not. I was going to get my heart and my soul broken and I wasn't ready yet.
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Her Alphas. Chapter nineteen
Third person's pov... Jackson’s room was unusually quiet. The lights were low, the window cracked open to let in cool night air. Kyren lounged on the edge of the bed, boots kicked off, idly spinning a pen between his fingers. Maddox stood near the wall, arms crossed, jaw tight like he’d been clenching it for hours. “She wore the necklace,” Kyren said lightly, breaking the silence. “Did you see?” Maddox didn’t answer right away. Jackson sat at his desk, staring at nothing in particular. “I noticed.” Kyren grinned. “I knew she would. I told you, bro. She doesn’t just toss things aside.” Maddox finally spoke, voice unusually soft. “That doesn’t mean anything.” “It means something,” Kyren shot back. “She didn’t have to but she did meaning you earned some serious brownie points.” Jackson exhaled slowly. “This isn’t about winning brownie points.” Kyren rolled his eyes. “Everything with you is about not crossing lines.” “And everything with you is about pretending lines don’t exis
Her Alphas. Chapter eighteen - All three of them.
I woke up later than usual.Sunlight filtered through the thin curtains, warming the foot of my bed. For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the quiet hum of the cottage. No strange pulls. No lingering fear. Just the ordinary sounds of morning—birds outside, the faint clink of glass from the kitchen.Normal.I sat up slowly and reached for the necklace without thinking. The diamond pendant rested cool against my fingers. Mundane. Solid. Heavy in a way that had nothing to do with magic.I didn’t know why I didn't take it off before sleeping.On my wrist, Jackson’s bracelet caught the light. It looked the same as always—plain, unobtrusive.I exhaled and stood.---My aunt was already awake when I entered the kitchen, sitting at the table with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a book she wasn’t really reading.“You woke up late,” she said mildly.“Rough night,” I replied, grabbing a kettle.She glanced at my necklace, then my bracelet, and hummed, a
Her Alphas. Chapter seventeen
I was halfway through folding laundry when I heard the soft knock. Not on the door. On my window. I froze, shirt clenched in my hands. There it was again. A light tap. Familiar. I crossed the room and pushed the curtain aside. Kyren was crouched on the sill, grinning like he’d just won something illegal. “You know,” I whispered as I slid the window open, “normal people use doors.” “Normal people don’t get asked for space by someone they really like,” he said cheerfully, slipping inside. “Also, your aunt kinda scares me.” I snorted “Fair enough.” He closed the window quietly behind him and turned to face me. His smile softened when he really looked at me. “You okay?” he asked. “I am,” I said. “I asked for space, though. You promised.” I reminded him. “I did,” he agreed easily. “I’m very bad at keeping that promise but I can keep any other promises. God, I sound like Maddox.” I huffed out a laugh despite myself. “Kyren—” “I missed you,” he said simply. That made my heart
Her Alphas. Chapter seventeen
I was halfway through folding laundry when I heard the soft knock. Not on the door. On my window. I froze, shirt clenched in my hands. There it was again. A light tap. Familiar. I crossed the room and pushed the curtain aside. Kyren was crouched on the sill, grinning like he’d just won something illegal. “You know,” I whispered as I slid the window open, “normal people use doors.” “Normal people don’t get asked for space by someone they really like,” he said cheerfully, slipping inside. “Also, your aunt kinda scares me.” I snorted “Fair enough.” He closed the window quietly behind him and turned to face me. His smile softened when he really looked at me. “You okay?” he asked. “I am,” I said. “I asked for space, though. You promised.” I reminded him. “I did,” he agreed easily. “I’m very bad at keeping that promise but I can keep any other promises. God, I sound like Maddox.” I huffed out a laugh despite myself. “Kyren—” “I missed you,” he said simply. That made my heart
Her Alphas. Chapter seventeen
I was halfway through folding laundry when I heard the soft knock. Not on the door. On my window. I froze, shirt clenched in my hands. There it was again. A light tap. Familiar. I crossed the room and pushed the curtain aside. Kyren was crouched on the sill, grinning like he’d just won something illegal. “You know,” I whispered as I slid the window open, “normal people use doors.” “Normal people don’t get asked for space by someone they really like,” he said cheerfully, slipping inside. “Also, your aunt kinda scares me.” I snorted “Fair enough.” He closed the window quietly behind him and turned to face me. His smile softened when he really looked at me. “You okay?” he asked. “I am,” I said. “I asked for space, though. You promised.” I reminded him. “I did,” he agreed easily. “I’m very bad at keeping that promise but I can keep any other promises. God, I sound like Maddox.” I huffed out a laugh despite myself. “Kyren—” “I missed you,” he said simply. That made my heart
Her Alphas. Chapter Sixteen -
The cottage was quiet except for the fire crackling low in the hearth. I sat on the stool beside the bed, counting under my breath as I tilted the vial. My aunt lay propped against pillows, eyes closed, breathing shallow but steady. “Five,” I murmured. “Six. Seven.” I stopped. My aunt smiled faintly. “You always stop at seven when you’re nervous.” I mixed the drops into warm water and lifted the cup carefully. “Drink.” She obeyed, grimacing at the bitterness. “Still awful,” she muttered. “You say that every time.” “And you still make it.” “You need it,” I countered and she just waved me off. I set the cup aside and wiped my hands. The movements were automatic. I had learned them years ago—how to measure, how to watch pupils and breathing, how to notice what others missed. Healing wasn’t magic the way stories made it sound. It was patience. Focus. Care. “You came back late,” Aunt said. I nodded, not wanting to dive into the whole forest fiasco plus, I had been with Tessa an
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