HER SCENT

Killian's Pov~

The RazorStrip Mile buzzed with smoke and adrenaline. Engines roared like angry beasts, drowning out the cheers of the reckless crowd huddled in the shadows of an abandoned industrial zone. RazorStrip mile is brutal—lined with rusted fence, graffiti—tagged walls, and shattered glass. One wrong move, and you're roadkill.

Crowds gathered in tight clusters, lightning the night with flares and headlights.

Some came to race. Most came to watch the downfall. Smoke. Cheers. Money flying. The underground circuit was alive tonight—rubber burning against concrete as the crowd buzzed with anticipation.

I pulled up on shadowfang, my custom matte—black ducati panigale v4 with red accents. Crimson underglow lit the street beneath it, red rims spinning like fire. A wolf fang etched near the tank, and a nitrous boost sat hidden under the seat.

This bike was tailored for one thing— Dominance.

I climbed my bike, pulling off my helmet— the chill of the night slammed in on my face as I shook my hair. My eyes swept across the circuit. This place was like a second haven but I didn't come for fans of fame. I always came for the rush.

And tonight—- tonight. I wasn't even sure why I was here. Maybe to outrun the ache in my chest. The one I couldn't explain.

And this ache was somehow tied to the girl now staying at my place.

The moment I saw her— really saw her— something in me shifted, stirred to life inside me. Something I couldn't name.

My wolf reacted to her. Called for her. And my wolf hadn't reacted to any girl in a long time. I'd never felt that pull towards any girl— but her….. there was something different.

Maybe it was the way she stayed quiet, invisible, hiding in the shadows like she belonged there. I noticed her before. I just never let myself pay attention.

I'd seen the way she got bullied. Heard students pick on her weight, but she never fought back. She absorbed every insult, every laugh, every whisper— then shrank in the background like that was the only place she thought she belonged.

Then she was dragged onto that stage to take on the role of the female lead. A trap. A cruel joke to humiliate her further and she walked right into it.

Jake. I knew she had a crush on him. I saw the way her cheek flush whenever she ran into him. How her eyes turned dreamy. Then she confessed to him not because she wanted to— but June made her. It was all a setup.

I had told myself it wasn't my business. That she didn't matter, but watching her tremble under the stage lights like a rabbit caught in a storm— I couldn't watch anymore.

And that was when I did it. I kissed her.

I shouldn't have—- I know I shouldn't have but I did. And when our lips met, that ache exploded and my wolf reacted to her scent—- dangerously to her scent. I had to pull away before I lost control.

That scent—-again. Why does it haunt me?

‘We are drawn to her for a reason,’ my wolf growled beneath me. ‘You feel it too…..stop pretending! She's ours.’

Her lips tasted like fear. Doubt. Insecurity, trembling beneath mine.

I told myself she was trouble… and ought to stay away. But I walked into my kitchen— and there she was.

Living. In. My. House.

“How could you not inform me before hiring a cook and housekeeper for me?” I hissed into the phone. My father's voice was calm at the other end. “I told you I don't need one!”

“I told you Mr Vincent and the security men aren't enough.”

“But you couldn't have informed me….”

“You'd react the way you're reacting now, that's why I didn't.” I heard my father let out a tired sigh. Son, the house is too quiet. You need more life in it….. you'll get used to them.”

I muttered a curse as he hung up.

He didn't get it. I couldn't resist her— and now she lives under my roof. My wolf was dangerously attracted to her

Something I don't like.

“Killan!”

My name sliced through the noise.

Lyla.

She strutted toward me in tight jeans and heels too high for a place like this. Her blonde hair bounced as she tossed her hair over her shoulder and pressed up against me, shamelessly.

“Last week's race was insane,” she purred, eyes scanning me. “You ride like you were born for it— fast, reckless, dangerous. I like that in a man.” Her hand grazed my arm.

“Let's grab a bite tonight, after the race,” her lips curled into a smug smile.

“Not interested,” I started to climb off my bike. I didn't even look at her.

Her smile faltered. “Seriously?”

“Move,” I said when she blocked my path.

“Really Killian?”

I pushed past her, brushing her hand off like a lint.

Laughter from the sidelines faded into murmurs. People watching. Judging. So was he.

Draven.

Lyla's boyfriend, but she always hung around like a leash, oftentimes ignoring her boyfriend. He was a racer from the rival crew. I raced Solo, but he was really competitive. Always wanting to take me down.

His glare scorched my back as he shoved through the crowd. His eyes— sharp, jaw tightened. Fists clenched.

“You got something to say?” I asked without turning.

“Yeah. You think ignoring me makes you better? Some kind of untouchable king of the track?”

“You gotta earn my attention to be ignored,” I turned slowly, meeting his eyes. “You just confirmed it.”

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

“You son of a—-” He lunged but lyla grabbed his arm.

“Draven stop—”

He yanked free and closed the gap between us. His breaths came out hot and ragged.

“You think you're some legend, Lancaster? Let's see if you'd still be standing when I take you down. One race. You lose, you disappear from the circuit.”

He challenged.

Why are you so desperate to take me out? Do I make you feel that insecure?”

His ears turned red, his jaw clenched.

“You wish,” he spat. “One race.”

I titled my head. Calm. “And if you lose?”

Draven snarled, and responded confidently. “I won't.”

My lips curled. “You better pray you're right.”

—- Thirty minutes later—--

The lights flashed red— then green.

I launched forward. So was he.

Flares lit the air as the crowd erupted. Cheers. Screams.

I pulled my gloves tighter, eyes fixed on the road ahead. The engine's purr beneath me matched the rhythm of my pulse— steady. Ready.

My foot struck the pedal in one clean motion.

Then it hit me.

That scent. Her scent. Again.

‘Don't ignore it.’ My wolf growled deeply in my mind.

Not now. Not her. This was Razorstrip mile, not a place for distraction, not even if the distraction had soft sad eyes and a scent that crawled under my skin like wildfire.

The world narrowed to blur and speed. Lights. Asphalt. Draven was right behind me, trying to box me in, forcing me to slip.

He cut into my lane, nearly slamming me into the barricade.

Cheap move.

I swerved, regained control, and hit the nitro boost just before the final bend. My tires screeched against the ground as I flew across the finish line— half a second ahead.

The crowd erupted. My name chanted in waves. Flyers with my name and face on them flew in the air. I pulled off my helmet, and shook my hair, catching my breath.

“That was insane,” Lyla rushed to me, all giddy. Smiling. “God, where did you get your reflexes from…..your strength is unmatched.”

I didn't say a word to her, looking over to Draven who was behind me, glaring at me like he wanted to kill me. The crowd closed in on me, patting me, praising me. I started my bike and drove off, ignoring them— both Draven and his girl, ignoring his frustrated screams and curses.

I headed for the edge of the lot into the dimmed alley, toward the shadows. Then I heard footsteps. Too many of them. I turned and a fist flew across my face.

Someone tackled me to the ground, trying to pull me off my bike, but I was fast— I swerved, regaining my balance as I elbowed him off, spun and ducked a swing and cracked my knuckles against another guy's jaw. I didn't think— I moved. Like instinct.

Draven's voice cut through the chaos. “You humiliated me, you think this is over?”

A punch hit my rib. Another to my jaw.

But then— cold. Sharp. A blade.

Warm blood spread across my side. The world tilted. My vision blurred, gold flickering around the edge. My canines sharpened. Something in me snapped. My eyes burned. My fingers twitched.

And suddenly they weren't fists anymore. My claws tore through my skin. The coppery scent of blood—mine— set my wolf free. I didn't shift fully, not here, but they saw.

“What the hell—-” Someone whispered.

Then they froze— and bolted— every last one as sirens screamed in the distance. Flashing blue cut across the alley.

“Damn it, silver.” My wolf growled. I watched the blood spill, it burned like fire through me. Unnatural.

I gritted my teeth as pain seared through my side. Soaking the hem of my shirt. One hand placed on my bike handlebar and the other pressed against my side as I revved through the empty streets. I didn't stop. Couldn't.

Not until the gates of my house came into view.

I pulled up roughly in the driveway, barely managing to kill the engine before stumbling off my bike, breath ragged.

Then I froze.

There she was.

Brielle.

Her scent hit me again. Still lingering in the air— messing with my head….. and my wolf.

‘You crave her, and it's killing us both.’ My wolf whispered.

She was pacing on the front porch like she'd been waiting for me. Her breaths came in as sharp, shallow pants, one hand pressed tightly to the chest. The second her eyes met my blood-stained shirt, she froze.

Her face turned pale. “Killian?” She gasped rushing towards me. “What happened to you?”

Her hands trembled as they instinctively reached me, hesitant, unsure if she should touch me.

“Oh my God, are you okay? You're bleeding.”

I winced and pushed past her, trying— and failing— to ignore the way her scent pulled at something feral inside me. “Relax, little rabbit,” I muttered, voice rough. “I'm fine. Just a scratch.”

I didn't make it past the doorway.

My legs gave out. I collapsed on the porch as the world tilted, and darkness swallowed me whole.