Chapter 5 – The Scent That Shouldn’t Be

Ryker’s POV

I’m awake before I should be and groan out loud as my eyes flicker open. My head still spins from too much eggnog last night.

I press my hand against my head, trying to stop the feeling. I lie there for a second, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what pulled me out of a soundless sleep.

My attention immediately turns to my wolf, Duke. He’s pacing like a caged animal—worse than his usual restless self.

I drag a hand over my face, pushing myself up.

“What now?” I groan under my breath. “Why are you not asleep? It’s not even time for training.”

Duke doesn’t answer; his attention is set on something else.

My gaze travels over my room—nothing is out of place. The room’s quiet, the bed’s a mess, my boots are still by the door, and my glass of eggnog is half-finished on the dresser from last night. Nothing seems out of order.

“Seriously, mutt,” I groan. “Go back to sleep... there’s nothing—”

My voice dies in my throat the moment I catch the scent, and my nostrils flare. It would have been easy to miss if I hadn’t already been awake.

I frown, a line forming between my eyes as I draw in a deeper breath, letting the scent settle over my tongue.

I let out a slow breath as the sweet taste of berries rolls across my tongue.

The scent is fresh and rich, not the fake stuff from the kitchen stored for winter.

My body goes rigid without me telling it to, which isn’t normal at all.

I breathe in again—it’s stronger now, and it’s coming from the door.

“Mate!” Duke exclaims, making my chest tighten.

I sit up straight and shake my head.

“No way,” I say in disbelief. “That’s not how this works; we would’ve known.”

Normally we would have felt something—an indication. But the intoxicating scent doesn’t fade—it gets worse.

My mind already drifts to things only mated wolves do, and I force myself to concentrate.

I swing my legs off the bed and stand, catching myself as I sway. My skin feels too tight, like something underneath is trying to get out and urge me to follow the scent.

“She is here,” Duke says, his attention now locked with mine.

“Shut up,” I mutter, moving toward the door.

The closer I get, the stronger the scent grows, and my heart escalates in pure excitement.

I open the door, hoping to find her there, but the hallway is empty.

“Odd,” I mutter, still smelling the scent. It’s like it’s taunting me, as if it’s some sort of game of hide-and-seek.

I step into the hall, looking both ways, hoping she was just playing a fool with me.

“She didn’t come in,” Duke whimpers, clearly disappointed.

That behavior strikes me as odd, and I go quiet for a moment, wondering why she would do that.

“But she came here and then left,” I say, and for some reason, that doesn’t sit right with me.

What’s wrong with this picture? Why would she do that?

Kael’s bedroom door opens, and he steps outside, fully dressed. He’s up far too early. His gaze catches mine, and he has the same troubled frown between his eyes.

“Do you smell it?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say, my voice rough and dry. “The scent is right outside my door.”

Another door opens, and Soren steps out, running a hand through his already styled hair. He takes one breath and goes still.

“It’s here too,” he says.

I look between them—no one says it out loud—we don’t have to; we all know.

Kael nods once. “Check if it’s the same scent.”

We move as one and check my door first—the scent is strongest here. It’s thick enough that it almost feels like her hand is still on the door handle.

We move to Kael’s door—the same scent, but with a different undercurrent. Then Soren’s door, with the same result. All three of us were visited by the same she-wolf.

Could it be true? Were we sharing the same mate, or was someone playing a trick on us?

We stop in the middle of the hall, worry and confusion written on all our faces.

Duke isn’t pacing anymore; now his full focus is on my brothers.

“She came to us,” I say.

“But she didn’t enter our rooms,” Soren adds quietly.

Kael’s expression tightens. “But why would she do that?”

I shrug, having no clue.

That doesn’t make sense. We’re handsome, strong, and highly respected—very popular among the she-wolves. Some would even say we’re their dream mates.

“Find her,” Duke snarls, not wasting another minute.

Kael sees the flicker in my eyes, the same flash in his. “Track the scent,” he orders. “We need to find her and know why.”

We follow the scent down the hall—that’s easy enough. She didn’t even try to hide it.

That doesn’t sit well with me. Are we walking into a trap?

I slow down the moment I realize where the scent is leading, and the blood drains from my face.

Goddess, this can’t be—tell me someone other than Ayla is my mate.

I let out a short breath as panic fills my veins.

“No. Fucking. Way,” I mutter, now more irritated and confused than disbelieving.

Soren goes still beside me, his eyes wide in horror, and Kael stops dead, not moving a muscle.

The scent here is everywhere, still fresh and clinging to the walls. It twirls around me in intoxicating layers, taunting me to find her.

“She went to her room,” Soren states the obvious, confusion dancing in his eyes.

“Seems like it,” I mutter, pushing her bedroom door open without knocking.

Ayla isn’t inside, but the room is still warm, and her intoxicating scent lingers in the air, clinging to everything. She must have been here just moments ago.

“She ran,” Duke says, a dreadful feeling spreading in my chest.

I step inside and scan the room—nothing is out of place—her old schoolbag hangs over the chair, and her books are neatly stacked on the desk.

“Why would she come to us and then just leave?” I ask.

“Because you told her she’d be homeless today,” Soren says, anger and frustration in his voice.

I wince at his tone. “I never expected her to be my mate.”

“Our mate!” Soren corrects.

“She felt it,” Kael interrupts, distracted by her scent. “She knows we’re her mates. She ran before we could humiliate her again.”

“She’s ours,” Duke snarls in my mind, furious and impatient. “I want my mate!”

I don’t answer, but something in me shifts—this isn’t just instinct anymore; it’s personal.

“We better find her before she crosses the boundary,” Soren says. “Or else it’ll be too late.”

I nod, a spark in my eyes. “Let’s hunt...”

Kael nods once, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

Now it’s not just about the bond, but the fact that she ran.

“Yeah,” I mutter. “Let’s see how far she gets....”

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