Novel & Cerita The Scent That Made Him Mine

His eyes darkened almost immediately at the words, something feral flickering inside them. He shifted closer, finally closing the distance between us and caging me with his body. I turned my face away, trembling, just as I felt the traitorous heat pooling low in my belly. His scent wrapped around me—cinnamon, expensive, and mixed with smoke. It curled deep into me, and no matter how I tried to resist, I couldn't help but inhale it sharply. “Please,” I whispered. “I just want to forget. I beg you in the name of the goddess, don’t remind me…”

The scent was heavenly, and this surely, has to be from the moon goddess, and I guessed that this was the sign that I had found my mate. I looked around, to see and I was surprised that the scent was coming from Menelik. I stylishly moved closer to him, and the concentration of the heavenly-like scent only multiplied, confirming the crux that Menelik was my mate. I instantly backed off, terrified that the moon goddess has cursed me, by mating me with Menelik, but before I knew it, Menelik stood up, held my hand, and sniffed me up from my neck. My heart was beating very fast, and panic was slowly settling in.

His massive chest pressed directly into my back, pinning me against the door, and his voice brushed the shell of my ear, low, certain, and devastating: "You smell like mine." Every muscle in my body locked. It didn't sound like a line; it sounded like biology. It was like an Alpha's instinct naming what it had already decided, with the absolute conviction of something that had always been true. I stood there while that landed, the metal keys biting deep into my palm, while his scent moved through me and found every place I had sealed shut. I turned around within his hold, the wood of the door scraping my jacket as he hovered inches away, the hunger and the war both visible in his face, and h

He smelt good before but I noticed now he had been tainted by Jacob's perfume. 'He should be wearing our scent!' Scar, my wolf was not buying it either. That had been a total turn off for men and I decided to let him go but not without giving him a better scent. My scent.

“You’re mine.” His voice echoes through my memory of our one passion-filled night, just as it has haunted me since then. “Moon mates, chosen by the Goddess herself...” I close my eyes as I remember his masculine scent- cashmere... “Call me Soren...” His flaming hands that left a trail of fire. A broad smile spreads across my face, my heart full of purpose, giddy even when I think of breaking the news to him of our baby. The scent of him clouded my mind- so intoxicating.

I grinned. He stared at me for a moment, a weird glint flashed in his eyes as a crafty smile came to his lips. "Ah, lest I forget." He leaned in, and his hand came over my shirt collar, adjusting it. "Since you don't trust me, I'll just have to earn your trust so know the feeling is reciprocated." He leaned in, not too close to invading my personal space but close enough for his scent to invade my whole entity. His scent was exclusive. It was so nice that I couldn't pinpoint the exact one because of the perfume he wore but one was prominent –the scent of olive. It was so overpowering.

The company also needs my presence, especially after finding out that there might be another mole working for Kex. I bent slightly, scooping her sleeping form into my arms with care, letting her head nestled into my chest as her sweet, sugary, intoxicating scent of fresh Jasmine and wild honey laced with burnt vanilla wrapped around me like a balm to my troubled soul... It was sweet enough to rot my teeth and warm enough to burn. It was the kind of scent that made a male's restraint unravel, thread by thread. Her scent was designed to destroy my self-control. I kicked the bedroom door shut with my foot, laying her gently on my bed.

His hands suddenly come into view as he reaches for mine. I instinctively pull back. “What—” “Don’t pull away from me,” he orders, his golden eyes darkening. “Let me see.” This time his voice is softer. He steps closer. If it were anyone else, I would move away—but my feet feel rooted to the ground. I take a breath, and all I can smell is him. His scent is better than the smell after a thunderstorm… better than the scent of a fresh forest… better than a field full of blooming flowers.

that familiar scent seducing and assaulting my nostril. The scent of pinewood, smoke. That deep, familiar trace of aggression that always sat under his skin like a warning label no one ever bothered reading until it was too late. And underneath it…me. My own scent traces of jasmine and cedar wood tangled with his except it wasn’t just under his skin. It was everywhere,my own scent acting like a claim on him one he wore proudly like a badge like it had been pulled into his bloodstream and refused to leave. Like it didn’t belong separated anymore.

Our strides fell into rhythm without effort, instincts aligning in a way that sent a strange ache through my chest. His wolf brushed against mine mentally. It was curious, warm and familiar. Mate, his wolf murmured. Mine responded with a low hum that felt like acknowledgment. We found the first trail near a dry riverbed. My nose catches a rotting scent as if something died. And someone tried to cover it up with a bottle of perfume. “What is that horrible smell?" I asked as we stopped to shift back into our human self. “Rogue scent. That was the terrible job of a sloppy rogue. He must have been impatient to go out.