The Tyrant's Only Perfumer Novels & Stories

The beautiful woman was about to protest when an elderly man in a dark suit emerged from the back room, his gaze carrying a touch of admiration as it fell upon me. "Mr. Bardier!" The beautiful woman gasped in surprise, her expression revealing that the man before her was none other than the recently acclaimed perfume master and the boutique's owner. "Madam, perhaps 'Fantasy' would better suit your taste," Bardier suggested, producing a bottle of purple perfume from the nearby display cabinet. It featured numerous tiny sequins at its core, glistening and captivating under the light. "Oh, thank you. I adore this scent," the noblewoman exclaimed as she lifted the perfume and took a gentle sniff

But instead of being affected by the foul stench of it that was supposed to be the side effect of the pheromone perfume intended to attract women, Sir Tremblay seems to be not affected at all since he was not scrunching or covering up his nose. No matter, he reminded himself of his task as of the moment. He did not care to retrieve the photographs that he was holding a while ago. He did not care about the students who were lying across the floor, experiencing different things because of his pheromone perfume; he did not care at all, all he wanted was to get out of this building to get out of this school and to disappear. Now that they know what he really is, he must hide or else he might suf

You know saying the vows and shit, I didn't want to get irritated or annoyed. ‘You are doing well, Alex,’ Tyrant encouraged me. I had only taken the liquor halfway when the front door opened. Her scent spread all over the room, invading my nostrils. It was so good, that Tyrant came forward hungrily. He wanted her. We wanted her. Why did she smell so good today? Was it my senses playing tricks on me? “Don’t go,” she said. Her voice was on the verge of breaking. She sounded desperate. She wanted me to stay with her.

So, upon hearing this, Tyr’s eyes glistened and saw his chance finally! Zane saw the subtle excitement from the unexpected agreement and watched Tyr as he closes the space between their faces. The latter stared straight at Zane’s eyes, genuinely admiring it but his eyes travelled down his classmate’s plump lips. It’s very tempting and Tyr somehow had to fight the urge to brush them against his lips. The close proximity made Zane’s chest pound. The presence of Tyr is always overwhelming him regardless of the scent and situation, and that sometimes confused him because no one has been this intimidating and overpowering. So, feeling the warm breath touching his face made him unintentionally rel

the tall, hot, and handsome man asked in a seductively low voice. "Why do you want to know, handsome?" I asked matching his tone. "So, I can fuck you in more than seven different ways and scream your name out." he replied, " And, besides in order to ask for permission it is necessary to know the name of the person first." "Well, in that case, you should tell me your name too so I know whose name I have to scream while I come." I played along with him while pulling him closer to me by his collar and grind my front of him like a dance step " And, how sure are you that I am going to tell me your name, handsome?"

Torin opened his mouth, looking like a fish gasping for air, but no sound came out. "As if you could afford a glass of water in this place," Twyla sneered, stepping closer. Her perfume was cloying and cheap. "Everyone knows you’re obsessed with him. You’re just a desperate slut trying to find a way back into his bed." Torin stood there like a statue. He didn't defend me. He didn't tell her to stop. He just watched, his eyes roaming over my body with a hunger that made my skin crawl. Inside me, my wolf, Tyra, paced with bared teeth. She was done being silent.

He wasn’t what I had expected from a rogue mercenary. For starters, unlike his three associates, he didn’t carry that rancid stench I had come to associate with rogues. I’d noticed it when we’d shared a horse yesterday. Tyler smelled slightly metallic, like wet iron after rain, but beneath that was something richer and warmer, a fragrant spice I had encountered once before but could never quite place. My gaze drifted to the trousers he’d left folded neatly beside me. I glanced furtively at Valeria. She hadn’t moved.

"The opening doesn't start until 9pm see you then man, don't disappoint me" He cut the call and didn't even wait for my reply The night of the party I was dressed in a tuxedo Armani suit paired with Christian Dior shoes, my driver drove me to the club, the name was 'Desiree' Such a weird be. Why would he choose this name of all things he could think of . Dré could be weird sometimes "Drop me off here Enzo" I told my driver

"Traitor." I made my way to the bar, ordered the first thing that sounded bearable, and found a small table near the edge of the room where I could watch without being swallowed. The first sip burned. The second went down easier. By the third, the music felt slightly less like an attack. But my senses were still struggling. The club was a wall of cheap cologne and spilled drinks and body heat, too much layered on too much. My Lycan instincts, usually sharp enough to track a single scent across a crowded room, were completely useless in all of it.

Although there were few differences between the new products, they were consistent with the overall theme. Frank’s perfume caught her interest. She had tried the sample provided by the organizer. Although the fragrance was like chrysanthemum, professional perfumers could tell at a glance that it was not the case. It was likely that Frank cleverly used a refined spice that smelled similar to chrysanthemum, but not to test those who took part in the sampling. He likely thought that no one could see through his tricks as none of the perfumers who participated had reached his level. From this, it could be deduced that he was quite an arrogant person.