Unscentable Novels & Stories

I no longer have any fear of him. “You look radiant, my lady. Happiness glows from your skin,” Iamem says as she rubs the petals along my legs, letting the light, sweet scent linger on me. “Don’t scrub too hard—we can’t wash away the prince’s scent,” Shabat gently scolds her. “Even if I spent the whole day rubbing flowers over her, it wouldn’t come off. The prince has marked her in every possible way.” I start to laugh, and they join in. Truth is, I can’t smell whatever scent they’re talking about. As far as I know, only the shadow beings and the vampires can detect it. That’s how they know not to approach without permission.

Being this close, I can’t help but notice the unique scent that clings to her, a personal fragrance that’s unmistakably hers. The smell of her shampoo is rich and enticing, a delightful blend of sweet vanilla and exotic pomegranate, intertwined with a subtle undertone of the alcohol from the night’s festivities. It’s a striking combination, leaving a lingering impression in my senses.

Instinctively, I sniff myself and realize what he means. I don't smell like anything. Because it's like I don't have a scent at all. And worst of all, I can't feel my wolf.

The goal is a non pharmaceutical intervention that works through the olfactory system. Sleep regulation. He thought about the way she'd held his gaze when she said it. Like she was giving him information and watching him receive it simultaneously. Cole shifted slightly in the front seat. Damien put his phone in his pocket. Got out of the car. His office was the same as always. He sat at his desk and looked at the city and thought about V7 and psychographic profiling and self-sustaining attachment patterns and a researcher in navy blue who studied the precise mechanisms by which scent bypassed conscious processing.

’ ‘Not sure, should we find out? ‘Yeah, let’s’ Nodding my head in agreement do I move to approach the packhouse slowly. Careful in making myself scarce so as not to be seen. Not wanting to alert them of my presence until suddenly I’m hit by a smell. A scent that I’ve never smelt before. A smell that now had Rune purring and rolling around on his back. The scent being that of Sage, Cedarwood and Lemon. ‘MATE!’ Pausing within my tracks do I move to answer Rune back. ‘What? What did you just say?’

Every breath I take is filled with his scent. Sable won't stop whining. Look at him. Please. Just once. I can't. Because if I look at him, I'll break. And I can't afford to break.

Is that healthy? Lilith Ashbourne lounges two seats away, violet eyes scanning the room with predatory calm. Her all black business pantsuit highlights her violet eyes more. Faye Marlowe tears into a croissant with theatrical elegance, as though rehearsing for an audience. Her long sleeved green shimmery thigh high dress sparkling in the morning light reflecting her eyes. Sora Han sits upright, posture flawless, utensils aligned with exact symmetry. Perhaps she has OCD? She is wearing a grey skirt suit today. Somehow it makes her looks more severe.

“How much do you want? I’ll transfer it right now, and we can both forget this happened.” He shrugged slightly. “I know how this works.” Something cold settled deep inside my chest. “What exactly do you think this is?” I asked quietly. He gave a humorless chuckle. “See, girls like you show up all the time,” he said. “They hook up with strong wolves using those mate-scent perfumes to get attention, then pull some emotional stunt afterward so they can linger around for longer or demand more money.” Every word felt like acid poured over my skin. “I’m not stupid.”

I could hear a faint footstep behind as I rushed into my car, driving straight to her office. I got to her company building, rushing through the elevator, but something was off... No matter how hard I sniffed, my wolf couldn't pick up her scent. Umbral Dew. A forbidden potion that conceals the scent of a wolf. Whatever happened here, it was well calculated. My wolf raged, a continuous thud echoing in my head as I groaned. The pain worsening. "Where the hell are you, Aurelia?"

"That's because I'm controlling myself for my wife's sake! Do I have to cry and scream in front of Elena for you to believe I'm a father?!" "I'm not looking for tears, but for honesty in your scent," Lucien shot back directly. "Humans cannot manipulate their hormones and the scent of fear that escapes through their skin's pores when they're under pressure. And your body's scent, from yesterday in the car until this very moment ... is far too clean of fear." Hendra fell silent for a moment. A faint, almost imperceptible smile briefly flickered at the corner of his lips before being replaced by an expression of weary resignation.