Unscented Novel Emilia And Wesley の小説・ストーリー

Emilia's POV Sleep never came. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard the Moon Goddess's voice echoing inside my head. "Trust your heart." Those words refused to leave me. The academy was strangely quiet after the Alpha Council departed, but the silence felt unnatural, as though Willowbrook itself was holding its breath. A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. "Come in." The door opened slowly. Wesley stepped inside, dressed in a simple black shirt instead of his academy uniform. The morning sunlight filtering through the curtains softened his usually intimidating appearance.

Julian skidded to a stop at the edge of a clearing, chest heaving. He looked up at the moon. Then whispered into the dark, “Don’t answer him, girl. Don’t give him what he wants.” But Emilia was already outside. Already walking barefoot toward the trees, her eyes glassy with pull and fire, her wolf fighting her bones. She didn’t know where she was going. Only that something was waiting. And the sky bled brighter to mark the path.

At first, Wesley assumed it was merely her way of passing the time, until one afternoon when Skyler handed him a tablet. "Mr. Coleman, you should take a look at this." Skyler's expression was conflicted, as though he were at a loss for words. Wesley glanced at the screen, and his face immediately darkened. It was Emma's serialized novel. After reading just a few lines, he understood—the female lead's experiences mirrored her own, down to the last detail. So, this was what she had been doing all this time—turning her scars into words, the cruelest kind of self-exposure, laying them bare online for others to dissect.

Then I heard Emilia. Her heels were clicking on the pavement. Getting closer. I didn't turn around. I didn't need to. I could smell her cheap perfume. The kind that tries too hard. It wasn't Rhiannon's scent. Rhiannon didn't need perfume. Rhiannon smelled like vanilla and rain and something warm that I could never name. Emilia smelled like a department store. I turned my head. Just enough to look at her over my shoulder. She was hurrying toward me. Her red dress was wrinkled now. The hem was dirty from the gravel. Her black bob was messy. Strands of hair stuck to her face.

~KILLIAN THANE~ Weak. Feeble. Small. If I had pressed a little harder at her neck, the sound of bones snapping would be next. The image of Emilia Monroe’s frightened eyes had refused to leave my mind since the moment in the relic room. It angered me how her scent still lingered and how my wolf had become restless with desire. A desire to claim and savage her whole till all she knew was me.

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.

Nora said, and my attention snapped back to them. True to her words, Emilia had wet patches spreading across her chest. “I’m like a fucking cow, and my baby daddy is out here buying body wash and fainting,” Emilia scoffed before lifting one of her babies. “Daddy’s a big doodyhead, isn’t he?” she cooed. I blinked. Was that a boy or a girl? “I’m holding the girl. My boy is in the crib,” Emilia said, like she could hear my confusion.

When I was sad, he quietly accompanied me. When we left the cemetery, Callum held my hand and said solemnly, "Maggie, this place has brought you too many painful memories. Why don't you return to the pack with me?" At that moment, hurried footsteps sounded behind us. That familiar scent wafted into my nose. Wesley. Callum immediately placed me behind him. Wesley stopped in his tracks, not far away from us. His hair was in a mess. His eyes were burning with urgency and hostility toward Callum.

“You don’t need to get anything. I’m almost done here, and then we can go.” I worked for a little while longer, placing the new flower seeds into the soil before covering them up carefully. I had just stood up and called out to Emilia when a scent hit me, different from the flowers, different from Emilia’s, far more forbidden and dangerous. “My lady, stay behind me,” Emilia whispered, sniffing around with her eyes fully alert.

"That dark granite the previous owners had looked like a mausoleum. You have such an eye for these things, Emilka." For the next fifteen minutes, the conversation flowed with an easy, practiced rhythm. We complained about contractor delays and gossiped about a mutual friend's disastrous charity gala. Evelyn was completely in her element, vibrant, witty, and entirely engaged. It was so easy to slip into the old familiarity, to remember why I had always valued her. She was the one person in this family who had never made me feel like an outsider. But every time the car slowed down in traffic, my mind raced. Was Damian truly stuck in that boardroom, a victim of his boss's sudden demands? Or was