Unscented Novels & Stories

Which is on the far end of the room and beside the window where wind carries away most of the scents. What if she came here after knowing the news but I was busy in the shower? Because Monica doesn't talk to the same person twice if she senses disrespect. I opened the letter to find something written in Monica's handwriting. . . Congratulations on your mark! Spray this to suppress your mate scent if you like. You have things to sort out after all. And find me again if you need something. Have fun. . . Suppress my mate's scent? What the fuck does that even mean? I open the bottle of the pink liquid and I sniff it. It's the scent of the honeysuckle. My mate's scent.

Like the room I was in earlier, there was also a hallway on the left side, but unlike that dark room, this one was lit, and I could feel the presence of the person who wanted to talk to me. "Hey, wait, girl!" I almost tore the woman's clothes trying to pull her back as she was leaving the room. I was about to leave too when I heard footsteps approaching. I froze when I smelled a scent I hadn't encountered before. It was hard to describe. It had a unique mix of citrusy, spicy, and woody notes. It just screamed hot and elegant. It wasn't harsh at all; in fact, it was utterly addictive. "Why are you always running away?" I swallowed hard when I heard the voice of the man behind me.

Mate! My wolf growled excitedly as I alighted from the vehicle. He stood at the entrance of the packhouse, his presence was impossible to ignore. My heart beat faster as I alighted the car and walked towards him. His scent is clean and sharp, like a crisp pine forest after a fresh rain. It carries the tang of cedar and the faintest hint of smoky embers, grounding him in strength and authority. It’s the scent of the wilderness—untamed, but with an underlying control that mirrors his dominant nature. Whenever I catch his scent, it brings a sense of stability and protection, yet with a dangerous edge that keeps me on high alert.

I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, my stomach churning with nerves. Today was Xander’s eighteenth birthday, and I was about to face him, our bond stronger than ever. I traced the outline of the label on the spray bottle. Spelling out "scent mask". A brand that created a deodorant like spray that covered your scent to all werewolves. making you smell just like the surroundings. And although this was mostly sold to children who pranked people on Halloween so that they wouldn’t get caught.

Jeremy and I had met with Uncle Milton (yes, his name was really Milton, and he was in fact someone’s uncle), and tried to get him to change the name of the product, but he wouldn’t budge. I originally advised Jeremy to pass on Milton’s lube, but the truth was, it was a great seller, even if people more than likely bought it for a novelty gift. If Uncle Milton was aware of this, he certainly never let on, he was simply happy cashing the checks. Sitting before me was the new “Spring Meadows” scent and I cringed at what this stuff could possibly be used for or why it needed to smell like fabric softener, but tried my best to focus on coming up with a marketing plan that would get it into the h

~ELARA~ I always thought the Moon Goddess was kind, but as my fated mate looked at me with pure disgust, I realized she was a sadist. In the Eclipse pack, most wolves carry this scent of cedar, spice or something wild. Me? Nothing. I’m just a blank space. And everyone here is happy to fill that emptiness with their hate. They call me 'Scentless Mutt.' It’s the only name I’ve ever known, and they never miss a chance to shove it down my throat.

With reddened eyes, he muttered, "Thank goodness." For the following week, I was always unconscious. Wesley stayed by the side of my bed, not daring to even close his eyes to sleep. In a few short days, he seemed to have aged ten years. Although I was deep asleep, my consciousness was unusually clear. I could smell Wesley's unique scent enveloping me, but it no longer stirred anxiety or panic within me. This near-death experience seemed to have cured me of my many years of post-partum depression. I no longer lost sleep or felt anxious when I couldn't feel his scent.

’ ‘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?’

Snow fell from the treads in small clumps and melted almost immediately against the stone floor of the entry. I unwound my scarf and held it in both hands for a moment. My fingers had gone stiff without my realising it. My cheeks were flushed from the cold and I was suddenly aware of how I must look, windblown and pink-cheeked, standing in the middle of someone else's hallway. Julien reached past me to hang his coat on the hook near the door. Not close enough to touch. But close enough that I caught the scent of him, winter air and something warmer underneath it, something that had no business being as distracting as it was.

His fingers tightened on his trousers, a pent-up rage pulsing within him. “Since that day…” He took a deep breath, trying to push away the sickening memory. “My body rejects the scent of omega pheromones.” My alpha instincts perceive them as a threat. I can't stand them anymore." He finally raised his head, meeting his mother's worried gaze.