I bit my lip. "My mum told me never to tell an alpha my scent. She said some would try to claim me, pretending to be a match just to bond me."
"Your mother was wise."
"She was." I leaned my head back against his shoulder. "I know I have scents I never reveal to anyone. The only one I ever tell people is the smell of rain in the air right before thedownpour. You know that moment when you can taste the storm coming? When the air goes heavy and electric?"
"Petrichor," he said softly. "I can smell that on you. It's beautiful."
My heart kicked. "You can?"
"Since the day you walked into Hastings' office."
I spun in the water, facing him. Water splashed over the edge of the tub, but neither of us cared.
"You can smell my scent?"
"Yes." His hands settled on my hips, holding me steady. "But until your heat, I won't know your base scents. The deepest ones. Those only come out when you're vulnerable."
My mother's warning echoed in my head. Never tell. Never reveal.
But Etienne had been kind. He'd been patient. He'd made me feel safe in a way I'd never felt before.But why?
"You can smell it, can't you? Even now, even before my heat."
"Yes. Vanilla. Your other scent is vanilla." His voice was strained. "I can smell rain and vanilla and something else I can't quite name yet."
He turned me around gently, his hands cupping my face. Water dripped between us as he leaned closer, his forehead pressing to mine.
"I can smell the same on you," I admitted.
"And Hastingsand Fritz?”
I shrugged. “Your pack smells like rain. There is also an earthy note there and perhaps leather.”
His eyes searched mine, dark and intense. “But you don’t know what your heat scents are?”
“I never paid attention to anything but getting off.”
He laughed. “I get that. But you know it means we're compatible. It means your omega recognizes my alpha." He paused, his thumb brushing my cheek. "It doesn't mean we're a scent match. Not yet. But it means we could be."
My breath caught.
Slowly, so slowly I could have stopped him at any moment, but I didn’t.
He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. It was gentle, nothing like the heated desperation from earlier.
When he pulled back, we stared at each other, the candlelight flickering across his face.
"What happens now?" I whispered.
"Now?" His lips curved into a small smile. "Now we wait for your heat. And we see if the universe is as smart as I think it is."
I kissed him again, letting myself believe, just for this moment, that maybe the universe knew exactly what it was doing.
Because perhaps Maeve was my fairy godmother and found me my Prince Charmings.
20
Etienne
