Scentless

Drunk Call

Flash back

The night was cool as Ava stumbled up the steps to her apartment, Liam at her side, steadying her with a light grip on her arm. She wasn’t 'that' drunk, she assured herself. Just… a little tipsy. Okay, maybe more than a little. But after the day she’d had, it was understandable. Damon’s words had been playing on a loop in her head, gnawing at her. She could barely focus at work, and even now, after a couple of drinks, she still couldn’t shake the feeling of confusion, and what was it? Anxiety? Curiosity? Annoyance?

Liam unlocked the door for her, guiding her inside like the good friend he was. “Are you alright?” he asked, a half-smile on his face.

“Yeah,” Ava muttered, waving him off. “I’m fine. Just… needed to get out of my head for a while.”

“I noticed,” he said with a chuckle. “Well, I’ll let you get some sleep. You need it.”

“Thanks for the drink,” Ava said, offering him a sloppy but sincere smile. “And the talk.”

“Anytime,” Liam said, giving her a mock salute as he backed out the door. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

She snorted. “That doesn’t leave much.”

“Exactly,” he grinned, before heading off into the night.

Ava shut the door behind him and leaned against it, exhaling a long breath. The apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the fridge in the kitchen. The stillness should have been comforting, but instead, it only made the thoughts in her head louder. Damon’s voice echoed again 'I can smell you.' His expression, his words, the way he looked at her like he’d discovered something precious.

And the worst part was, she wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about it.

She wandered into the living room, plopping down on the couch and staring up at the ceiling. Why did this bother her so much? She’d gone her whole life without anyone noticing her scent, and now of all people, Damon Hale, her arrogant, alpha boss, had to be the one to break that streak. The alpha who couldn’t stand omega scents found hers soothing. It didn’t make sense.

Ava groaned, covering her face with her hands. Maybe Liam was right. Maybe her scent was changing. But why? And why now? She had always been careful to control herself, to stay neutral, but something about Damon was unraveling all that.

She grabbed her phone, intending to distract herself with some mindless scrolling, but her fingers hovered over the screen. Her mind, clouded by alcohol and frustration, wandered to Damon. What was he doing right now? Probably still working. The man seemed married to his job, always focused, always in control. But earlier, at lunch, there had been something different. A crack in his usual demeanor.

Before she could stop herself, Ava was scrolling through her contacts, her thumb hovering over Damon’s name. Calling him was a terrible idea. It was late, and she’d had too much to drink. But maybe just maybe if she talked to him, she could clear the air. Figure out what exactly had happened between them.

Her thumb pressed the call button before her brain caught up with her body.

The phone rang once. Twice. Ava’s heart pounded in her chest as she realized what she was doing. She should hang up. She really, really should

“Hello?”

Damon’s deep voice came through the line, calm and slightly rough around the edges, like he’d been resting.

Ava froze, her heart suddenly in her throat. She hadn’t expected him to answer. “Uh… hi.”

“Ava?” Damon’s voice was sharper now, more alert. “It’s late. Is something wrong?”

Yes, something was wrong. Everything was wrong. Her thoughts were a tangled mess, her heart was racing, and her judgment was definitely clouded by alcohol. But she couldn’t tell him that. So instead, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Why can you smell me?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Ava closed her eyes, cringing at her own words. 'Smooth, Ava. Real smooth.'

“Excuse me?” Damon’s voice was calm but tinged with confusion.

“You said you could smell me,” Ava continued, her words slurring slightly. “But no one else can. I’ve always been scentless or close enough. So why can 'you' smell me? What makes you different?”

Another pause. Ava could almost hear Damon processing her words, deciding how to respond. “Ava, are you drunk?”

“No!” she said a little too quickly, before groaning softly. “Okay, maybe a little. But that’s not the point!”

“Ava—”

“I just don’t get it,” she interrupted, her frustration spilling over. “Why do you, of all people, have to notice me now? I’ve worked so hard to stay invisible. To keep people from noticing. And then you ” She trailed off, her voice cracking with emotion she hadn’t realized she was holding back. “You weren’t supposed to notice me.”

Damon was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was low and measured. “Ava, I think you need to get some sleep.”

“Sleep?” she repeated, almost laughing. “How can I sleep when you’ve thrown everything off? You—” She paused, her thoughts muddled. “You’re my next target.”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. Ava froze, realizing what she had just said. Her heart stopped.

“What did you say?” Damon’s voice had changed, his calm tone replaced with something colder. Sharper.

Ava blinked, her mind scrambling to backtrack. “I—uh, I didn’t mean—”

“You said I’m your next target,” Damon repeated, his voice like steel. “What does that mean?”

Panic flooded Ava’s system. Her hunter instincts screamed at her to shut up, to fix this before she said something she couldn’t take back. But the alcohol clouding her judgment made it hard to think clearly. Hard to lie.

“I didn’t… I wasn’t… It’s nothing,” she stammered, her pulse racing. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it?” Damon’s voice was tight, controlled, but there was an edge of danger beneath it. “Ava, what the hell is going on?”

Ava’s mouth went dry. She had slipped, and now Damon was on high alert. She could hear it in his voice, could feel the tension even through the phone. This was bad. Very bad.

“I can explain,” she said quickly, her brain working overtime to come up with a plausible excuse. “It’s just… a joke. A bad one. I’ve had too much to drink, and I’m rambling. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Damon didn’t respond immediately, and for a moment, Ava thought he might be buying it. But then he spoke, his voice cold and unyielding.

“Ava, I’m coming over.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “What? No, you don’t have to—”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Damon said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Stay where you are.”

And then the line went dead.

Ava stared at her phone, her heart pounding in her chest. What had she just done?

End Flashback

---

True to his word, Damon arrived at her apartment ten minutes later. Ava barely had time to gather her thoughts before there was a firm knock on her door. She jumped, her nerves frayed, and scrambled to her feet, pacing in circles as she tried to figure out how to explain herself.

'This is a disaster.'

Another knock, more insistent this time.

Ava took a deep breath and opened the door.

Damon stood on the other side, his expression unreadable, but there was a tension in his jaw that told her he wasn’t here for a friendly chat. His dark eyes scanned her quickly, assessing her state, before locking onto hers with an intensity that made her stomach flip.

“Damon, I—”

“Let me in,” he said quietly, but there was a command in his voice that made Ava step aside without protest.

He walked past her into the living room, his presence filling the small space. Ava shut the door, her hands trembling slightly. She hadn’t expected this. She hadn’t expected him to come over, let alone confront her like this. She was still drunk—well, not as much as earlier, but enough that her mind wasn’t as sharp as it should be.

Damon turned to face her, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. “Tell me the truth, Ava. What did you mean when you said I’m your next target?”

Ava swallowed hard, her throat dry. She could feel the weight of his gaze, the sharpness of his attention, and it made her feel exposed in a way she hadn’t anticipated. She had to lie. She had to say something that would get him off her back without raising more suspicion.

But nothing came to mind.

“I—” She faltered, her voice betraying her. “It’s complicated.”

Damon’s eyes darkened. “Complicated how?”

Ava bit her lip, her mind racing. She couldn’t tell him the truth. She couldn’t reveal who she really was—what her family was. But the more she hesitated, the more she felt Damon’s patience wearing thin.