The Scent of Love

Chapter 12

Sean scowls into the drink in his hand. It’s his… third? Fourth? He’s lost count.

He shouldn’t have come to the damn bar in the first place. After Beth’s last heat— and god, leaving after that had been hell— he swore off Omegas. Permanently. Until maybe he can get his act together, or stop trying to self-sabotage his neat, orderly life plan for— for a mate. He doesn’t want a mate. Even if Beth’s scent is the most incredible thing in his entire life. There are still so many things left that he wants to do.

It’s bad enough that he spent two weeks trying to distract himself from Beth. Beta women— they just don’t measure up. It was terrible. Not the s*x— though that varied, in itself— but without Beth’s scent, he never, ever pops a knot, and in the end, everything is so… mediocre. He got so used to the blinding pleasure of serving Beth during her heat, nothing else even holds a candle. 

His mood is so dark he doesn’t notice anyone approach him, until a soft hand lands on his arm. For a split second, he expects to see Beth— it wouldn’t be the first time they’ve run into each other here, or gone home together drunk. Except this time— this time he’s going to tell her no, not tonight, not again.

It’s not Beth.

Whoever it is, he doesn’t recognize her. She’s a pretty woman, very curvy, very goth. Definitely an Omega, with a pleasant, slightly musky scent. Her hair is a wild mixture of purple and blue, and her makeup is sleek, albeit a little heavy. The black lipstick is pretty hot, though. 

“Hey, stud,” she says, her voice husky. “You okay? You look like you could use a friend.”

It is, by far, the lowest effort pickup line he’s ever gotten. Sean gives the girl a wry smile. “I think I’m good, Sweetheart. Thanks.” The word sweetheart tastes like acid on his tongue. He sips at his beer— maybe he’s actually on his fifth— hoping this girl will take the hint, but she stays exactly where she is. 

“I think, Alpha,” The girl says, “you could really use a friend.” She leans in as she says it, and turns her hand over. The key to the back room is in her hand, framed by long, electric blue talons. 

Sean blinks at it, then up at her. “You good, Omega?”

She nods. “I am. But your friend Jenn insisted you might need a quick distraction.” 

Sean’s eyes slide to Jenn. The tiny Alpha meets his eyes for a hot second, then jerks her head toward the back room, and nods at him. 

His gaze returns to the goth Omega. “What’s your name, Omega?” He asks, rising. He sways, just a little, on his feet. 

“Don’t worry about that,” she says, already leading the way. “You can just call me Omega.”

***

Beth wakes in the middle of the night, from a dead sleep, in a panic. For a moment, she’s not sure what woke her. She’s only aware of sitting bolt upright in her bed in a cold sweat, disoriented and distressed. 

The thing that woke her comes again: knocking on her door. Pounding, really. It confuses her so badly that she doesn’t even remember to put pants on, rolling out of the bed to reach the front door. 

She presses her face against the peephole with a frown. Upon seeing who’s on the other side, her frown only deepens, and she opens the door. 

“Sean?” Her voice sounds raw and tired even to her own ears. She rubs at her eyes with the heel of her hand. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

He smells drunk. He looks drunk, leaning against her door like maybe it’s the only thing holding him up. She wonders idly how many drinks he’s had. 

“Hey,” he says, drawing out the word a little. He stumbles in the door, using the wall as a crutch. Beth looks between him and the open hallway, then slowly closes the door behind him. There’s something… off about him tonight. She can’t put her finger on it. “I was thing-ing— I was thinking of you. I wanted to see you.”

For the first time in her life, Beth recoils from him when he reaches for her. Even under the overtime of alcohol, he smells awful. Like his scent has been shifted slightly, like he’s— like— 

Something dark flashes through Beth’s mind. Something possessive. Something angry. 

“Why do you smell like another omega?” 

Sean grimaces at her words. She’s not sure if it’s the words themselves, actually, or the way she spat them at him, as though she somehow has a right to be jealous. Or maybe it’s that she’s glowering at him like she’d like to rip his throat out. She can’t focus enough through the anger to care. 

“I…” he lifts his wrist to his nose and sniffs, and his grimace deepens. “God. Sorry.” 

Beth swallows. This is… the worst. The absolute worst thing. That could ever happen. She’s sure of it. “Sean. Were you…” the words stuck in her throat. She has to swallow again to get them out. “Were you with another Omega?” 

The grimace becomes a sneer. She has no idea how to interpret that, honestly. Confirmation or condescending denial? She’s not sure which she’d hate more. 

“She…” A confirmation, then. Beth’s stomach plummets. “It wasn’t…” Sean shakes his head, attempting to reach for her again. 

Beth sidesteps his hands. 

He seems to get it, from the myriad of expressions his face goes through. His hands drop to fist, instead, at his sides. “She wasn’t you,” he says evenly. 

Beth inhales sharply. Of all the— he— she— 

What? 

“She what?” Beth manages to say it quietly, even though she can feel anger swelling up in her chest like a balloon. “What do you mean, she wasn’t me?” 

Sean shrugs, and then his balance fails him, and he slumps partially against the wall. “She didn’t smell right. She didn’t sound right. She wasn’t—“ his grimace comes back. “There’s no one that compares to you. No one.” 

He said it to her once, during her last heat. She hadn’t really believed him then, because— no. No. There’s just no way he meant it. Things an Alpha says to an Omega in heat are— nothing. Nothing at all. Empty promises and praise, brought out by hormones and pheromones and instincts. Nothing to hold them to, definitely. 

She supposes, then, that that’s the reason she bursts out laughing at hearing them now. No pheromones to react to. 

Sean gapes at her. Even drunk, he looks vaguely offended. Beth feels hot, bitter tears begin to well in her eyes, even as she swallows the even more bitter laughter that started to escape her. 

“Sean,” she says, covering her wretched grimace with a hand. “Sean, you’re obviously wasted. I think you need to go home.” 

She expected him to…she’s not sure, really. Maybe just nod and leave. He’s always been pretty laid back. That’s his schtick, she supposes. Going with the flow. 

Instead, however. 

Instead, his brow furrows, and— despite clearly needing the wall still to remain upright— he attempts to stand, looking between her and the door as though the door itself had just thrown him out of her apartment. “Wait. Why did you laugh?” 

Beth’s humor in the situation is rapidly fading. She has to press her hand to her lips. Tears are still welling up in her eyes, which she tries to blink away, with little success. “Sean. You’ve never— you don’t even—“ she struggles to find the right words, and can only settle for the closest fit— “like me.” 

He blinks at her. “You think I don’t like you?”

Well, no. “You… never really…” she’s exhausted, and frustrated, and honestly words won’t even come right now. “You don’t act like it, outside of my heat.”

Sean’s frown deepens. “Of course not. It’s not supposed to be like this.” 

“Like this?” Beth gawks at him. “Like what?” 

He scoffs at her. “Come on, Beth. We knew after the first time it was supposed to be casual.” 

“We—“ oh, oh, this absolute and complete shitheel, she could just wring his neck. “You knew! You decided it was casual!” She pushes her fingers through her hair— and great, now she’s crying. Perfect. “I don’t even like alphas. I went home with you because you didn’t act like one!”

“Like what?” He manages to stand, towering over her, and yet, she has never felt less afraid of him. Her anger burns too brightly in her chest. “Like that scumbag Chris?”

“Yes!” Beth snaps her head up to meet his gaze. “You were kind, and you respected my boundaries, and then the moment I said I’d be interested in a repeat, you f*****g ghosted me! And you ignored all of my offers! For a year!” She throws her hands up, incredulous. “Who does that?” 

“It’s not—“ he growls, his face red, probably from the alcohol as well as his own frustration. “It’s not like that, you don’t understand—“ 

“Then tell me, Sean!” Her voice has risen past respectable levels for two in the morning in an apartment building. Tears escape despite her best efforts, streaking hot trails down her skin like acid. “I want to understand!” She walks up to him, getting right in his face. The overripe, cloying smell of the other omega makes her want to vomit. “I want to know why you started this all up again— and don’t f*****g tell me it wasn’t your choice, because I offered plenty of times before then— only to bounce constantly back and forth between ignoring me and telling me how nobody compares to me, and whatever other bullshit you’ve said during my heat.” His eyes are intense, but he doesn’t look angry. He mostly looks confused. “Tell me, Sean, why you think it’s okay to have this— this off and on bullshit, and then show up at my home at two in the morning, smelling like another Omega—“

“I didn’t want to get attached!” 

His words ring through the apartment louder than a bomb going off. 

Beth just… stares. Sean’s face has gone completely blank, save from where his jaw is ticking. He must be grinding his teeth. 

It takes her… an inordinate amount of time to react. It’s as though her anger has been covered by a blanket of shock, buried so deep she can no longer feel the heat of it under the sticky tear tracks on her face, or the swollen pressure of it in her chest. Sean refuses to look at her. 

Beth realizes her mouth is hanging open, and recovers just enough to close it, to swallow. She reaches over to the door and opens it, and says nothing. 

Sean watches her silently. The moment stretches on, so tense and thin, it’s bound to snap at any second. 

He nods once, more to the door than to her, and then leaves without another word. She can hear his footsteps, slightly less coordinated than usual, as he retreats down the hall. When she hears the elevator ding, she closes her door and lays back against it. 

It’s a few minutes before she realizes she’s still crying. It’s not long after that she manages to sink down to the ground, wrap her arms around her legs, and let her tears flow.