Chapter 2: The Smell That Shouldn't Exist
1325 Words
Chapter 2: The Smell That Shouldn't Exist
POV: Rhea Grey
The Alpha stays still.
Not even a breath.
The hall keeps breathing around him: moving feet, soft whispers, and the sound of torches crackling. But he stays still. The elders stop for a moment. The staff goes down an inch. People in the crowd are confused.
My fingers go into the wall.
That smell comes back to me.
It isn't gentle. It doesn't ask.
It hits my chest like a door that was kicked open.
Power. Heat. Cold iron. The night air before a storm.
Wrong.
My body knows it's wrong before my mind does.
My lungs stop working. I take a deep breath, and the smell rushes in, filling me up and burning behind my eyes. My heart skips a beat, then races, and I can hear it pounding in my ears.
No. No, no, no.
I shake my head once, quickly and lightly, as if I can shake the feeling off. Like I can clean it off like I clean floors.
The smell sticks.
It goes around my ribs. It settles low in my stomach. It pulls.
My knees get softer.
I push my shoulder harder against the wall to keep myself from falling. People around me are talking quietly. Some people look at me for a second, then look away, not interested. I am still just an omega maid. Still not visible.
But my body is screaming.
The elder clears his throat. "As a tradition—"
The words crack apart.
Because the smell comes back, stronger this time, and closer.
I can taste it on my tongue.
Fear rises quickly and sharply. My hands start to shake. I make fists with them, and my nails dig into my palms.
This is not how it should feel.
I have heard the tales. Warm and soft. A soft tug. A feeling of being right.
This feels like falling down.
I have the courage to look up.
A little bit.
The Alpha's silver eyes are locked on me from across the hall, at the front.
Not past me.
Not over me.
On me.
The world drops away.
The sound fades away until all I can hear is the roar of blood in my ears and the heavy thud of my heart. His eyes are sharp and don't blink, as if he is looking at something he doesn't want to see but can't look away from.
My stomach hurts.
I know.
I know before the word even comes out.
Mate.
The truth hurts me so much that I can't see straight.
No.
I gasp, and the sound is small and broken. My back is flat against the wall, as if it could hold me up. Like it could hide me.
This can't be happening.
Not to me.
Not with him.
The Alpha of the Blackthorn Pack. The strongest man in the room. The man made a promise to another woman. The man who can kill or save someone with a word.
The smell is his.
It is his cold power, his sharp control, and the way he holds the storm.
It's mine.
My knees give out.
I slide down the wall, and when I hit the stone floor hard, my skirt bunches up under me. The impact shakes my bones, but I hardly feel it. I can only hear the bond screaming in my chest.
A loud scream comes out of my mouth before I can stop it.
People turn their heads.
Whispers break out quickly and with a start.
"What's wrong with her?"
"Is she sick?"
“An omega fainting—”
The Alpha takes one step forward.
Just one.
The movement gives me a new wave of energy. I shudder when I breathe. Heat pools low in my body, which is both scary and confusing. My eyes are hot and full of tears.
I shake my head again, but this time harder.
No. Please.
The Alpha stops himself. His jaw gets tight. His hands curl up at his sides.
The elders look at each other with concern.
Vivienne is standing next to him, tall and beautiful in white. Her smile is perfect, but her eyes follow him as he moves and then find me on the floor.
They get smaller.
Sharp. Measuring.
I push myself back up and scramble. My legs shake so much that I almost fall again. I make them hold on and do what I say.
I tell myself not to look at him. Don't breathe.
I turn my head away and look at the stone wall that is only a few inches from my nose. I look at a crack in the rock. On the line that runs through it.
But the smell doesn't care where I look.
It pushes closer, wrapping around me like chains I can't see.
My chest hurts. Every breath feels too small.
This is not right. This is wrong. The Moon doesn't chose girls like me for men like him.
I feel it then.
The pull.
Not just the smell, but something more. Something old, cruel, and certain.
A thread is getting tighter between us.
The elder’s voice trembles. “Alpha… Are you unwell?”
Silence stretches.
The Alpha doesn't say anything.
Instead, his eyes go up just a little bit.
I feel it when he looks away from me.
The bond screams.
Pain shoots through my chest, sharp and sudden, like something breaking. I scream again and hold on to my dress. The edges of my vision turn white.
Someone says something bad under their breath.
The Alpha's head snaps back to face me.
The pain eases, leaving me gasping, shaking.
Understanding crashes down on me, heavy and hard.
He feels it too.
My stomach churns. Panic rises like vomit.
I cannot let this be seen. I cannot let this be known.
I slowly and carefully get up. It feels like I'm fighting my own skin with every move. I keep my head down and let my hair fall forward to cover my face.
I take a step back. Then one more.
The Alpha's eyes are on me, burning my back.
I can feel it even without looking.
The crowd moves, their attention split between us, confused but curious. This is how stories begin. This is how life ends.
I turn.
And I run.
The noise my shoes make on stone is too loud. Every step sounds like a shout. I push through the side doors and into the servants' corridor, where my breath comes in short bursts.
The smell stays with me.
It doesn't go away. It doesn't get weaker.
It is now inside me.
As I run down the hall, past surprised servants and guards who shout after me, tears blur my vision. I don't stop. I can't.
My chest hurts. My lungs hurt.
I burst out into the night air, which was cold and sharp against my hot skin. The stars spin in the sky above, far away and indifferent.
I trip into the shadows near the storage sheds and finally fall down, my back sliding down rough wood until I am curled up on the ground.
I put my hands over my mouth to stop the sobs from coming out.
This can't be my fate.
I am an omega maid with coins hidden under a stone and a mother who is coughing up blood in a small room.
I don't want crowns, power, or Alphas with silver eyes.
The smell surges again.
Closer.
My breath catches.
Footsteps crunch on gravel behind me.
Slow. Steady. Unhurried.
Power rolls over my back like a wave.
I know without turning who it is.
A shadow falls over me.
A deep voice speaks my name for the first time.
“Rhea.”
My heart shatters.
And before I can rise, before I can beg or run again—
He says, low and final,
“You will not speak of this to anyone.”
- Writer
