Claims and Cupcakes (Scent Valley University #3)

Chapter 1

ONE

Delilah

ONE YEAR EARLIER

Aside from the scrumptiously sweet vanilla smell escaping from the edges of the plastic food container I’m clutching, today’s baking class was a disaster.

My experiments with different flavor combinations didn’t work out how I intended.

Why did I ever think combining butterscotch and peppermint was a good idea?

My mind’s already reeling with the possibilities for how I can improve them.

“Butterscotch and pecan?” I murmur to myself as I rub the side of the food box, trying to keep my mittened fingers toasty against the bitter November breeze. “Or pineapple?”

As soon as I get back to Stella House—my on-campus home where I live with my scent sorority sisters—I’ll blast out my favorite songs and whip up more cupcake batches until I perfect the recipe, even if it takes me all night.

Main Street is quiet this evening. Most of the shops have closed for the day, and the restaurants sit eerily empty as darkness rolls in.

I hadn’t intended on staying in the kitchens so late, but I got distracted with scribbling notes and taking advantage of the giant industrial ovens.

I need to figure out the difference in bake time between them and the oven at home to avoid any more rising disasters.

I gasp, jumping back to narrowly avoid being mowed down by a delivery driver on a bike, zipping away from Hummus Where the Heart Is. I reason that most students are probably spending the night in after last night’s excitement on campus.

Yesterday, Pack Fire—one of the most popular bands in the country—played at Club Knotty.

It’ll probably go down as being one of the social highlights of the entire semester.

I personally wouldn’t know. Despite Sabs claiming she could get us tickets to see them, I decided that playing around with sprinkles and frosting was a better use of my time.

I quickly whip off a mitten to text her and Kady, letting them know I’m on my way home with more cupcakes than they’ll be able to eat. Hopefully, it’ll cheer everyone up as we’ve all been missing Bree—our old housemate—who dropped out of college after recently bonding with her pack.

I chuckle as the replies come in.

SABS

Cupcake eating challenge accepted! I’ll cancel my pizza order.

KADY

Larry will be happy.

They’ve both become my family since I started at Scent Valley University.

All omegas complete a personality and scent test as part of the admission process which is designed to allocate omega housing based on complimentarily qualities.

Although we’re all so different, the test must be accurate since we’re now best friends.

However, Larry—Kady’s crazy cat with a serious sugar addiction—is still wary of me and Sabs.

The flapjacks were a start, but maybe these cupcakes will finally help me win the furry menace over…

“Come on, cuppies!” My voice gets carried away with the wind as it stings my cheeks. “Not much farther to go.”

Struggling to balance the cupcake box with one arm, I wrestle on a mitten and readjust my hat to stop it from covering my eyes.

That is, if you can call the lumpy, lopsided thing on my head a hat—it’s bright pink with an enormous yellow pom-pom on top.

I’ve recently started knitting and still have a lot to learn.

As I pass Nora’s Nest Nook, I catch sight of my reflection in the window.

With my bobbled hat and two-sizes-too-big rainbow fleece jacket, I almost resemble a frosted cupcake with sprinkles myself.

In fact, I don’t look out of place in Nora’s winter wonderland themed display among the striped candy canes and snowflake embellished pillows.

“Oh no!” A huge gust of wind plucks the hat straight off my head. My woolen monstrosity catches in the breeze, dancing down the sidewalk. “Come back!”

I scamper after it, chasing it down a side alleyway.

Every time I get close enough to snatch it, it drifts away, almost like it’s intentionally taunting me.

First, the flavor combination disaster in class, and now this?

Argh. I probably should’ve stayed in bed after reading my horoscope which warned today would be full of unexpected challenges.

“Gotcha!” I declare triumphantly when my hat gets caught against the side of a building.

As I bend to scoop it up, time slows down. My entire body lurches forward as I fall over my own feet. As I tumble, the cupcake container pops open, and like a champagne cork, the contents leap out while I brace for impact.

Suddenly, strong hands around my waist stop me.

I halt, suspended in mid-air, mouth half-open in a gasp.

When the owner of the mysterious hands and lightning reflexes pulls me upright, I’m instantly hit by the mouth-watering smell of thick caramel, toffee, and salted butter.

Mmm. Sure, I’ve made deserts that have smelled this delicious, but I’ve never met an alpha whose smell could rival my famous brownies. His scent is so… all-consuming.

My knees buckle, both from the shock of the almost-fall and from the source of the divine scent that wraps around me like a warm hug. Thankfully, the stranger holding onto my waist doesn’t let go, keeping me from crumpling to the floor like a piece of overcooked pasta.

“Th-th-thanks.” Somehow, I manage to pull myself out of whatever crazy trance his scent has put on me and face my savior. “For catching me.”

A lean alpha towers over me, eyes narrowed in concern.

His chin-length dark brown hair pokes out from underneath a gray beanie, and tattoos creep up over the top of his black hoodie, covering his neck.

I swallow hard as his piercing green gaze meets mine, trying my best not to drool.

He looks as stunned as I feel as his eyes widen.

He says nothing, letting the silence stretch out.

It must only be seconds, but it feels like minutes, his expression filled with a deep intensity that sends a warm shiver down my spine.

Then he clears his throat. “Sorry I couldn’t save your cupcakes.”

He shifts from one foot to the other. His eyes jump around, glancing over my shoulder, as if he’s expecting someone else to be there.

I wince, only now remembering the cupcake massacre at our feet. I shake my head as I take in my perfectly piped frosting, now crushed into a pastel-colored, gooey mess. “They’re ruined.”

“Is this yours?” He picks up the ridiculous hat that caused this whole ordeal. A trace of a smile graces his lips as his thumb strokes the wool.

If he keeps rubbing my hat like it’s a genie’s lamp, I’ll happily grant him a special wish… Delilah! I mentally chastise myself from spiraling into a sexy rabbit hole that I have no business going down. Pull yourself together!

“That’s what I was chasing after. Blame the hat for,” I gesture at the squashed desserts, “this mess.”

Our hands brush as he passes the knitted offender back. Even through my mittens, a spark of heat races up my arms, making the hairs stand at attention.

“Nice nails,” I blurt, jumping on the first thing I see, hoping to distract myself from the quiver of longing ebbing through me.

It’s not every day I speak to an alpha who smells like brownies and has the bone structure of a high fashion model.

I’m not used to a lot of male attention.

It’s usually Sabs’s jaw-dropping outfits and Kady’s standoffish elegance that attracts male attention whenever we’re in Club Knotty, and I often get quickly written off as their kooky friend.

He yanks his hand, with neatly painted black nails, back.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. I can’t wear polish on mine because I keep biting them.

It’s a nervous thing, you know?” I can’t stop babbling.

How can I think straight when I’m surrounded by this alpha who smells like pure sex on legs?

“I’ve been thinking of trying hypnosis. For the nail biting. Some people say it can help.”

He tilts his head to the side, surveying me with bemusement. “You really want to talk about my nails?”

“No, sorry.” What the hell must he think of me?

“You don’t have to stick around. You’ve already stopped me from falling and rescued my hat.

Granted, it’s not my finest work. I kept dropping stitches, and the yarn is too thin.

Anyway!” I pull the hat back over my unruly curls before removing my mittens and tucking them in my pocket.

“I’ll tidy up then take what I can to a spot nearby where I know foxes live.

They can have a midnight snack. Can’t have it going to waste, right? ”

“Let me help you with the sponge graveyard.”

His voice is soft with an underlying rasp. He has a slight accent, American with a hint of British-ness that only makes him more attractive.

“I’m sure you have better things to do than help me,” I say as I scoop the remains of the cupcakes into the box, awkwardly scraping them up with the lid. “Like studying or whatever else you’re planning on doing tonight.”

“Actually, I’m not a student here.”

“Oh?” Something about his face looks familiar, but I’m positive I’d remember him if we’d met before. A chiseled jawline like that would be pretty hard to forget. “Are you visiting a friend?”

He shoots me a funny look. “Something like that.”

He studies me intently, making me feel like I’m a dough he’s watching rise. Unfortunately, I’m deflating faster than an underbaked muffin under his scrutiny.

“Is there something on my face?” I swipe at my heated cheeks. Perhaps I’m still covered in flour? It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just…” He scrubs a hand over his beanie. “I didn’t expect to run into someone like you tonight.”

I snort. “Yeah, I doubt running into the crazy cupcake lady is on anyone’s bucket list.” I hold out my hand. The action feels oddly formal, but I’ve committed now. “I’m Delilah.”