Chapter 19 #2
"Kol." I cut him off gently, fighting a smile at his rambling. "Just ask." He took a breath, his chest rising and falling beneath his ridiculous apron. When he looked up, his amber eyes were earnest and vulnerable in a way that made my chest ache.
"Can I scent you?" The words came out soft, almost shy.
His fingers curled against the table, knuckles going slightly white.
"Just—just a little. Not a full scent-mark or anything, I know that's a bigger thing, but I just..
. you smell like the house now, which is good, that's really good, but you don't smell like me, and I want—" He stopped, swallowed hard.
"I want you to carry a little piece of me with you. If that's okay."
The table had gone quiet again. I could feel Reid's eyes on me, Nolan's gentle attention, Sawyer's steady presence. None of them said anything, leaving the decision entirely to me.
Scenting. I knew what it meant—had learned about it in fragments over the years, pieced together from overheard conversations and half-understood biology. It was intimate. Personal. A way of marking someone as yours, of leaving a piece of yourself on them for the world to smell.
Kol wanted that with me. Wanted other people to know, just from being near me, that I belonged to him in some way.
The old fear stirred in my chest—the voice that said this was too much, too fast, that I was giving pieces of myself away that I'd never get back.
But underneath the fear, there was something else.
Something warm and wanting that recognized this for what it was: not claiming, but caring. Not possession, but protection.
"Okay." My voice came out steadier than I expected.
"Yeah. You can scent me." Kol's whole face lit up, his amber eyes going bright with joy, his scent blooming into something sweet and happy that filled the kitchen.
But he didn't lunge at me the way I half-expected.
Instead, he slid his chair even closer, moving slowly, giving me time to change my mind.
"Tell me if it's too much." His voice was barely above a whisper, his breath warm against my cheek. He was close now, closer than he'd ever been, and I could see the flecks of gold in his amber eyes, the faint freckles scattered across his nose. "Tell me and I'll stop. Okay?"
I nodded, not trusting my voice. Kol leaned in, his nose brushing against my temple first—light, barely there.
Then he moved down, trailing along my hairline, breathing me in even as he breathed himself out.
His cheek brushed against mine, soft and warm, and I felt the slight rasp of stubble against my skin.
His scent wrapped around me—orange blossoms and honey and something deeper, something that was purely Kol. It seeped into my hair, my skin, my clothes, layering over the house scent I'd already absorbed and making it richer. Fuller.
He nuzzled against my neck, right where my pulse fluttered beneath my skin, and made a sound low in his throat—a pleased rumble that vibrated through my whole body. His hand came up to cup the back of my head, fingers threading gently through my hair, holding me close but not trapping me.
"Thank you." His voice was muffled against my throat, rough with emotion. "Thank you for letting me." I didn't know what to say, so I just leaned into him, letting myself be held, letting his scent sink into my bones. It felt good. Safe. Right in a way I hadn't known I was looking for.
When he finally pulled back, his amber eyes were shining, his cheeks flushed, his whole body radiating happiness so strongly I could practically taste it in the air.
"You smell like me now." He sounded awed, like he couldn't quite believe it. His hand was still cupping the back of my head, his thumb tracing gentle circles against my scalp. "You smell like me and the house and—" He stopped, swallowed. "You smell like pack."
Something cracked open in my chest at that word. Pack. I'd been hearing it for weeks now, had started to let myself believe it might be true, but hearing it like this—smelling the proof of it on my own skin—made it real in a way nothing else had.
"My turn next time." Nolan's voice was warm, teasing, breaking the intensity of the moment. But when I looked at him, his green eyes were soft and serious underneath the humor. "If you want."
"And mine." Sawyer's voice was rough, barely more than a growl. He wasn't looking at me—was staring down at his coffee like it held the secrets of the universe—but his ears were red, and his scent had gone sharp and wanting in a way that made my stomach flip.
Reid didn't say anything, but when I glanced at him, his dark eyes were burning with something fierce and possessive. He gave me a small nod, an acknowledgment, a promise.
"I'd like that." My voice came out rough. I looked around the table at the four of them—Kol still glowing with happiness, Nolan smiling gently, Sawyer studiously avoiding eye contact, Reid watching everything with quiet satisfaction. "All of you. I'd like that."
Kol threw his arms around me again, pulling me into a hug that smelled like orange blossoms and burnt eggs and something that felt an awful lot like home. For the first time in my life, surrounded by four Alphas who wanted nothing more than to leave their mark on me, I didn't feel trapped.
I felt found.