Chapter Five – Holy Fuck
CHAPTER FIVE
Holy Fuck
W e cross the corridor, trembling, with the commander leading us and the MAB pack at our backs. I spot the blond human leaning against the wall next to a door. Two steps from her, the scent hits me at full force.
Lilies. Strong. Fresh.
I’ve never smelled anything better in my life. I want to lean into it, bury myself in it. My heart races, and I swear it’s fast enough to give even an aegis a heart attack.
I glance at my brothers. Their nostrils are flared, their expressions stunned.
Does this scent mean she’s our scent-mate? Or do all Prime nyras just smell this good?
The commander steps into the room, and we follow, legs wobbly.
She’s there.
The head of the hospital bed is raised, propping her upright. Her skin is warm tan; her black hair tied in a ponytail. She has dark eyebrows, a generous mouth, and pitch-black eyes that widen when she sees us. Her gaze moves from me to Shane, then to Jay, and back to me.
And then it happens.
A sudden surge of pheromones erupts from me. A scent I’ve never smelled before floods the air, mingling with the lily perfume. I taste it heavy on my tongue, my mouth flooding with something sharp and woody, like birch bark.
The last time I had any trouble controlling my own pheromones, I was barely fourteen years old, so what the hell is wrong with me now? Panic spikes in my chest. My heart’s going so fast I’m sure I’ll collapse. I freeze… until I notice the scent has three threads.
Not one.
Three.
Jay. Shane. Me.
We’re all pumping the same stuff into the air. And somehow, that calms me. If they’re doing it too, this must be normal.
I look to the nyra again. Her nostrils are flared now, her mouth slightly open, her expression stunned. She raises her hands, trembling so badly I can see it from here, and covers her mouth and nose with both palms. On her left arm, I spot a stitched wound, the skin red and inflamed near the elbow.
Then I hear it .
A hum. Low, steady. It takes a second to realize it’s coming from us.
It’s in my chest. I feel it, rumbling deep.
How the hell am I doing this?
I try to stop. I can’t. I’m not in control of my own body.
But something about the noise catches her attention. Slowly, she lowers her hands, tilting her head, eyes locked on us with sharp focus. Then she shakes her head as if snapping out of a trance and draws a deep breath. Her face settles, calmer and resolute.
I glance at Commander Eneas. He’s smiling.
His voice cuts through the fog. “These are Kory, Jayson, and Shane Larsen,” he says to her. “As previously informed, you are advised not to disclose any personal information to them unless all parties consent to proceed with the bond.”
He turns to us. “While the goal of the Matching Program is to help scent-mates find each other, if that’s not the case here, you may still choose to proceed with a non-scent bond, if all parties agree.
“There’s no time limit for your decision, but if no choice is made within ninety days, all of your genetic profiles will be reentered into the Matching Program database and made available for new potential matches.”
His tone softens slightly as he looks at her again. “Do you want to be chaperoned by a MAB officer during this meeting, or would you prefer it take place privately?”
I only notice she’s alone when he says that. Her fathers must be nearby, maybe in the hospital cafeteria.
As strange as it is for a nyra to be left alone, I’m glad they aren’t here right now. As a stray pack, we have little chance of making a good impression on her family, but I’d still rather meet them when I’m actually capable of speaking, which is not the case right now.
Her gaze lingers on Shane, then breaks as she turns to the commander.
“I want privacy, please.”
Her voice surprises me. It’s beautiful, melodic, but also strong. Not soft or hesitant, like every nyra I’ve ever met.
The commander nods. "Alright, then. Lieutenants Tomsin—" he nods at the MAB pack, "—and I will wait outside."
And just like that, we’re alone with her.
Her lily scent is stronger now. It fills my lungs and settles deep. I’ve never breathed easily in a closed room, but now, in this tiny, windowless space, I feel like I could float.
She, on the other hand, looks like she’s ready to flee.
Her gaze keeps flickering between each of us.
There’s tension in her shoulders, her posture stiff.
Her hands rest in her lap now, fingers still trembling faintly.
She breathes in and out, slow and deliberate.
I don’t know if she’s trying to calm herself down or just struggling to breathe.
Suddenly, I feel a wild urge to go to her. To bury my face in her, to lick her from head to toe until every bit of her lily perfume is mixed with my scent. To sink my teeth into her and leave my mark.
That’s when I realize what this new scent is: it’s ownership pheromone.
I want to rub against her because my skin is damp with it. I want to lick her because it’s all over my saliva. I want to mark her with my scent. I want everyone to know she’s taken. I want to bite her and make her mine.
I look at my brothers. They’re stiff, fighting the same instincts I am.
My legs start to move on their own. I think I’m losing my mind.
I know I should say something. Maybe tell her I’m sorry she was in an accident. Maybe ask how she’s feeling. But the words don’t come out.
She’s the one who finally breaks the silence. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice shaky. “I’ve had two match meetings before. It was easy to talk to both packs once I realized they weren’t my scent-mates. But now… turns out you are. And I… I don’t know what to say.”
You are.
Holy fuck.
Holy fuck.
Holy. Fuck.
Commander Eneas was right. I can’t even remember the last time I cried, but right now, my eyes burn with tears I will not let fall in front of her. All those warnings about not showing up again if we got rejected make perfect sense now. I’m not sure I could stop chasing her if I tried.
She looks at us, waiting.
I draw a breath and force the words out. “I’m sorry you got hurt. We didn’t know. We would’ve come sooner if—”
What the hell am I even saying? Of course we couldn’t have come earlier. But fuck, I wish I’d been with her.
The hum coming out of Jay’s chest gets louder.
“It’s okay,” she says gently. “It wasn’t serious. I got distracted crossing a garage exit and didn’t see the car backing out. Just a bruised rib and some scrapes. I’ll live.”
She looks at Jay. “But thanks for the hum. I can barely feel any pain.”
This eases her pain?
I still don’t understand how we’re doing this, but I’m grateful we are. By the look of that cut on her arm, it’s more than a scrape.
Jay looks at her, confused but smiling. “Anytime.”
She tilts her head. “I didn’t catch who’s who when the MAB guy said your names.”
Her voice. I could listen to it forever.
Shane’s posture is still stiff, but his tone is light. “I’m Shane. That’s Jay—” he nods to his left, “—and this is Kory.”
“Nice to meet you.” She hesitates, and then: “I’m Johane Johnson.”
Wait.
She just told us her name. Her full name.
She shouldn’t have done that, right? That’s against protocol. That means something. Doesn’t it?
My heart takes off again.
She said we’re scent-mates, and I’ve never heard of scent-mates rejecting the bond.
I don’t know what’s happening inside me. It’s too much all at once: euphoria, awe, disbelief, terror, hope. The confusion in my head, tangled with the way my body keeps trying to move toward her on its own, makes me feel a little drunk.
“You just told us your full name,” Shane says, barely getting the words out.
I glance at him, grateful. I needed someone to say it out loud. I need to know what it means. I want her to answer. I want to hear her say it.
She looks at him with a soft smile, but there’s a trace of sadness in her eyes. “Can’t you feel it?” she says quietly. “What’s the point in delaying it?”
She’s right.
God, she’s right.
There’s no point pretending. No point holding anything back. We and her are inevitable now.
The thought hits like a landslide, and when it settles, all I feel is a crashing, unstoppable relief, so strong my throat aches with it, my eyes burn, and the traitorous tears I’ve been holding back blur my vision and cling to my lashes.
We’re all grinning like idiots again. I can’t help it.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Johane,” I say, my voice hoarse.
She laughs. It’s shaky and nervous, but I already love it. “This is the most awkward first date I’ve ever had,” she says. “I mean, we know nothing about each other, but we already know we’re going to be together. That’s weird, huh?”
It’s not.
It’s perfect.
Jay steps forward. “We’ve got all the time in the world to learn everything about each other.”
When he reaches her bedside, she leans her head gently against his stomach.
My chest unclenches. Just seeing her touch one of us helps. Some of our scent will stick. The need eases.
“Jesus,” she murmurs, eyes fluttering closed. “This hum is amazing.”
Jay’s hand trembles as he slowly lifts it. Then his fingers touch her hair, feather-light, and she doesn’t move away.
He looks at me and Shane with wide eyes, like he’s in awe of what he just did. Then he turns back to her and lets his arm drift down until it cradles the back of her head, his palm settling gently on her shoulder .
We all go still, watching her. Waiting.
But she doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t pull away. She just nestles in closer, no hint of rejection, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I step forward, Shane just behind me, and together we move to her bedside, like a current drawn toward something we’ve waited our whole lives to reach.