Page 4 of Scent of Home

He frowns, and I can see him trying to figure out how to ask me what he really wants to know. Hero starts the bus and steers us down the path of destiny. Suddenly, and for the first time, I’m excited.

Locke surprises me, though. His question is blunt and to the point.

“Do you have a pack? A mate? A boyfriend? Husband? Lover? Girlfriend? Wife?”

I laugh, amused. “No, I don’t have a pack. And none of the above. Do you?”

Locke’s eyes turn guarded, but he shakes his head quickly. “I do not.”

Something there, the truth and not the truth. I’d bet my paycheck on there being more to the story.

I lean close to the seat and watch as his eyes dilate. My scent is powerful, and as a female alpha, which is seldom seen, it packs a punch. I smell like mocha, a decadent combination of coffee and chocolate. A scent that appeals to hardened alphas, sweetheart betas, and feisty omegas alike. Until they realise who they have to deal with.

Then they run. Usually after I’ve fucked their brains out. I’m a notch of bedpost, a mark in a little black book. They fuck me, and they run. Wham, bam, thank you, alpha ma’am.

As an alpha, I’m slightly more prepared for the cruelties of this world. I’m stronger, I can smell better, my instincts guide me to protect, and I lean more towards violence, which is where I’m in my element ripping contracts apart. My colleagues say I’m bloodthirsty. I say it’s just me. Alphas also have a bundle of muscles at the base of their dicks that allows them to knot an omega. Or in my case, an extra set of muscles that grips a penis and holds it deep inside me. So far, my experiences have been sadly disappointing in that regard. I could take it or leave. But I’m extra; salty, spicy, mean. However you want to look at it. Erin Bradley is not your typical alpha.

Omega’s, on the other hand, carry a sweeter and captivating perfume. I’ve met a few, none that caught my fancy, and mostly females. I dream about a male omega suffering under my lock. They are often more emotional, appear innocent but can be deadly. I never underestimate an omega. They go into heats the same way an alpha can go into ruts. It’s a deadly dance that can bring them the most amazing ecstasy or leave them vulnerable. The capacity for sexual joy and torrid violence is a knife’s edge during a heat or a rut.

The last designation are betas. Of whom the majority of the population are. They are a more well-rounded example of humanities differences. They don’t have knots, generally can’t take them, but they do have the ability to bring calm and peace to omegas and alphas both.

I just stay away from everyone. But this little mystery in front of me is not giving off any indication what designation he is, at all. He’s got barely any perfume. He looks me in the eye like an alpha. But he’s probably just a beta who is having some emotional distress that’s masking his scent. Interesting. I do love mysteries.

“Do you like chicken and lettuce sandwiches?” My offer baffles me.

He stares at me, his mouth parted, blind and drunk on my scent. I wait, and finally, he shakes out of it and nods. It happens often. As a female alpha, my scent is a powerful hit to anyone who doesn’t expect it. It’s affecting him more strongly than most people. Which is weird.

“Yeah, I mean, yes. Who doesn’t?”

I bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t laugh at this adorable and sexy man, pull out two sandwiches and two bottles of juice, and pass one of each to him.

“Join me for dinner.”

He takes the food, hesitates as his finger brushes my hand, and then swallows hard. I freeze, arrested by the shine in his eyes. Why is he so touched about a sandwich? Who is this guy?

“Thank you!”

We eat in silence. The gentle sway of the bus starts a quiet lull in me I find I quite like. I sigh when I’m finished and look up, only to find Locke staring at me. His gaze makes the hairs stand up on my arms, and I find myself wanting to lean in and rub my cheek along his face.

Scent-marking? I think not.

“What?” I say instead.

“That was generous of you. You didn’t have to do that. I appreciate it, though.”

I cock my head to the side and grin at him. “I have ulterior motives.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “You do?”

“I really do.”

He frowns slightly. Is that a flash of fear in his eyes?

“This bus trip is very long, and my mind doesn’t like to be idle.”

He snorts a laugh. “I can keep you entertained in exchange for dinner.”

“You can?” I tease. I purposely let my eyes rove over the parts of his body I can see easily.

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