Return to Seven Fountain

Sweet smell

Keenan stood at the edge of the forest; his hands clenched at his sides as he fought the rising tide of frustration building inside him. The afternoon sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over Alpha Steven's territory. But despite the beauty of the day, his patience had worn thin.

It was now 3 o'clock in the afternoon, and the car that was supposed to take him and his two warriors back to the Seven Fountain pack hadn't shown up. Every minute that passed made him more anxious. He needed to get home, and he needed to get there fast. Tonight was the Mystic Hills mating party—an event that had been lingering in the back of his mind. But it wasn't just the party that had him on edge. It was Simoné.

Simoné, the girl he had secretly harboured feelings for all his life. The girl he couldn't get out of his mind. The girl who had captured his heart from the moment they were children. And now, after all these years, she was going to that mating party. In Clint's territory, no less—Alpha Clint, his rival, the one wolf Keenan didn't trust anywhere near her. The thought of Clint being around Simoné, possibly staking some claim on her, had Keenan's wolf Kent growling in the back of his mind.

"This is getting ridiculous," Keenan muttered to himself, pacing back and forth. His two warriors exchanged wary glances but remained silent, knowing better than to comment when their Alpha was in this kind of mood.

His gaze snapped to the road ahead, still empty, and a low growl escaped his throat. "We can't wait any longer," he grumbled, his patience finally reaching its breaking point. He needed to get back now.

Kent, his wolf, stirred restlessly inside him. "We should run," Kent urged, his voice vibrating with a mix of impatience and excitement. "We'll make it back faster if we shift and run. Forget the car."

Keenan didn't need to be told twice. He shed his clothes, tossing them aside as the familiar burn of the shift coursed through his body. His bones cracked, his muscles realigned, and in mere seconds, his human form was gone, replaced by the massive, black-furred wolf that was Kent. He shook out his fur, his silver eyes gleaming as he dug his paws into the earth.

Without wasting another moment, Keenan took off, his wolf form cutting through the forest with lightning speed. The wind rushed through his fur, and his mind sharpened with focus as the trees blurred past him. Every step brought him closer to home, to his pack, and most importantly, to Simoné.

As he ran, Keenan opened his mind link to his Beta Duncan, Gamma Rupert, and Delta Chase. "Duncan, Rupert, Chase," he called through the link, his voice firm and direct. "I'm running late. The car never showed up, so I'm on foot. You three need to proceed without me. Take Simoné and Chrisanne to the party but listen closely—I don't want Simoné out of your sight. Not for a second. I'll catch up."

There was a brief silence before Duncan responded, his tone cautious. "Alpha, we can delay—"

"No," Keenan cut him off. "Don't delay. Get there on time. Just keep her safe. I'll meet you at Mystic Hills."

Rupert's deep voice joined in. "We've got her covered, Alpha. She won't be alone for a second."

Keenan grunted his approval, his paws digging deeper into the ground as he pushed himself faster. "Good. I'll be there as soon as I can."

He severed the link, his focus now entirely on getting home. The hours passed in a blur as he covered the distance between Alpha Steven's pack and his own. His muscles burned with exertion, but Keenan didn't slow. The thought of Simoné, vulnerable and alone in Clint's territory, fueled his every stride.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Keenan burst through the tree line at the edge of his territory. It was 6:30 in the evening, and the sinking realization that he was already late clawed at his chest. He stopped, his breath heavy, his body still thrumming with the energy of the run. He shifted back into his human form, his eyes immediately locking onto the scene before him.

There, just outside the packhouse, was the unmistakable black SUV that would take Simoné and the others to Mystic Hills. His heart pounded as he scanned the group gathered near the vehicle. And then he saw her.

Simoné.

She stood by the open door of the car, and for a moment, Keenan's breath caught in his throat. His wolf, Kent, howled in the back of his mind, a low, possessive sound that mirrored the surge of emotion flooding through Keenan.

Simoné looked... breathtaking. Her long, dark hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and she wore a dark blue shimmering dress that hugged her curves in ways that made his heart race. The fabric sparkled under the fading sunlight, highlighting her every movement as she gracefully stepped toward the car. Endless legs, smooth and toned, and Keenan's wolf growled in appreciation.

A sweet scent that hit his nose—Lily of the Valley mixed with caramel, captivated him. Did it belong to Simoné? He had never smelled such an exquisite aroma before. It filled his senses, overwhelming him in the best possible way. Keenan stood frozen for a moment, his wolf and his human side both utterly entranced by her.

Simoné, his wolf whispered, filled with longing.

Before Keenan could move, the car doors closed, and the smell was gone. His sister Chrisanne, along with Beta Duncan, Gamma Rupert, and Delta Chase, had already climbed inside. And then, to his dismay, the SUV pulled away from the packhouse, driving off down the road.

Keenan's heart dropped. He had just missed them.

His wolf let out a mournful howl in his, the sound filled with frustration and longing. "We missed her," Kent growled. "We should have been faster."

Keenan clenched his fists, watching as the car disappeared down the road. He could still feel her presence, but she was gone. A wave of protectiveness surged through him. Simoné was heading straight into Clint's territory, and Keenan wasn't there to keep her safe.

Kent growled again, his voice full of impatience. "Well, we're not meeting her like this," his wolf muttered. "You reek of sweat and dirt. Go shower. You've still got time to catch up."

Keenan huffed in frustration but knew his wolf was right. He couldn't show up to Mystic Hills looking like he'd just fought a battle. Not when Simoné was dressed like a goddess, and definitely not when Clint would be there, waiting to make his move.

With a final glance toward the road, Keenan turned and jogged back toward the packhouse. He needed to get cleaned up, fast. There was no way in hell he was letting Clint get near Simoné without him there. And when he arrived, he would make it clear to everyone—especially Clint—that Simoné was his to protect.

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What is the smell Keenan got a wiff of, is it his mate? Please like and comment if you are enjoying the story. Would love to get your positive feedback.