Supernatural Short Stories

My Favorite Scent

Slight A/B/O semantics

The sun was just starting to sink over the main street shops as you closed yours up for the day. Tucking the key into your purse, you began walking down the sidewalk, the summer air still hot and sticky against your skin.

As if the heat of summer wasn't enough, you could feel your next heat start to settle in. The heat inside you, the tightness of your belly, the irritability you had flashed at multiple customers. Even your suppressants hadn't taken off the edge, and you were slightly worried about this one.

Sure, you were getting up there in age. Most of your friends by now were mated with pups of their own. Telling you to settle down, to find an Alpha you were compatible with.

But this was a small town, and most of the Alphas were taken. Those that still roamed free were from the shady end of town. They smelled of stale beer, tobacco, and grease, and you stayed as far away from them as you could. Wishing that just someday someone would come strolling into town that would take one look at you and utter the word mine. Someone that was handsome and mysterious, but would love you all the same.

You had been told time and time again that you would know them by their scent. That it would be the most intoxicating smell that had ever tickled your nose. Something that was so perfect it was like coming home. But for years now, no Alpha's scent had done that for you.

Trudging along the sidewalk to your small little house at the end of the street, you mentally went down your to-do list, knowing that tomorrow's farmers market would mean that you had to be prepared. Add the stress of your upcoming heat and you were definitely not looking forward to it.

At first, you almost missed it. The welcoming scent of whiskey that always burned slightly at your nose. It was faint, but there, and you glanced around, wondering if some drunk had left a bottle laying around.

Layered above the whiskey was the scent of freshly baked cherry pie. Your absolute favorite. Sweet but with that slightly salty taste of the crust. It had your mouth watering but left you confused as well. No one was around. Most of the shops were already closed, people at home getting their little ones ready for bed. But that scent was coming stronger now, from the back of the butcher's shop.

It was mixed with blood as well, and the rational part of your brain wanted you to turn tail and run. But the wild, omega part of you that was slowly taking control with your heat rolling in had you walking forward, following that scent that was so welcoming.

Your hand was on the door before you knew it, and you were pulling the heavy metal door, surprised that it was unlocked. The storage room was dark, but your eyes quickly became accustomed. There was a man tied to a chair in the middle of the room, his head drooped to one side.

The intoxicating scent was coming from him. So much stronger now, it wrapped around you, comforting you even though you knew you had stepped into something shady. "Hello?" You whispered, looking for the other men that surely had to be here as well.

None of the shadows moved, and you curiously stepped forward, wanting to see the man who had finally captured your interest. His jeans were caked in blood, as was his flannel shirt. He had a nasty gash on his forehead. His shoulders were wide and strong, his thighs lean but sturdy at the same time. He was handsome, and being this close to him sent shivers straight down your spine.

"Hey," you whispered, lightly tapping his cheek. He immediately came too, his head snapping up, his nostrils flaring wide as he took in your scent.

"Who...You smell so good," he mumbled, his eyes searching your face before reality hit him. "Please, you need to leave."

"Why?" You asked, reaching down to undo the ropes holding him to the chair. Sure, he was the one tied up, but you had this feeling he wasn't the bad person. "Who did this to you."

"Vampires," he explained, which wasn't an explanation at all. Your hands froze on the knots as you stared up at him, wondering if this man hadn't gotten a concussion. "You need to go before they come back."

"I can't leave you like this," you insisted to the man you had just met. Quickly you untied the remaining rope when the door slammed open and three men strode inside, eying you curiously.

"Who's this delectable piece of meat?" One asked, his lips lifting. You watched in shock as teeth, sharp pointy teeth, filled his mouth. Maybe the man behind you wasn't that delusional after all.

"Just a strange girl," he muttered. "Let her go. Your beef is with me." Your strange mystery man stayed in the chair even though you had undone the ropes enough for him to be free.

The main vampire, you still weren't' sure you believed your eyes, stalked you, his fangs still protruding. "Nah, I think she's just an added bonus. I can't wait to taste her sweet blood."

"Move," the amazing smelling man whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. Before you could blink he was out of his chair, pushing you to safety and decapitating the first vampire with ease.

As you crouched behind the storage cabinet, the other two vampires quickly lost their heads as well. You could see the man breathing hard, holding the machete tight in his hand. "Are they...are they gone?" You asked, and instantly his entire demeanor changed.

"They're gone," he assured you. "Are you okay?"

You nodded as he came around the storage rack, the machete tucked into the back of his pants. Within an instant, he pulled you into his arms, his lips crashing down on yours. You melted into his embrace. It felt like you were coming home, that this is where you had belonged all along.

"I'm Dean," he finally introduced himself as he slowly pulled away.

"Y/N," You answered, wanting nothing more than to have his lips against yours again.

"It was torture," he admitted. "I could smell you through that door, and I wanted nothing more than to rip those ropes off and find my mate."

"I...mate?" You choked out, the word surprising you, but it shouldn't have. You had both been drawn to each other, and the legend had been true.

"We have a lot to discuss," he continued. "Why don't we find a place that serves pie, and we can sit down and talk."

"My place," you automatically answered, knowing that nobody did pie like you. "I have a fresh-baked cherry pie."

"You're absolutely perfect," he exclaimed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "I knew this hunt was a good idea."