Page 24 of Altius (The Scent of Victory #2)

Alijah nodded. “I’ll order one with you. That way we can both be virgins.”

Morgan snorted into her water, and I wasn’t much better off.

“Fine, fine,” she said, dabbing at her now-wet chin. “I give up. Order whatever you want, you purveyors of fun.”

When the server returned with our assortment of burgers and fries, Alijah ordered two virgin jalapeno margaritas and a fresh beer for me.

We hadn’t managed to take more than a few bites when a wave of watery sweetness, like honeydew melon, invaded the table.

A woman with a platinum blonde pixie cut rushed up to Morgan with a beaming smile. I recognized her as Morgan’s companion from the udon restaurant the other week and whispered as much to Alijah.

“I thought it was you!” She plopped down beside Morgan on the bench for a brief hug. “I was going to call you later, but this is even better. Guess what? I got matched!”

“Of course you did, Christine,” Morgan said, beaming with pride. “And they’re lucky to have you. Where?”

“Michigan, but it’s an amazing program. The second-choice fellowship placement blessing lives on!”

Stale cedar and flannel, like a moth-filled attic, and a suffocating cloud of patchouli threatened to ruin my appetite.

Two alphas pressed closer to the booth, eyes shifting between us and Christine, but lingering the longest on Morgan. She ignored them, only interested in asking Christine for details about her fellowship placement.

The stench intensified.

Christine’s nose wrinkled, and she shot a warning look over her shoulder before turning back to Morgan with a smile. “You remember Lambert and Romero, don’t you?”

“Oh.” Morgan aimed for her characteristic neutral, but her eyes were blank.

She had no idea who these two stinky assholes were.

“Nice to see you again.” Her attention returned to Christine. “Are you guys out celebrating?”

Christine nodded, “Yeah, we—”

“Want to join us?” one of the alphas asked.

“No, thanks,” Morgan said without skipping a beat. “Wouldn’t be fair to my friends here.” She placed a hand on Christine’s shoulder. “But let’s grab dinner soon. I want to hear all about your fellowship, okay?”

“Deal.” Christine hugged her and then got up, motioning for the alphas to start walking. Once they were out of earshot, she leaned over the table and winked at me. “Nice to see you again, neighbor .”

Morgan rolled her eyes and took a bite of her burger.

Alijah asked about the fellowship matching process, which Morgan patiently explained until the server returned with our drinks.

She picked up her glass and took a sip, but Alijah stalled out, brows furrowed in uncertainty.

“Smells a lot stronger than I expected.” He took a hesitant sniff, then offered it to me. “Does that have alcohol in it?”

I took a drink and shook my head. “No. Just spicy.”

“Oh.” Alijah’s scent turned bitter. Someone was happier with his whiskey sour and didn’t want to admit it.

“I’ll drink it if you want,” Morgan said, seemingly in response to his body language rather than his scent.

Picking up my burger, I found the bun now reeked of patchouli. I set it back down, pushing the plate away until the ventilation system could remove the offending smell.

“How do you do that?” I asked. “Just ignore alphas when they’re putting out pheromones around you.”

She tried to hide her evasive glance with a shrug.

“Yeah,” Alijah said, toying with the saltshaker, “I’ve wondered about that too. An entire stadium full of people can be screaming at the top of their lungs, ready to explode if the Narwhals don’t score. Meanwhile, you go about your business like it’s got nothing to do with you.”

That reminded me of her behavior around Tabitha at the housewarming. Most people couldn’t withstand the intensity of a highly dominant alpha’s scent, especially when they exerted pressure. But they’d talked for almost an hour.

And tonight, while dealing with competing flirtatious pheromones from me, Alijah, and those other two alphas, her pupils didn’t react. Breathing didn’t change. She didn’t deviate from her course of questions and spoke to Christine without a single stutter.

She’d never backed down when facing Owen, wavered when Alijah was being sweet to her, or bristled when I leered at her.

Even Wyatt, who was quite literally dying to be with Morgan, couldn’t get a reaction.

And Cal…

I regarded her with a critical eye.

Had Cal ever emitted pheromones around her during the weekend we took care of her? No, I don’t think he had.

But why? Unless…

Pulling out my phone, I did a quick internet search for TBI and loss of smell. The results confirmed my suspicions, yet I didn’t want them to be true.

“The term you’re looking for is anosmia,” she said quietly, taking another sip of her virgin margarita.

Alijah pressed against my arm to read my phone screen. A quiet gasp escaped his lips, and he looked at Morgan. “I saw that mentioned in your heat paperwork, but didn’t know what it meant. Why haven’t you ever said anything?”

“Because it’s safer that way.”

She flagged down the server to order Alijah a new whiskey sour.

“There’s already enough speculation about me on the internet. And,” she said with carefully imbued lightness, “I don’t like people feeling sorry for me.”

My alpha pulsed with anger.

Morgan was an unmated omega, working in a predominantly male environment, which catered to alphas— without a sense of smell— and Cal had never said a word about it to us. Hell, I bet he’d never even tried to stop her.

Rather than act on my first impulse to speed home and seize Cal by the throat, I gripped the edge of the bench. My words twisted into a contemptuous growl. “Are you out of your mind?”

“No, but thanks for asking.” Her lips forced out a smile of mild derision. “Just stubborn as fuck.”

“It’s dangerous, Morgan.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” She gave me a flat stare. “I’m an omega, Joaquin. There’s always a risk, no matter what I do.”

“But not being able to smell…” Alijah repeatedly tapped the saltshaker against the tabletop.

“I can’t imagine how hard that must be for you, but you’ve adapted, haven’t you?

It doesn’t get in the way of your job. You’re always the most focused and genuine person in the room, whose top priority is keeping the players healthy. ”

He let out a small laugh and slid the saltshaker away.

“No wonder you don’t react when the players or staff try to flirt with you. They just think you’re ignoring them, or that you can’t pick up their scent because of all the ventilation and scent-canceling spray in campus buildings. No one’s ever realized that you can’t smell anything, have they?”

“Only Cal.”

“The pheromone stud had to do something to earn his title,” I sneered, enjoying the surprised lift of her brow. “Like Owen would keep that bit of hot gossip to himself.”

The ever-pragmatic Morgan redirected us to the topic at hand.

“Part of the reason Cal encouraged me to include you in my heat is because I… I struggle with maintaining prolonged arousal. We’ve found a few workarounds, but there’s no guarantee I’ll enjoy the experience.

If you haven’t read the full offer yet, don’t be surprised when you see the list of caveats. ”

“I was wondering about those.” Alijah’s head tilted to the side as he stared at her. “You asked Owen to facilitate because Cal can’t. As much as he—and we—would like to maintain control and always be mindful of your needs, your pheromones…”

Alijah gazed out the window with a self-deprecating smile and laughed, the sound more air than mirth. As if he’d only just discovered how weak he was for Morgan Van Daal.

“I’m a goner.” He leaned against my side. “We’re both goners.”

“That’s why I need someone logical at the helm—especially since this is just sex. And there’s no one I trust more than Owen to not be attracted to me.”

My fingers flexed against my jeans. I was confident she was wrong about Owen. He was into her even if he didn’t know how to express it yet.

But if correcting her cost us this chance…

I couldn’t take that risk. Especially since Alijah and I wanted a lot more with Morgan in the future than just sex.

“Count us in. That goes for Owen, too.” I showed her Cal’s latest texts, carefully avoiding the ones where he cursed me out for stealing his truck and going rogue. “He’s with Cal and Wyatt, filling out the paperwork right now.”

“Thank you, guys,” she said with visible relief as the server arrived with Alijah’s drink. “Thank you so much—but this still counts as one of our lunch dates.”