Except from Bound by War
The cooling unit kicked on, and a breeze drifted across him. It brought with it a tantalizing scent. Brine. Salt. Seaweed. Tangy, but coldly fresh and invigorating. Made him think of sunlight reflecting off gently rolling waves and warm breezes.
Every nerve lit up, but his body was still mostly uncooperative. That scent belonged to someone. Stars above, he wanted to hunt the owner of that scent down, subdue them, and carry them back to his dwelling. He’d provide for them and kill any male who came too close.
He was used to the odors of blood, sweat, and the atmospheric bitter scent of a discharged phasers. Added into that was often anger, which had its own acidic flavor. He’d lived with that one for longer than he cared to remember. But this scent made him hunger for something he’d never had before: a partner.