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There was something very sweet in her citric scent.
Very... mouthwatering.
He could never have anticipated that, not from someone as stern as her, how balanced her scent really was. In his desperation to keep her safe, he even doubted if it was enough to stop the beast— he hoped so, he hoped he could remember that unique and unexpected thought because he really needed to remember, he needed to-
He does. (How could he ever doubt?)
He remembers her then, after so many violent acts from that night and he remembers now.
Elsa.
She was here.
He moves and it's almost like a lucid dream at this point, so different from when he smells gunpowder or blood. He thought he would forget, that it wouldn't work—
Once.
—but the truth was that even in his human form he swore he could still feel the ghost of that taste on the tip of his tongue again and again and again. Lemon tarts.
“Jack?”
He sees her from behind the curtain, hesitating across the empty auditorium stage. Her hair is in a ponytail and she doesn't appear to be carrying any weapons. His chest fills with an urge to protect and protect and protect and why the hell is she here? It's not safe, not now, not with him in that form and certainly not with that Moon Knight guy nearby hunting him.
“I know you're there, I know you’re in there, so please, please come out,”
His eyes close at the request and he clenches his hands into fists, claws ripping through his skin, the pain doing little to control the beast. She's even closer now and unconsciously he leaves the darkness of the curtain, quietly approaching her and seeing firsthand the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end when she feels his bodyheat.
A low, guttural sound escapes his throat and Elsa turns, facing him. “Jack! It's me!”
I know, he means to say.
“It's me, Elsa,” She repeats, and though her voice is confident, her hands are shaking as she lifts them, palms empty showing no harm intend.
He meets her like a magnet, dragging his feet along the floor until her palms hit his chest and he tries, so hard, to keep his breath to a minimum, but the citric and sweetness invade his nostrils with full force and he feels his mouth wet with saliva. Lemon tart- no, no, it was just Elsa. Purely Elsa and he can't control the animal instinct to have a taste—
He leans over her and licks her face.
—She gasps against him, and shivers as he lowers his face to her neck. Oh, her scent. It’s making his wild heart slow down and peacefullness clear his thoughts, harmony taking over like nothing else ever has. Yes, he does recognizes her and so does the wolf in him and Jack is panicking upon the thoughts of mine, mine, mine, mine, mine that are repeating themselves in realization.
No, she wasn't his, she wasn't— she was his friend, but she wasn't his, not like that-
“Jack, wait-” She says with a breathless laugh. He pulls away to meet eyes that didn't dare look away. And she's smiling, her once pale cheeks are now red. “I- I missed you too,”
She never looked so beautiful.
So fertile.
He nearly jumps back at the thought, startled by the contentment the animal inside him feels.
“Jack?”
He grunts, shaking his head uneasily and taking her hand. He needed to get her out of here. It wasn't safe.
“Jack, wait, you don't understand,” She forces her feet against the floor, pulling her arm back. It's nothing against the strength he has, but he allows her to let go anyway. Anything for her. “I came because I can help,”
She... came for... what?
Elsa must see the confusion on his monstrous face, because she smiles again. “Hear me out, ‘okay...”
And he listens.