Chapter 4 The Scent Of Her
- Caelan’s POV
- I felt her before I saw her.
- Like a ripple through the earth. A current that didn’t belong to any of the usual power lines we’re trained to sense. This wasn’t magic. It wasn’t rage. It was something older. Wilder. Buried.
- It pulled at the edge of my consciousness as I moved through the trees, the wind whispering in my ear like it knew her name before I did.
- And then I saw her.
- Crumbled at the base of an ancient ash tree, dress torn, legs scraped, hands covered in dirt and blood—but even broken, she was… radiant.
- The white wolf flickered in her aura, just under the skin.
- Rare. Sacred. Extinct.
- My jaw clenched.
- Raelin Thorne.
- She wasn’t supposed to be this far north. Her pack was still three territories away. But even if I hadn’t seen her face in the Council dossiers, even if I hadn’t memorized the curve of her jaw or the defiance in her eyes from across war tables—
- I would have known her.
- Because her scent doesn’t belong to any pack. It’s the smell of lightning over dry earth. Of winter before it falls. Of something ancient waiting to wake.
- And now that I’ve caught it—I know.
- She’s the reason I’m here.
- She moans, curling slightly, breath hitching as her body trembles. Her bond must still be active. I can feel it pulsing off her in waves—raw, wild agony laced with betrayal.
- She’s being ripped apart from the inside out.
- I take a slow step forward.
- She sees me. Barely.
- Her gaze meets mine—glass-gray and fading fast. Her lips part like she’s going to speak.
- She doesn’t.
- She blacks out before she can.
- I move then.
- Silently. Swiftly. No cloak of ceremony. No words.
- I kneel and slide my arms beneath her, lifting her against my chest. She’s smaller than I expected. Lighter. But her energy hums like it’s too big for her skin. Too loud to stay caged.
- It takes everything in me not to bury my face in her throat and breathe deep.
- But I do it anyway.
- My nose grazes the curve where her jaw meets her neck. And fuck—
- There it is.
- That power. That scent. That quiet storm.
- She smells like a Luna. Not just a Luna. Mine.
- My fingers flex on her waist.
- No.
- She isn’t mine.
- She’s not anyone’s. Not anymore.
- And that’s exactly why she matters.
- I take one last look around the forest, listening. No footsteps. No scents. No threats.
- But I keep her close anyway.
- Because something like this doesn’t go unnoticed for long.
- Wolves like her don’t just vanish into obscurity. Not for real. No matter how much the world tries to bury them. Power like this always finds its way back to the surface. Bleeding. Screaming. Reborn.
- And now that I’ve touched her—now that I’ve carried her into my arms—I know it’s already too late to stay uninvolved.
- I shift her slightly in my hold and turn back into the trees. My guards will be nearby—they’ll sense me coming. They’ll ask questions.
- Let them try to understand what’s about to walk into Nightborn territory and rewrite every law we thought mattered.
- She doesn’t know it yet, but this girl?
- This broken, bloodstained, betrayed she-wolf?
- She’s going to burn the world down.
- And I’m going to make sure she survives it.