Chapter Five – The Scent of Fate
Rowan thundered through the dense underbrush of the forest, his paws tearing over moss and roots, branches whipping against his fur as he followed the fading trail of that scent—the one that had burrowed into his chest and refused to let go. It had clung to the air like mist after the battle, sweet and sharp and deeply alluring.
‘Mate.’ His wolf howled inside him. She had been there. Close. Real.
Moonlight filtered through the trees, silvery streaks painting the forest floor. The mountains rose ahead like ancient sentinels, jagged and endless, their peaks veiled in low-hanging clouds. Rowan pushed himself harder, leaping over fallen logs and dodging thorny brambles. He didn’t care about the sting. His only thought was her.
‘She’s close,’ his wolf urged, restless and wild. ‘We must find her.’
“I’m trying,” Rowan growled aloud, his voice rough in the hush of the woods. “But the trail—she just vanished.”
They had run for hours now, retracing the outer edge of the battle site and scaling up into the forested slope of the mountain, where the air thinned and the ground turned to gravel beneath his feet. But just as suddenly as the scent had appeared, it was gone. Cut clean.
‘Keep searching,’ his wolf snarled. ‘She is ours.’
Rowan stood at the edge of a cliff overlooking the forest, panting, his heart heavy with the weight of hope and the sting of disappointment. The trail ended here—no scent, no tracks. Nothing but wind and stone.
Just as he turned to retrace his steps, a sharp tug hit his mind.
‘Alpha Rowan,’ came the familiar mental voice of Elder Bram. ’Report to the council chamber immediately.’ He sighed, the urgency in their tone leaving no room for argument. With a final glance at the mountains, he turned back, the weight of responsibility pressing heavily on his shoulders.
‘We can't give up,’ his wolf growled as they descended, ‘She's out there.’
With a growl of frustration, Rowan shifted back into his human form, pulling on the spare clothes tied to his shift-belt. His wolf paced within him, snarling at the interruption. “We’ll keep searching,” Rowan muttered to himself as he started the trek back. “We’ll find her. No matter what.”
‘They’ll never understand,’ his wolf said darkly. ‘They want control. Not love.’
By the time he reached the packhouse, dawn had broken, casting long orange light across the stone walls and tidy hedges. He was tired, worn from the effort, but his resolve hadn’t waned.
Inside the council chamber, five elders sat in a semicircle, their expressions ranging from impatience to disdain.
“You were missing,” Elder Hadric barked the moment Rowan entered. “Your warriors returned hours ago. Why weren’t you with them?”
Rowan crossed his arms, jaw clenched. “I stayed behind. I caught a scent—one I couldn’t ignore.”
The room stilled. “A scent?” Elder Dalia narrowed her eyes.
“My mate,” Rowan said firmly. “She was there. I know it.”
Gasps echoed, followed quickly by dismissive scoffs. “Impossible,” Elder Garran muttered. “There was no other she-wolf reported.”
Rowan’s eyes narrowed. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“Of course not,” Dalia said calmly, though her voice held an edge. “But you’re our Alpha. Your duty lies here, not chasing phantoms into the forest.”
Rowan stepped forward, his voice low and dangerous. “That scent wasn’t a dream. It was real. And she’s mine.”
The elders exchanged glances before Elder Bram leaned forward. “You already chose Rhea.”
“I agreed to court her if I couldn’t find my mate in three months,” Rowan growled. “I still have over two months left.”
“You waste it, running after a rogue,” Hadric snapped.
Elder Liora interjected, "We understand the importance of mates, but the pack's stability cannot be compromised."
Rowan met their gazes, unwavering, "I will not neglect my duties. But I cannot ignore this either."
“She could be anyone,” Elder Ryna added. “And even if she is your mate, that doesn’t mean she’s Luna material.”
“She’s mine,” Rowan snarled, his wolf pushing forward with the threat of a shift. “She will be Luna. I will not be manipulated into mating someone else.”
A heavy silence fell.
Finally, Elder Bram gestured to the side, where Rhea stood quietly in the shadows. Her expression was unreadable, but something sharp glinted behind her eyes. Rowan’s breath caught. Guilt twisted inside him. He had promised her a chance. And now…
‘She knew the deal,’ his wolf reminded him. ‘She was a placeholder. Nothing more.’
The elders pressed again, urging Rowan to reconsider his priorities, to think of the pack and its future. The debate dragged on for several more minutes, each word testing his patience until finally, Bram sighed.
“Very well. We won’t strip your time, Alpha. But you must be prepared. If you fail to find her, Rhea will be your bride. No more delays.”
Rowan’s lips curled into a snarl, but he gave a tight nod. “I will find her.”
They dismissed him with curt nods, murmuring to one another as Rowan turned on his heel and stormed out of the chamber, his steps echoing with fury.
‘They’d chain us down,’ his wolf rumbled. ‘We’ll rip the world apart if we have to, but we will not give her up.’
‘I know,’ Rowan murmured, running a hand through his hair. ‘No one will stop us. No one.’
Footsteps approached from behind. Rowan turned just as Rhea came up beside him, her soft features tight with restraint. “You’re angry,” she said quietly.
He frowned, unsure of what to expect. “You should be too.”
“I am,” she replied. “But not at you.” She looked up at him with something unreadable in her gaze. “You promised you would choose your mate, Alpha. I will hold you to that.” Then she turned and walked down the hall, her long braid swaying behind her.
Rowan stood there, stunned, heart thudding as her words echoed in his head.
Hope surged inside him, burning away some of the frustration and despair. He didn’t have her yet—his mate—but she was out there. Alive. Waiting.
And he would find her.
No matter what.
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