Her scent

Kael POV. As I walked through the crowd, my nose suddenly caught a very distinctive scent: Elara's body odor. It was faint, like a quick gust of wind, but unmistakable. I immediately turned around, scanning the other side of the street, searching among the cloaks and hoods that crowded together. My eyes couldn't find her anywhere. "Impossible." My wolf instincts screamed that she was here, but my logic flatly refused to accept it. There was no way that lone wolf girl would be foolish enough to come to the heart of Bloodmoon. That would be suicide, and it would make it easier for me to catch her here. The soldiers around me, plus the crowd of Bloodmoon citizens gathering again, made me doubt my own instincts. Was that girl really here, or was she just an illusion created by my stressed brain? I wanted so badly to catch her and make her my Mate as soon as possible to end this damn curse crawling under my skin. I paused for a moment, causing my soldiers behind me to freeze as well. I took a deep breath, trying to distinguish the scent. The smell of smoke, sweat, and food overwhelmed everything. I could only detect a faint trace of that strong scent, then it vanished. "Keep going," I ordered the nearest soldier coldly, forcing myself to move. But I knew that if it was really Elara, the game would soon change. And this time, I would win the hunt. "What's wrong, sir?" whispered Irvine, my right-hand Beta, his voice respectful yet alert. "Why do you look so troubled?" I turned my head slightly, meeting his gaze, and immediately composed my face to remain dignified and unmoved by emotion, especially in front of my people. I couldn't appear weak or distracted. I let out a nearly inaudible sigh, then cast a cold glance around. "Nothing, Irvine. Don't worry about it." I dismissed his concern with Alpha arrogance. "Maybe it's because it's too crowded today. It seems like the people are also happy because of the good weather." I don't want to tell the truth. I won't let Irvine know that my instincts—which have never been wrong—have just warned me that the most beautiful disaster I've ever sought, Elara, may already be within the gates of Bloodmoon. I continued walking, projecting dominance once more. But inside, my mind was racing: If she’s really here, this isn’t a hunt anymore. It’s a trap. A trap I’ll turn into a wedding. Irvine invited me back into the Crimson Chariot. It wasn't just a carriage; it was a magnificent two-wheeled chariot, a special vehicle that had become a symbol of the power of the former Bloodmoon Alphas. The chariot was pulled by two large, jet-black horses with eyes as red as blood, a sight that always reminded anyone of the power of our pack. I stepped inside, sitting gracefully yet authoritatively in the thick leather-upholstered chair. Irvine followed, closing the compartment door with a solid click. "The meeting with the Elders is waiting, sir," Irvine whispered, his tone formal and reminding me of the responsibilities that awaited me every day as an Alpha. “I know,” I replied, my gaze fixed straight ahead, toward the towering Palace. I had to return immediately. The council meeting was important, but thinking about Elara’s faint scent felt more urgent. I needed to secure the palace—not from outside enemies, but from the only lone wolf who dared to enter my territory. I was sure she was already here, I just didn't know exactly where she was. "Speed up the carriage, Irvine," I ordered coldly, without looking at him. "I don't like to wait, especially not to keep the Council waiting. We're going straight to the Council Hall." The Crimson Chariot sped up. When we arrived at the Palace, a building that radiated such immense power, the guards on duty immediately gave me obedient, stiffly bowed looks. I hurriedly stepped out of the carriage and headed straight for the Council Hall. The day was getting late, and my pile of work would not wait. I forced myself to put aside thoughts of Elara's scent for a moment. When I arrived at the Council Hall, a large room with a high, cold ceiling, the elders behind the long stone table had already gathered. Their old faces were pale and fearful. They stood and bowed respectfully in unison when I entered the room. "Look." Those fearful old faces—they always trembled, never daring to defy a single word I said, even though they knew I was a threat. That was absolute power. "Sit," I said briefly, my voice breaking the silence with undeniable authority. I walked to the seat at the far end, the one that was made taller and larger, and sat down heavily. They immediately followed my command, returning to their respective seats. Irvine placed a thick stack of work papers on the table in front of me; the elders also had a similar workload. I looked at them one by one, my gaze sharp and judgmental. "So," I said, taking full control of the room. "What are we going to discuss today?" One of the elders, whose face was adorned with intricate ancient tattoos, began to speak. I focused my gaze on him, silently signaling him to continue. "Sir," his voice was hoarse but careful. "The humans who know of our existence have begun to request our Elite Guard Service. They are cunning, wealthy humans who want to secure their ill-gotten gains. The requests have increased dramatically since last month." He handed over a thick rag paper containing a list of service requests. I read it calmly and carefully. The increase was quite significant, and this was one of the Bloodmoon pack's biggest income sources to date. We were known as a powerful pack with unquestionably elite soldiers, so Bloodmoon made it an official service for anyone who wanted to hire our military protection. Moreover, the income from these greedy humans was enormous. They did not hesitate to spend as much money as necessary to protect their ill-gotten gains. Humans were indeed creatures easily controlled by money. "What about our troop supplies?" I asked, putting the report back down, my gaze sharp. "Are they sufficient for this increasing demand? I don't want this service to take away from our pack's core forces." "The supply of troops for this service is increasing, sir," replied the elder quickly. "We still have many soldiers available. In addition, many soldiers return home after their service period with each service provider ends, and they are also reassigned to new service providers." I nodded in satisfaction. Money was power, and I knew how to use it. I wanted Bloodmoon to be strong not only militarily, but also economically. The large pack I led had to be solid in all sectors, so that no force, human or wolf, would dare to destroy it. We discussed many technical matters after that, from logistics to mapping the territory. Until finally, the conversation turned to the thing I hated the most: the pressure for me to find a Mate for the sake of the Bloodmoon pack's continuity. To them, I was their only hope. These elders, foolishly, couldn't understand what I wanted and meant all along. They were too old-fashioned and clung to the ancient laws that applied. "Sir, we understand that you still want to be alone—" I immediately interrupted, my voice sharp and cutting him off mid-sentence. "No. You don't understand! I've also wanted to get married and mate with a woman for a long time, but that's not how it works." I leaned forward, my eyes threatening. "You know I'm under a deadly curse that requires me to mate with that lone wolf girl! Only she can break the curse that will kill me, and only she can be my wife!" The other Elders' faces tensed. "Sir, the curse can be broken in other ways. And, Sir, you cannot marry a woman from another pack, especially one that has been destroyed and no longer exists. You must marry a Bloodmoon noble, so that the purity of the bloodline continues to flow." BANG! I slammed my fist down on the table with all my might. Glasses, pens, and papers were scattered everywhere. The loud noise shook the entire room. All the elders were startled and bowed their heads, trembling with fear. "Don't ever talk to me about blood purity again!" I growled, my voice low and dangerous, yet powerful enough to pierce the silence. I stood up, throwing my chair back so that it scraped against the stone floor. "I decide what is pure and what I must do in this pack!" I leaned forward, both hands resting on the table, my gray eyes staring at each of the pale, trembling old faces. "Listen carefully," I whispered, my tone now calmer, but with a promise of death hidden within. "If you continue to obstruct me or dare to question my decisions again, I will not hesitate to throw you into the palace dungeon. I will leave you in the dark basement and feed you to my pet monsters." The threat worked. The air in the room felt thin and cold. The Elders bowed their heads even lower, not even daring to breathe heavily—all submissive to my anger. Then, amid the silent tension, the scent came again. It was faint, almost undetectable, as if carried by an invisible wind. Elara's scent. I suddenly scanned the entire room. Damn it, where was that girl? Was this just my Elara-filled brain playing tricks on me, making it seem like she was around here, playing with my sanity, which was threatened by the curse? My instincts were never wrong, but this time, the lack of evidence made it feel like a delusion. I couldn't hold it in any longer. Without saying a word, I immediately stepped out quickly, leaving the Council Hall, surprising all the elders, guards, and even Irvine. I pushed open the large door to the Council Hall with force. The sound of the door hitting the wall echoed down the corridor. I walked quickly and decisively, following the instinct that was now screaming inside me. I had to make sure. If Elara were truly inside my palace, I would find her. Now.