The first thing Isolde noticed when she woke was that something was wrong-the air felt wrong.
The second thing was the way everyone looked at her.
Everyone just gave her strange looks.
(Morning Confusion)
The den was stirring with its usual morning routines: the pups were squeaking, warriors were sharpening their weapons ahead of training, the kitchen fires already lit up in anticipation for the breakfast preparations. Isolde rose from her bed of woven furs, stretching the tiredness from her limbs after another restless night.
But all of a sudden, she experienced
A sharp intake of breath.
Followed by whispers.
Her roommate Brinna stopped mid-step as she carried a basket of dirty clothes for washing past Isolde's bed. Her nose moved with abrupt uncontrolled motions not once but twice, and then her eyes widened as though she'd seen a ghost.
"Isolde," Brinna breathed, with a shaking voice. "You—your scent…"
Isolde frowned and said. "What about it?"
Brinna set the basket down too quickly; socks fell to the floor sharply and suddenly. She leaned closer, sniffing cautiously, her face was then caught between awe and alarm.
"It's different. Completely different."
This smell is not the Isolde I know, Brinna said.
"What do you mean?" Isolde asked with a raised eyebrow
Brinna stepped back as in a bid to search for the right words that will help her describe Isolde. Finally, Brinna said to Isolde "You don't smell like an omega anymore. Or even like yourself. You smell—" She hesitated, before saying what she had been searching for the right word to use. "—like moonfire."
(The Stir)
Word traveled fast. Too fast, within few seconds.
As she was approaching the breakfast hall, different thoughts were running in her mind. By the time Isolde finally reached the breakfast hall, every head turned towards her directions. Conversations had an abrupt end. Utensils came to a pause mid air.
The scent was so so inescapable and strong—strange, heady, layered. It carried an almost electric undertone that pierced the senses with so much power. Some wolves inhaled sharply as if they were drawn to it. Others recoiled like it burned their throats.
Alpha Theron himself took a sudden pause in the middle of greeting the morning patrol, his nostrils were burning with excruciating pain. His silver gaze locked precisely on Isolde with something unexplained and unreadable—half curiosity, half suspicion.
Kael, standing closeby to his father, stiffened. His hand twitched as though wanting to reach for Isolde, but rather it turned into a fist at his side.
"Isolde," Alpha Theron called out softly yet in an even manner. His deep voice cutting through the silence. "Step forward."
Her legs felt heavy, but she obeyed since she didn't have any options.
The Alpha circled her slowly, assessing. The pack held their breaths in a collective manner as if they took a pause.
Finally, Alpha Theron spoke. "Her scent has shifted."
A murmur spread across the hall.
"All of a sudden?!"
"Changed overnight."
"This is so unnatural…"
"She smells so offensive of power."
"She smells so offensive of danger."
Isolde swallowed in pains, her pulse shot up suddenly. "I just can't explain, I woke up and this is what I saw"
"Silence." Alpha Theron tone was subtle sharp but it was not cruel. He lifted his hand, to create such a calm environment to silence the growing unease. "This is not ordinary. No wolf's scent changes without cause."
(The Triplets' Reaction)
Kael stepped forward to Isolde defense suddenly. "Father, there is nothing wrong with the smell. It is just… different."
Alpha Theron scoffed. "Different! You say? She smells like a storm waiting for the right time to explode. Like something out of the normal" His dark eyes scanning the whole of Isolde, giving a sharp and accusing look. "If she can't control herself, she'll bring ruin." He said this to himself.
The youngest brother, Dax, shifted his head, taking in rapid breaths with a loss of courage intensity. His lips shifted into a hard to explain kind of smile. "It's intoxicating. Like the first breath before a hunt." His voice lowered, hungry. "I like it."
Kael shoved him lightly. "Don't even dare."
"What? I'm only being honest." Dax replied sarcastically.
The brothers' exchange made the hall buzz even louder. Some warriors were seriously uncomfortable with the scent, while others leaned closer as if bewitched by the scent themselves.
(Isolation)
By mid-morning, Isolde had ran as fast as her legs could carry her outside the hall.
She couldn't bear the stares, the whispers, the way her scent seemed to fill every room before she even stepped inside. Even when wolves tried to ignore her, they couldn't ignore her because of the intensity of her scent.
She scrubbed her body with intensity at the stream, trying to wash the scent away, but the scent rather clung deeper into her skin. It practically lived in her blood.
Frustration kicked in, and out of annoyance she kicked the water until it splashed so high. "What's happening to me?" she cried to no one.
A rustle came up behind her.
Kael!!!
He came to her front, cautious but determined, his eyes were saying something different from others yet it was soft-concern.
"Isolde." Kael called out.
She looked up to her face because he was taller than her. Then she spoke, "Don't. Don't say it. Don't tell me I smell different. Don't look at me like I'm—like I'm a stranger." Please!!!!
He took a pause and said. "But you do smell different. Stronger. Wilder. It's like the moon branded you in your sleep." and yeah, that's a fact.
She wrapped her arms around herself. "And what if that makes me dangerous? What if others are right?"
Kael shook his head firmly. "I have studied most of them to know that they feed on fear. But I know you. This—whatever it is—it's still you. Just something more."
Her breath took a different pattern. His words warmed and consoled her, but also frightened and kept her on her toes. More!!! What did that even mean? Isolde wondered.
(The Elder's Wisdom)
By evening, Elder Varian summoned her to the stone circle at the edge of the forest. The atmosphere was smelling faintly of herbs and smoke.
Elder Varian stood waiting, her wolfish eyes glowing faintly in the dusk. "So, what is this that I'm hearing from the pack? They say that your scent has changed."
Isolde sat across from her, trembling slightly. "I don't know why. I wish I could explain."
Elder Varian studied her for a long time critically with focus, then leaned closer and took a deep inhale. Then, all of a sudden; a flicker of recognition crossed her face.
"Ah." Elder Varian exclaimed.
"What? What is it?" Isolde looking scared asked.
Elder Varian's voice was grave. "This is no ordinary shift. You smell of old magic—lunar binding, perhaps even divine touch."
"Divine?" Isolde couldn't believe her ears.
"The Moon Goddess leaves marks on her chosen ones. Sometimes, she leaves it in the eyes. Or sometimes in the blood and in the scent which is a very rare occurrence. You are no longer a mere wolf, my child. You are… marked."
Isolde's heart pounded heavily. "Not again!!!Marked for what now?"
Elder Varian shook her head slowly. "That remains to be seen."
(Conflict in the Pack)
The following days were unbearable.
Some wolves avoided her because they believed she carried evil omens and curses. Others were too attracted and were intoxicated by her scent, unable to resist but not understanding why.
During training, sparring partners grew distracted, noses twitching, eyes unfocused. A simple drill would end with someone losing balance and concentration, simply because of her presence.
Brinna remained by her side, fierce in her loyalty. Brinna encouraged Isolde saying "They'll get over it," she said. "You're not a curse. You're Isolde."
But the whispers never stopped.
Rather it multiplied.
She is changing.
She is not one of us anymore.
She is dangerous.
(A Night in the Clearing)
One night, unable to sleep, Isolde wandered into the clearing where the barrier stones shined in a blur manner. She sat among them in perplexity, staring at the moon.
"Why me?" she whispered. "Why can't I just be normal? Why must everything I touch change?"
The air stirred and gave a response, and for a heartbeat she thought she heard the faintest whisper carried on by the wind.
"Because you were never meant to be normal."
She shivered.
(The Triplets Confront Her)
The following morning, all three brothers sought her out.
Riven leaned casually against a tree, smiling in a silly manner and looking so unrepentant. "You do realize half the pack is restless because of you. They can't focus. You're driving them mad."
"That's not my fault!" Isolde snapped.
"Maybe not," Dax interjected coldly. "But it's still happening. And what happens when madness turns to violence? When someone acts on it?"
Kael stepped forward, glaring at his brothers. "Enough. It's not her fault, she didn't choose this. And she won't face it alone."
The tension crackled between them like lightning.
Isolde could only stand there, heart racing, torn between gratitude for Kael's defense and dread at the truth in Dax's words.
(Resolution)
That night, Brinna sat beside her close to the fire.
"Listen," Brinna said softly, "scent is our identity in this world of ours. It tells others who we are. But maybe yours changing doesn't mean you're losing yourself rather it could mean you're becoming what you were always meant to be-what you're destined for."
Isolde stared into the flames. "And what if what I'm meant to be destroys everything?"
Brinna sighed and squeezed her hand. "Then we'll find a way to build something new from the ashes." Trust me!!
Isolde's chest tightened, she had to brace herself for the task ahead and for the first time since waking to this strange new scent, she allowed herself to breathe deeply. The fragrance that clung to her wasn't just alien—it was hers now.
Whether it was a curse or a blessing, she would learn to carry it and live with it.