Mysteries of the Moon │The Zodiac Series

5.

❝She had spent so long devoid of light, yet she bloom like a rose in the dead of night ❞ - Lonely.penguin, poet

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I crinkle my nose in disgust, not being able to hold back my reaction to the foul smells wafting in the dinning room. There are too many foreign wolves here. Too many competing scents mixing with each other, fighting for authority in such a small space. 

My father always told me as little girl that my sense of smell was a gift from the Goddess. 

All wolves have a keen sense of smell, thanks to our inner wolves. But, mine is different. I am what is commonly called in our community as a tracker. Trackers tend to have a more advanced sense of smell, easily able to identify key notes in scents for specific packs. The most useful skill, however, was the memory bank.

A memory bank is a figurative way of explaining the catalogue I keep in my head of all the scents I've come across. It's like a photographic memory, except I am committing a scent to mind, and embedding it so I don't forget. It is specifically useful in times of war, because even after masking one's scent, a tracker can still identify them. 

My tracking abilities is probably my only saving grace, when it comes to my father tolerating my antics. He would never pass down his Alpha title to me, but I was still valuable. Sawyer was the obvious choice for the next Alpha, considering he was a male. Stupid sexist rules. 

"Have these people ever heard of a shower? They smell horrible." I hiss under my breath to Sawyer as we move through the dinning room, keeping to ourselves. I am not being completely honest with my comment, though. Not everyone smells horrid - strong notes of spicy cinnamon and coffee still dance in the air.

I keep my eyes trained on Sawyer, committed to avoiding that staring Beta from earlier. 

He laughs, "I don't think a shower will change that. It's just how they smell." 

The members of our pack all carried similar scents, only differing by intensity. I have grown accustom to the clean scents attached to our pack members; fresh cut grass and notes of honey. It was something I was familiar with. I couldn't stomach the Whitefire pack's scent the most. Every time we neared Alpha Rhett or Beta James, I held my breath. They lived closest to human territory, making their scent more polluted. It was like a waft of heavy smoke followed them around as they walked. 

A bell chimed through the dinning hall, catching everyone's attentions. It was custom in our pack to ring the dinning bell whenever food was about to be served. I let Sawyer lead, following him closer to our parents to snag a seat. The dinning room was relatively empty, only occupied by the councilmen, the Beta family, and us. Father had sent out a mindlink earlier to the pack, instructing them to stay away from the main pack house for the time being. His Alpha tone was intertwined in his mindlink, making it impossible to disobey without great discomfort.

I always hated when he used that tone. 

Two vacant seats were left open on either side of our parents. Sawyer was quick to steal the seat next to our mother, planting a kiss on her cheek as he did so. On his other side sat Alpha Rhett who seemed to already be deep in discussion with his Beta. I was left with no other choice but to sit next to my father. 

As I neared the open seat, my strides faltered. To my complete and utter horror, the man on the other side of my empty seat was Alpha Eli, accompanied by his suffocating Beta. It just my luck that the man I was trying to avoid was sitting nearly five feet away from me. I swallowed the lump of anxiety, silently taking my place next to my father.