A Werewolf's Unexpected Mate-Chapter 67: Scent of Danger

Ovelia’s POV

The rabbit’s sudden appearance made me exhale sharply, my death-grip on Ann’s fur loosening slightly as I watched its white tail disappear into the undergrowth. My shoulders slumped with relief - just a forest creature, nothing more. But Ann’s body remained rigid beneath me, her black ears swiveling like radar dishes as she sniffed the air in short, sharp bursts.

"Ann?" My voice came out thinner than I intended, barely above a whisper. "What’s wrong?"

Her muzzle wrinkled, exposing gleaming canines. "Something’s still in those bushes," she murmured, the words vibrating through her chest. "I can smell it but... I’ve never encountered a scent like this before." Her claws extended reflexively, digging shallow grooves in the soft earth.

My stomach dropped. The memory surfaced unbidden - those mysteriously vanishing food in the village, the vendors’ angry accusations with no culprit ever found. My fingers twitched against Ann’s fur. "You don’t think... could it really be a ghost this time?" The words left my mouth in a terrified whisper, barely audible over the rustling leaves.

Ann’s ears flattened briefly before she shook her massive head. "I don’t believe in ghosts," she said, though her voice lacked its usual conviction. She lowered her front quarters. "I need you to dismount, Lady Ovelia. I’m going to investigate."

My legs trembled as I slid down, the damp forest floor yielding slightly under my boots. Ann moved with predatory grace, her powerful haunches coiled as she advanced toward the suspicious foliage. Every careful step made barely a sound, her claws sheathed just enough to prevent rustling the undergrowth. I held my breath as she reached forward with one massive paw to part the tall grass -

A sudden gust tore through the clearing, sending dead leaves skittering across the ground and raising goosebumps along my arms. The bushes trembled violently as Ann shoved them aside, revealing... nothing.

My throat went dry. "A ghost? It has to be -"

"No, it’s not," Lady Firera’s voice cut sharply through my thoughts.

My pulse hammered against my ribs. "Then what was it?" I demanded mentally. Only silence answered me.

Ann turned back, her lupine features twisted in frustration. "Whatever it was, it’s gone now," she growled, nostrils flaring as she tested the air again. "The scent’s completely disappeared."

I forced my lips into what I hoped resembled a smile. "At least we didn’t actually see a ghost," I offered weakly. Ann’s answering smile didn’t reach her watchful eyes as she continued scanning the tree line.

She lowered herself beside me. "We’re losing time," she said, her voice regaining its usual steady tone. "Sir Ace’s scent trail is getting stronger - they can’t be far now."

As I climbed back onto her broad back, my fingers automatically found their familiar places in her fur. "I’m ready," I said, surprised at how steady my voice sounded despite the lingering unease coiling in my stomach.

"Hold tight!" Ann warned before launching forward with enough force to nearly dislodge me. The forest blurred around us as she accelerated, her powerful muscles driving us toward the flickering light ahead. The wind tore at my hair and clothes, but I barely noticed - my entire being focused on the desperate plea repeating in my mind:

Please be safe. Please wait for us. Please don’t do anything reckless.

•Northwest Thunoa Forest•

Ace’s POV

The forest floor gave way beneath my paws as we closed in on the bandit camp. Through the lattice of pine branches, firelight flickered like warning beacons. The murmur of voices—rough, laughing, unconcerned—drifted through the trees. My hackles rose at their casual confidence.

Ray’s arm shot out like a barricade, his claws unsheathing with a soft snikt. I skidded to a stop, sending Philip tumbling from my back with an undignified yelp. His body hit the damp earth with a thud that seemed to echo through the clearing.

"Ouch! Damn it—" Philip’s curse cut off as Ray and I simultaneously rounded on him, our ears flat against our skulls. The forest fell silent around us, every creature holding its breath. Philip froze mid-rub of his bruised elbow, his face paling as he realized his mistake. He scrambled up in a flurry of kicked-up leaves, brushing dirt from his trousers with frantic hands. "Sorry," he mouthed, shoulders hunched.

My attention snapped back to the camp as canvas rustled. Two figures emerged from the largest tent—one unmistakably Khaleed, the other a woman whose green-streaked hair caught the firelight like poisoned moss. My claws sank into the soil.

"Witch and traitor at twelve o’clock," I growled, my voice barely carrying past our huddle.

Philip squinted. "I see shapes, but—"

"—because you’re human," Ray and I finished in unison. I couldn’t help the slight curl of my lip.

Ray’s tail lashed behind him. "Traitor and bandit. How... poetic." His words dripped with enough venom to kill a lesser man.

The tent flaps parted again, and my blood turned to ice. The werewolf who emerged stood half a head taller than Ray, his matted black fur crusted with what looked like old blood. His black eyes glowed like banked coals as he scanned the tree line—directly toward us. The killing intent rolling off him pressed against my skin like a physical weight. My muscles locked.

Ray’s hand clamped around my arm, yanking me behind a broad oak. Bark scraped against my shoulder as we pressed flat. "Hide first," he breathed, his voice thinner than I’d ever heard it.

"You felt that?" My whisper came out strangled.

Ray’s nod was barely perceptible. "Like a knife between the ribs. He didn’t see us, but..." His claws flexed. "We need strategy, not stupidity."

Philip cleared his throat, his fingers tapping an anxious rhythm against his dagger hilts. "While you two have your werewolf telepathy moment, remember the fragile human needs briefing too." Despite the tension, his mouth quirked.

The shared glance Ray and I exchanged carried decades of understanding. "Thirteen werewolves," I murmured, counting off on my claws. "One witch. One traitor. Most already shifted."

Ray’s tail twitched. "Straight assault. I’ll carve through the grunts."

"I’ll back you and handle their alpha." My gaze shifted to Philip. "You take the witch and Khaleed. Fast and quiet."

Philip flipped his daggers, the blades catching moonlight. "Glass cannon and coward. My specialty." His grin didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Ray bumped his shoulder against mine—our version of a battle handshake. The plan was set. My muscles coiled, ready to—

A familiar scent punched through my focus. And beneath it, the unmistakable copper-tang of Ovelia’s fear. My head whipped around so fast my neck popped.

There, emerging from the bracken—Ann in full werewolf form, with Ovelia clinging to her back. My stomach dropped. What in the gods’ names were they doing here?