The Moon's Scent
1011 Words
Chapter 6: The Moon's Scent
The air was heavy with the scent of moss and mist. Sandy stood barefoot in the forest, the soil damp beneath her toes. A thick silence wrapped around her as the trees loomed like ancient sentinels under the shroud of night. Above, the full moon bathed the forest in silver light. She looked around, heart pounding but unafraid. Something about this place, though dark and unfamiliar, felt like home.
A low growl behind her made her tense.
Slowly, she turned.
There, emerging from the shadows, was a massive black wolf. Its coat shimmered like obsidian under the moonlight, and its golden eyes burned like twin suns. It didn’t snarl. It sniffed the air, took a step closer, then another, until its nose was nearly brushing her.
Sandy stood her ground, oddly calm.
The wolf bowed its head, nuzzling her hand gently.
Her fingers moved on their own, stroking through its thick fur. The wolf purred. It wasn’t the growl of danger she’d expected—it was something like affection, like a promise she didn’t understand yet.
Then the moon brightened suddenly, blinding her.
She gasped and woke up.
Sandy shot up in bed, her heart thudding. The dream lingered like a scent in her mind—the forest, the moon, the wolf.
What did it mean?
She rubbed her eyes and sighed. "Just a dream," she murmured, though something inside her whispered otherwise.
---
Across town, Zayne Carter woke up with a jolt.
He was drenched in sweat, and his sheets tangled around his legs. His wolf was pacing, snarling, agitated inside him.
"What the hell was that?" he muttered, his voice hoarse.
The dream had been vivid—he had seen a girl in their pack’s forest, standing under the moon like a goddess. Her scent had hooked itself into his brain: cinnamon and cookies. Her hair... it shimmered like moonlight, though he never saw her face clearly.
But his wolf had seen enough.
Mate.
Zayne ran a hand through his hair, feeling a storm brewing inside him.
It can't be her.
It just... can't.
He pulled on his hoodie, yanked his door open, and stormed out without a word. Even Marisa, who had slept over, frowned at his sudden exit.
---
Sandy's morning went by without incident, but her head was filled with clouds.
She walked to school wrapped in her purple hoodie and sweatpants, her mind still trying to shake off the images from her dream. A strange warmth had settled in her chest, and her body tingled in a way she didn’t understand.
When she arrived at school, she noticed something different.
Zayne didn’t bother her.
He was always at the gates, always tossing insults or shoulder-checking her as she walked past. But today, he just stood there. His eyes locked on her. Watching. Not saying a word.
Sandy met his eyes for a second—those golden-brown eyes filled with confusion, maybe even pain—then looked away. She walked past him, expecting the usual laughter from his boys, but even they were silent.
"What was that about?" one of them whispered.
Zayne didn’t answer. His fists clenched at his sides.
No.
No, no, no.
It’s not her.
But it was. His wolf growled again, pacing. Demanding.
Mine.
Zayne didn’t make it to first period. Instead, he turned around and bolted out of the school, disappearing into the woods. He stripped down, letting his wolf take over.
He needed to run.
---
Sandy’s day continued without issue. Her classmates seemed to notice something was different, but no one said anything. One of the girls from class, Mia, approached her in the library.
"Hey," she said awkwardly. "That was pretty badass what you did to Zayne the other day."
Sandy glanced up from her textbook.
Mia twirled her pen between her fingers. "I mean... I know I didn’t step in or anything. I should have. I'm sorry."
Sandy's face remained impassive.
"Thanks," she said flatly, then returned to her reading.
The silence hung thick. Mia eventually walked away.
Forgiveness wasn’t something Sandy handed out like candy. Especially not to those who had stood and watched her suffer.
---
That afternoon, she made her way to the cafe.
Mrs. Lowell greeted her with a warm smile. "You look tired, darling. Rough day?"
Sandy hesitated. Then, surprisingly, she smiled.
"Just... weird."
Mrs. Lowell reached over the counter and patted her hand. "Well, weird is better than miserable. And you look beautiful in that sweater."
Sandy chuckled softly. "Thank you."
The rest of her shift passed quietly. She wiped down tables, made drinks, studied in between orders. The smell of coffee and warm pastries grounded her. This place was her sanctuary.
---
Later that night, at home, Sandy was greeted by an unexpected moment.
As she stepped inside, her father looked up from the couch. His expression was unreadable.
"Hey," he said.
She blinked.
He stood and walked over to her. Then, gently, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"Good work today."
Sandy froze.
Her breath caught in her throat, and she could feel her eyes stinging. She didn’t trust it, not entirely. But it felt nice. And confusing.
"Thanks," she whispered.
He nodded once and walked away.
---
Meanwhile, deep in the forest, Zayne lay curled in his wolf form beneath the twisted roots of an a ncient tree. His breathing was ragged, his mind still spinning.
His wolf wanted her.
Claim her.
But how could he?
He had bullied her. Humiliated her. Ignored her existence for so long.
And now?
Now she was the one person the universe had chosen for him?
"No," he growled to himself.
But the wind carried the scent again—cinnamon and cookies.
And all he could do was howl at the moon, his voice echoing in the trees.
Mate.
---
Back in her room, Sandy slipped under her covers, eyes on the ceiling.
She touched her forehead where her father had kissed her.
"Weird day," she whispered.
And the strange thing?
She wasn’t afraid of tomorrow.
- Writer
