I Wolf You!

"Every time I look at the moon, I'm reminded that distance may keep us apart, but it can never take away the sky we both look up to."

-Akshit Abrol

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At seventeen, Rose had already decided what falling in love and meeting her soulmate were supposed to feel like.

She had never been in love, of course. She had never even kissed anyone, and the thought of doing so made her more embarrassed than excited.

But she had grown up surrounded by stories, whispered conversations, old family photographs, and the occasional ridiculous argument between relatives about who had fallen first and who had known immediately.

In their world, love was rarely something people had to search for. Instead, it found you. Sometimes it happened when you were walking through a market, sometimes during a hunt, sometimes in the middle of a crowded celebration, and sometimes in the most inconvenient place imaginable.

Rose had even heard one particularly ridiculous story about someone who supposedly sensed their soulmate while taking a dump.

The stories always differed in their details, but they all had one thing in common.

When a werewolf came of age, approximately 223 Moon year, or eighteen human year, their senses sharpened, and somewhere in the impossibly large world beyond or within their pack, another heartbeat began to feel different from every other heartbeat. The smell of thousands of being could become meaninless, while one unfamiliar scent could make the entire body turn instinctively toward it. A voice could pass through a crowd and stop you where you stood. A pair of eyes could make the world suddenly feel smaller.

Rose had heard those stories since she was old enough to understand what a soulmate was, and every time someone told one, she imagined herself standing in the same place one day, eighteen years old and breathless with surprise, while some impossible stranger looked across a room and somehow knew exactly who she was.

She believed in it so completely that, when she was seventeen and another miserable day ended with her sitting alone in her bedroom, she opened a fresh notebook and wrote a letter to the person she hadn't met yet.

"Dear soulmate," she wrote.

She stared at the words for nearly a minute, then she continued.

"Today was horrible." The corner of her mouth lifted.

That seemed like a reasonable beginning.

She complained about her brother stealing her jacket, her mother making her attend a family gathering she didn't want to attend, a teacher who had assigned twice the amount of work everyone else had received, and the fact that someone had eaten the last piece of chocolate she had hidden behind a stack of books.

By the time she reached the end of the page, the anger had disappeared. She closed the diary and slid it beneath her mattress.

She didn't know his name.

She didn't know where he lived.

She didn't know what he looked like.

But she knew one thing.

One day, she would hand him that diary. And he would laugh at how seriously she had taken every stupid little problem in her teenage life.

She imagined him reading the pages while sitting beside her, shaking his head and asking.

"You wrote all this because someone ate your chocolate?"

And she would tell him that he had no right to judge her because he hadn't been there.

With time writing became a habit.

Whenever something went wrong, she wrote.

When she had a terrible day, she wrote.

When she was angry with her parents, she wrote.

When she felt lonely, she wrote.

Sometimes she wrote three pages.

Sometimes half a page.

Sometimes she simply wrote the date and one sentence.

"I wish you were here."

Then she would close the diary, hide it somewhere safe, and sleep with the strange comfort of believing that somewhere in the future, someone was going to read every word and hold her while reading.

With time, seasons changed. Summer faded into autumn, autumn surrendered to winter, and with winter came her eighteenth birthday.

Rose woke before everyone else. In fact, she had barely slept at all. On any ordinary day she would have slept until eleven. But today was no ordinary day.

She sat on the edge of her bed as the first light of morning slipped through the curtains, painting thin golden lines across the wooden floor.

Outside, snow had covered the lawn and trees,turning the world beyond her window into a quiet sea of white.

She lowered her eyes to the small glass vial resting between her fingers.

"Today is the day" She whispered.

The vial was barely larger than her thumb. Clear glass, sealed with a tiny silver stopper. Inside was a small amount of amber coloured oil, her own scent, carefully extracted over the past one year.

If it had been an ordinary vial, a wooden cork would have been enough. But this wasn't ordinary. It had taken the elders an entire year to collect and prepare those few precious drops.

And silver was used for a reason.

Unlike other materials, silver did not let any scent escape. It captured it, holding the scent within itself.

"Today I will finally sense him." She whispered.

A big, wicked smile slowly spread across her face.

There was an old well-established ritual for this day. At sunrise, the Moon blessed wolf was given a small glass vial, prepared by the elders from herbs and a tiny sample of the wolf’s natural scent collected over the past one year.

And before the day was over, Rose would have to carry it to the four edges of the pack’s territory and leave a drop at each boundary.

It was called Marking the Four Winds.

The elders said the ritual announced to the land that the wolf had come of age. More importantly, it gave the newly awakened wolf a chance to recognize her own scent among the thousands that belonged to her pack, the forest, and the world beyond it.

And today, for Rose, it meant something more.

From this day onward, her senses would begin to awaken. If her soulmate was somewhere in the world, she would be able to recognize his scent from afar, different from every other scent she had ever known. And somewhere out there, he would be able to sense hers too.

For a moment, Rose simply sat there, holding the vial and imagining. Somewhere out there, perhaps he was waking up too, wondering about her.

The thought made her smile.

She slipped the vial carefully into a small leather pouch and tied it around her waist before standing. As she has heard that one of her friend dropped her vial on her eighteenth birthday. She had been forced to wait an entire year before she could perform the ritual again.

Rose tightened the pouch around her waist.

She wasn't going to make the same mistake, she has already waited eighteen year.

She opened the door and headed downstairs.

When she reached downstairs, the dining hall was already busy with preparations for the evening feast. Servants moved in and out of the kitchen, carrying baskets of vegetables, fresh fruits, and trays of what appeared to be mushrooms. The rich smell of roasted meat filled the air.

It must be the lamb. Her father always liked to have it whenever something big happened. It was seasoned overnight and then cooked slowly over low heat for the entire day, allowing the meat to cook in its own juices until it became so tender that it practically fell apart.

Rose pulled out her usual chair and sat down, resting her hands on the table.

“Good morning, little princess.”

She looked toward the entrance.

Her father had just returned from the morning hunt. Snow clung to his thick beard and the shoulders of his dark coat. Beside him stood her older brother Glen, equally covered in snow, except, thankfully, without the enormous beard.

Her brother was more interested in Korean dramas than hunting, though he would rather die than admit it.

She had caught him watching one late at night once. He had been sitting completely absorbed in the final episode, eyes suspiciously red and a tear rolling down his cheek.

The moment he noticed her standing in the doorway, he had wiped his face and immediately claimed that his friends had dared him to watch the drama.

He hated it so much, he insisted, that he had cried out of pure frustration.

Rose looked at his brother, trying very hard not to smile but almost failing.

Her brother noticed immediately.

"What are you smiling at? Don't tell me you're thinking about that incident." Her brother said as he sat in his usual chair.

"What incident?" She asked, putting on the most innocent expression she could manage.

"You know exactly which one ..... " He paused, then looked away and whisphered. "The drama one."

He said the last two words, as though even saying it aloud was enough to damage his reputation.

Rose's smile widened and she laughed.

“It was a d-dare,” he said quickly. “A dare. A macho man like me would never cry over girlish things like that.”

He placed both hands dramatically over his chest, as if defending his honour.

Rose opened her mouth to reply, but before she could say anything, a voice came from behind them.

“Yeah, yeah. Macho man.”

Rose turned.

Her brother's wife, Jasmine, walked into the dining hall, carrying a cup of tea. She had clearly heard enough to understand exactly what was happening.

“Apparently, this macho man let me tie two ponytails into his hair last night.” Jasmine said, with a wicked smile then added while looking at Glen. "I even have proof on my phone."

Her brother's expression changed instantly.

“That is betrayal of trust. I m-mean the photo is AI generated.

His wife laughed and took her usual seat beside.

“Don't encourage her, Big Brother.” I said while laughing.

Her brother sighed dramatically.

Rose watched the two of them for a moment. They had been together for years now. Her brother had met his soulmate when he was twenty-three, just a year before Chinamon year.

She still wasn't sure what happened during Chinamon Year. But she had heard enough whispers from the older wolves to know that no one wanted to reach twenty-four without finding their soulmate.

Whatever could had happened, Glen had been spared from it.

And judging by the way he was now arguing with Jasmine over a photograph of himself wearing two ridiculous ponytails, Rose suspected he had no idea how lucky he was.

According to the family version, Glen had met Jasmine while he was away on a trek. She had been walking through the forest when a bear began chasing her. Glen had appeared at exactly the right moment, fought off the bear, and saved her.

It was a story Rose had heard so many times that she could practically recite it.

She had never quite believed it.

For one thing, her sister-in-law was perfectly capable of defending herself. And for another, Rose had always suspected the story had been told in reverse.

She glanced at Glen.

She had a feeling he had been the one running from the bear. She just hadn't found enough evidence yet.

A few moments later, her mother and father joined them, taking their usual seat at the head of the table.

Her mother, Cordelia, smiles at Rose as she settled into her chair.

"It's your day, sweetie. Finally eighteen, I guess you must be very excited about today, judging by the way you've been thumping your foor against the floor again and again."

Rose blushed and immediately stopped.

Cordelia laughed softly.

"I suppose you have been. My sweet little princess finally grew up" Cordelia said.

Her father reached for the bread, listening quietly. He is a man of few words. He rarely spoke unless he had something worth saying.

Rose looked between them.

Her mother, Cordelia, spent most of her days at the university, teaching philosophy. She had a habit of turning even the simplest family argument into a discussion about morality, free will, or the meaning of existence.

Her father was different.

To most humans beyond their territory, he is simply a respected judge.

Within their world, however, his position carried far more weight. He is the Lord of their lands, responsible for overseeing the affairs of the werewolves living among humans and making sure their existence remained hidden from the world around them.

For the next few minutes, the family simply ate breakfast together. Rose listened to Glen and Jasmine bicker over the photograph on her phone while her parents quietly ate their meal.

Rose finished her breakfast and pushed her chair back.

“I should go.”

Cordelia looked at her and smiled.

“Of course, sweetie.”

Rose touched the small leather pouch at her waist, making sure the vial was still safely inside.

Then she stood.

Today was the day she had been waiting for.

She left the dining hall and headed toward the stables.

The stable stood at the eastern sude of the estate, behind a row of old tress. It was a large stone building with wooden stalls, built generations ago when her family first settled on this land.

The moment Rose entered, several horses lifted their heads.

"Hello, everyone."

She walked past the familar stalls until she reached one near the end.

"Hello, Toby."

The old horse lifted his head and gave a quiet snort.

Rose smiled.

Toby had belonged to her father for as long as she could remember. He had been the horse Rose first learned to ride, back when her feet barely reached the stirrups and her father had to hold the reins beside her.

She still remembered those early rides. Her father walking beside Toby. Her tiny hands gripping the reins far too tightly. Her mother watching from the estate grounds, pretending not to worry.

Toby had been there for all of it.

But Toby wasn't hers.

Duskey was.

Rose continued down the row until she reached her mare's stall.

“There you are.”

Duskey lifted her head the moment she heard Rose's voice.

Rose smiled and stepped closer.

“How are you liking your winter coat?"

Duskey was a beautiful dark-grey mare, her coat almost black in the shadows of the stable. Rose ran her hand gently along her neck and scratched behind her ears.

Duskey leaned into her touch.

“I know. I missed you too.”

Rose laughed softly.

Duskey had been her first official horse. Rose had chosen her herself, and over the years the two had become almost inseparable.

Today, however, Duskey had somewhere important to take her.

She checked the pouch at her waist one last time before reaching for the saddle.

She pulled her cloak tighter around herself as the mare stepped onto the snow-covered path. Duskey's hooves sank slightly into the fresh snow, making a soft crunch with every step. White clouds escaped from her nostrils with each breath, quickly disappearing into the cold morning air.

Rose gently urged her forward.

“Easy, girl.”

Duskey flicked her ears back but continued along the familiar path, her dark coat standing out against the endless white around them.

The road curved away from the estate, winding between snow-covered trees before descending toward the valley. The cold bit at Rose's cheeks, but she barely noticed. She had ridden this road countless times, yet today every turn seemed strangely important.

Perhaps because today was different.

Today she was eighteen.

And for the first time, she was riding with the knowledge that somewhere in the world, her soulmate might already be awake.

As they approached the town, the first houses appeared between the trees. Smoke rose lazily from chimneys, disappearing into the pale winter sky. Shopkeepers were clearing the fresh snow from their doorsteps, while people wrapped in thick coats moved along the streets.

A man outside a bakery spotted her and immediately smiled.

“Rose!”

She slowed Duskey.

“Happy birthday!”

“Thank you!” Rose called back, smiling.

Further down the road, an elderly woman waved from the doorway of her home.

“Eighteen already!”

Rose laughed.

“I know!”

“Don't lose that vial!”

Rose instinctively touched the small leather pouch at her waist.

“I won't!”

She continued through the town, returning greetings as people recognized her.

Some knew her because of her family.

Others had known her since she was a child. And some were simply neighbors who had watched her grow up.

This was Avelune, the largest town in this part of the territory. She had spent most of her childhood here. The name itself came from an old word associated with water and moonlight, like many names in Vargen.

Her people had always believed that names should carry meaning. Mountains, rivers, lakes, forests, winds and seas had all been given names that reflected the land around them.

Even people were often named after something found in nature.

Rose had always liked that tradition.

She liked the idea that a name could tell a small story about where someone came from.

Duskey carried her through the town, Rose spotted Lena in the distance. Lena caught her eye, smiled, and waved.

Rose smiled and waved back.

Lena.

She still remembered what had happened on Lena's eighteenth birthday. She had dropped her vial and had been forced to wait another year for another one.

Rose glanced down at the small leather pouch tied securely around her waist.

Not happening to me.

She gave Lena one last wave before continuing down the road.

As the last houses of Avelune disappeared behind her, Rose guided Duskey onto the road leading toward the western hills.

Avelune was one of the states of Vargen, and the place Rose had called home all her life.

Vargen itself was a small island nation, known for its mountains, forests, clean air, peaceful towns, and long coastline. Its population was surprisingly small, partly because of the country's strict immigration laws. Very few outsiders were allowed to settle permanently in Vargen.

But the name Vargen carried a much older meaning.

In the oldest language of her people, it roughly meant “Land of the Wolf.”

Rose had always found that amusing.

To humans, Vargen was simply a quiet and prosperous island nation.

They had no idea how literal its name really was.

Beneath its towns, farms, universities, ports, and estates lived another society entirely.

Werewolves.

They had lived here for generations, sharing the land with humans while carefully protecting the secret of their existence.

Rose looked toward the mountains ahead.

Somewhere beyond them waited the first boundary of the Four Winds.

And somewhere beyond those boundaries, perhaps impossibly far away, was the person she had been waiting eighteen years to meet.

The first boundary was only the beginning.

After leaving her scent at the edge of the territory, Rose climbed back onto Duskey and continued toward the second corner.

The second boundary lay closer to the university.

As Rose approached, the landscape slowly changed. The quiet roads gave way to wider paths, old stone buildings, and scattered groups of students making their way between the university grounds and the nearby town.

Rose could see the familiar towers of the university in the distance.

This was where she spent most of her days studying archaeology and anthropology.

She had always been fascinated by the past.

Ancient ruins.

Lost civilizations.

Old languages.

Things that had survived long after the people who created them were gone.

Perhaps that was why she had always been drawn to the oldest stories of her own people too.

Rose dismounted and walked Duskey toward the marked boundary.

She opened the leather pouch and carefully removed the vial.

Only a few drops remained.

She placed one drop at the second marker. The scent disappeared into the earth. Rose watched it for a moment before climbing back onto Duskey.

Two down.

Two to go.

The third boundary took her toward the foothills.

The landscape opened up as the roads climbed gradually higher. Snow-covered fields stretched across the lower slopes, broken by fences, barns, and small wooden houses.

This was the farming region of Avelune.

Cattle grazed in large enclosed fields, their dark bodies standing out against the snow.

Farmers moved between barns, feeding animals and clearing paths through the snow.

Rose slowed as she passed.

Several people recognized her and waved.

She waved back.

This part of the territory always felt different from the town.

Quieter.

Slower.

Closer to the land.

Rose understood why so many old werewolf families had chosen to settle here. The mountains provided shelter, the fields provided food, and the forests beyond them offered plenty of space for wolves to run.

She eventually reached the third boundary.

Rose dismounted again and carefully opened the vial. One more drop fell onto the marked stone.

She sealed the vial and placed it back into the pouch.

Only one remained.

The fourth and final boundary lay near the largest town in the state. By the time Rose reached it, the sun had begun its slow descent toward the horizon.

This was the busiest part of Avelune, where merchants, families, students, and travellers gathered from different parts of the state.

Rose had always liked this place.

It felt alive.

She guided Duskey through the outer road until they reached the final boundary.

For a moment, Rose simply sat there looking at the vial in her hand.

Four corners.

Four directions.

Four marks.

She climbed down from Duskey and untied the leather pouch. Her fingers rested around the vial.

This was the last drop.

Rose carefully tipped the vial and let the final drop fall onto the earth.

It disappeared into the soil.

She turned the vial upside down for a moment, making sure there wasn't even a single drop left inside.

Empty.

She stared at it for a few seconds before placing it beside her.

She had marked the Four Winds.

Rose walked over to a large rock nearby and sat down against it. After a moment, she stretched out on the cold ground, ignoring the snow beneath her coat.

She raised her right hand toward the pale sky, her fingers slowly spreading and for a moment, she simply looked at the sky.

"I don't know where you are,” she whispered.

Her voice was barely louder than the wind.

“But I hope you're okay. Take good care of yourself.”

A small smile touched her lips.

“Wherever you are... just come soon, okay?”

She closed her hand into a gentle fist and lowered it to her chest. Then she sat up, brushed the snow from her coat, and stood.

Rose picked up the empty vial and slipped it back into the leather pouch. And walked over to Duskey and climbed onto her back.

“Come on, girl. Let's go home.”

Duskey turned toward the familiar road. Rose took one last look at the horizon before gently urging her forward.

The two of them began the journey home.

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Thanks for reading this chapter!

Hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Until next time... 🌙