Vendors hawk wares from wooden stalls draped in vibrant fabrics. Warriors in armor that would make a medieval museum curator weep with joy haggle over blades and shields. Children dart between the legs of adults, carrying wooden swords and laughing.
But it's the smells that nearly bring me to my knees.
Roasting meat, fresh bread, exotic spices, horses, leather, sweat, perfumes—all of it slams into me with such clarity that I can practically taste each individual component on my tongue. The wolf's enhanced senses are no joke.
Find mate, she whispers, softer now, almost pleading as her awareness stretches beyond the market toward the dark line of trees in the distance.
"Yeah," I adjust the pack on my shoulder, blinking rapidly to clear the sensory overload. "We will."
A group of warriors pass close by, their conversation faltering as they notice me. One whispers to another, eyes widening with recognition. Word has spread, it seems.
The wolf bristles at their scrutiny, a low growl building in my chest that I barely manage to swallow down. My heartbeat quickens, and I watch in horror as the small potted plant beside the nearest stall begins to wilt, its leaves curling at the edges.
I step away quickly, breathing deeply through my nose. Control. I need control.
I start walking, keeping my pace steady, my movements careful and controlled. No extra speed. No enhanced strength. Just one foot in front of the other. The human way.
A child stumbles into my path, eyes wide with wonder as he stares up at me. "Are you her? The one Odin blessed with a wolf-soul?" he asks, voice pitched with excitement.
The mother snatches him back, murmuring apologies while eyeing me with equal parts fear and reverence. The space around me widens and whispers follow me like shadows.
"Wolf-blessed."
"Prince’s mate."
Each step through the crowded market becomes a battle between my determination to remain human and the wolf's increasing desperation to run free. Sweat beads on my forehead despite the cool air, my jaw clenched so tightly I can hear my own teeth creaking.
The market begins to thin out as I reach the outskirts. I pick up my pace just a little, eager to reach the tree line and escape the eyes of random strangers.
The wolf grows more restless with each step.
I resist, gritting my teeth against its increasingly insistent pressure.
Soon, I'll reach the fork in the road. Then the northern path toward the mountains.
Run, it urges again. Faster.
"No," I say out loud, my voice firm even as sweat breaks out across my forehead from the effort of containing it. “We’re still too close to the market.”
The wolf isn't happy with this answer. The pressure intensifies, a physical sensation now, like something clawing at my insides, trying to get out. My skin burns, muscles spasming as the wolf fights for control.
I stumble, nearly falling to my knees as pain lances through me. The grass beneath my feet withers to dust.
"Wait," I gasp, clutching my stomach.
No. The wolf surges forward. Now, it demands. Run now.
It hits like a tidal wave, overwhelming and unstoppable. Bones crack and reshape, muscles tear and reform, skin gives way to fur. The pain is excruciating but brief. In seconds, I'm on all fours, my vision sharper, scents flooding my nose with information I could never process as a human.
My first coherent thought is pure panic. The market. Did I make it far enough? I whip my head around, scanning for civilians, for any sign of the bustling crowds I'd fled. The fork in the road lies dozens of yards away. Relief floods through me. I'd made it to the outskirts, at least.
But the destruction around me steals any comfort that thought might bring.
The plants around me wither, life draining into my tainted magick. Even the earth beneath my paws blackens in a perfect circle, soil turning to dust. Trees on either side of me turn black and crumble, their ancient trunks collapsing as if centuries of decay happened in seconds. Birds fall silent, the natural world recoiling from the wrongness of what I am.
I try to step back, to retreat from the devastation, but my new body doesn't respond the way I expect. The wolf is in control now, and she has only one goal.
I expected the wolf to seize control completely, but instead, I find we're sharing the driver's seat. My human consciousness remains present, guiding rather than fighting as the wolf's instincts surge through me.
