My Werewolf System

Chapter 942  I Don't Belong

The headache that had plagued Dean’s mind at his desk had only lasted a small moment. He truly thought it was nothing to worry about, and as he got through more piles of paperwork for the entire pack and Lupus gang, he stood up and started to stretch his legs slightly.

He walked around the large office space as he would do to keep the blood flowing, but as he reached the door, his nose started to tingle. He took a couple of sniffs in the air.

“The guards stationed outside by Lupus, he’s always overprotective,” Dean mumbled to himself. But he noticed something. The smell, even though he could tell it was the same smell coming off them every time, this time it was agitating him slightly.

These werewolves almost felt different to him, different compared to before, and his instincts were telling him to be cautious. He could feel the hair on his arm start to stand up the closer he moved in.

Eventually, he started to back away. “What’s wrong with me, first the headache and now this?”

Walking around the room as well, Dean’s sensitive nose could still smell the others, and his body felt like it didn’t want to be here, it didn’t want to be around the smell. His instincts were telling him this wasn’t a good place to be and he either needed to leave or get rid of those on the other side of the door.

“Why are these thoughts racing through my mind, what’s wrong with me, am I just too tired?” Dean started to think. He decided to head to the private bathroom that was just off to the side of the office. When he got there, he started to splash water on his face and eventually looked directly into the mirror.

He didn’t notice it at first, as he looked at the features deep on his face. The wrinkles that got slightly deeper, the stubble on his face that had grown from not caring about his appearance, and eventually, he looked into his deep eyes.

That was when he could see it, the glow that reflected red back at him. A glow that would often only occur on a werewolf when they were in combat, but it wasn’t the glow itself, instead, it was the color.

“These red eyes,” Dean said as he raised his hand. They were shaking as he reached into them. For a brief moment, he even thought about digging them out. He remembered the countless stories that were told about his ancestors having to fight each other because of these red eyes.

And even in some cases, as soon as someone with red eyes would appear in the pack, an order would be declared to get rid of them immediately, killing them on the spot, stopping problems from occurring.

However, he didn’t gouge his own eyes out, it wasn’t something he could do. As he thought about it more, he thought it would be fine, things would be fine.

‘My brother, he wouldn’t do that to me, I know him, I’ve been with him for a long time.’

Taking several deep breaths, Dean looked in the mirror again, and quickly threw out a fist, smashing the mirror. He didn’t want to see those red eyes, but it was a reality he had to accept as he eventually left the bathroom.

When entering the room though, to his surprise, he could see that the large double doors that would lead to his office were open, and the two guards had transformed their arms already and were looking around.

“Kpollo, Seneca, what’s going on, what are the two of you doing in here?” Dean asked.

His hand was covering part of his face, and he was looking down at the ground avoiding eye contact. It was better for him to tell Lupus himself about this matter before things got out of hand.

“Sorry, Seneca said he smelled something weird, and it was the same for me, something just didn’t feel right. We knocked a few times and called out to you, sir, but there was no reply,” Kpollo replied.

Dean figured they must have done these things when he was in the bathroom, too distracted to even hear them. In this state, he wasn’t going to be helpful to anyone.

As Dean got closer though, the two werewolves started to sniff the air, and it didn’t take them long to figure out that the strange scent they could smell was coming from Dean himself.

“Sir, there is a smell coming from you. It’s startling me,” Seneca said.

Dean had figured it out, it wasn’t just him that felt different, everyone else did. Werewolves had a distinctive smell to others, but each person, even if werewolf or not, had their own smell that could be traced as well.

On top of that, the memory of smell was even better than visual memory for werewolves. Sometimes they might see someone and not remember who they are, but once the scent wafts into their nose, they would remember every single thing about this person and where they met them.

Which was why both Seneca and Kpollo were wondering, how could the smell coming from Dean be the same, yet rather than remembering pleasant memories of him, an urge was building up within them. Telling them that this person didn’t belong to them, they weren’t family.

“Are you really Dean?” Kpollo asked.

Now both of the werewolves knew they were on the same page.

“Of course, I’m Dean, what kind of stupid question is—” In the middle of his sentence, Kpollo took a swing at Dean, who leaned backward moving. He then charged forward and grabbed Kpollo right by his neck.

“What do you think you’re doing!” Dean asked, his vibrant red eyes glowing.

---Nôv(el)B\\jnn

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