Chapter 213 - 214: Why do I smell like wild mint, but you still smell like fish guts, huh?!
His mate slapped the back of his head so hard, he nearly bit his tongue.
"What is wrong with you, eh?" she snapped. "Has the sun cooked your brain?"
The man stumbled forward, holding his head, utterly betrayed.
"I used to think like you," she said, stepping out boldly now, standing in front of her mate and facing the rest. "I thought it was fine to smell like animal fur and dirt. But she—" she pointed at Isabella, "—taught us that smelling good and feeling clean isn’t weak. It’s power. It’s pride."
There were murmurs from the other women, nods of agreement, and one loud "Yes!" from someone in the back.
The woman continued, hands on her hips. "She taught us about keeping our bodies clean, about keeping our homes clean. Because we’re not ba-ba—"
She stumbled, the word foreign on her tongue. Her mate blinked, confused. Everyone turned to look at her.
Isabella stepped in smoothly, one brow raised and arms crossed. "Barbarians," she supplied, voice dry and loaded with sarcasm.
The woman’s eyes lit up. "Yes! Barbarians!" she repeated proudly, nodding gratefully toward Isabella. "We’re not barbarians anymore. If our mates still want to live in shit, let them—but not beside me."
A loud, offended gasp came from one of the men.
Another woman added, "Exactly! What’s the point of all that cleaning if they’re just going to roll in filth like dung beetles?"