5. Silas

SILAS

The engine of my bike rumbles to a stop as I pull up at the address Henry gave me. It's a quaint little place in Bozeman, the kind of house that looks like it should belong to a happy family with a white picket fence. But the air around it feels thick and tense, like the walls themselves are holding their breath.

I dismount and take a moment to scan the area, acting like I'm supposed to be here since giant hairy guys on Harleys tend to attract a lot of attention. Striding up to the door, I reach into my pocket like I'm pulling out keys. There are no signs of forced entry, no obvious disturbances. From the outside, everything looks normal. Too normal. I push down the peculiar feeling of déjà vu stop in front of the door.

The lock is easy to pick—almost disappointingly so. Inside, the house is eerily quiet and I lock the door behind me, taking a deep breath while letting my wolf's senses come to life. The scent of her feint. She's been gone for a while. But when I catch it, it hits me like a freight train—sweet and intoxicating, with a hint of something wild and untamed. It's a scent that brings back memories I'd rather forget. Memories of the mate who rejected me. But this is different. This is human. And humans shouldn't smell like this…

I shake off the feeling and the shitty memories that come with it and focus on the task at hand. The living room is tidy, if a little dusty. But the thing that strikes me most is there's nothing here that screams ‘married woman.' There are photos. So much for being shy. But they're of her and, I'm guessing, her friends and family. No Henry. If they ever lived together, it certainly wasn't here.

Now, that's not to say I can't scent him here at all. He's definitely been inside this house recently, but there's nothing here that's his. No men's shoes by the front door, and judging by the disheveled state of the main bedroom, no men's clothing in the open cupboards and drawers. They may be married. But they're obviously separated. And my guess is she took off in a hurry the moment she realized he found her.

I head into the kitchen, next. Old dishes are stacked in the sink, a carton of milk left out on the counter—more signs of a hurried exit. The fridge hums along as if nothing has happened, its contents untouched long enough for the produce to turn slimy. Gross.

Casually, I rummage through the trash, prodding at an empty Takis packet with a sigh. Never understood the appeal of those things. Too spicy for my taste, but to each their own. When I give it a shake, there's something inside. Never to leave a stone unturned, I look inside and find a crumpled receipt.

"Clever girl," I say to myself as I fish it out and brush the powder and crumbs from my fingers before smoothing the crumpled paper out. It's a receipt from a local sporting goods store for camping equipment. One tent, a sleeping bag, cooking gear… all paid in cash just a couple of weeks ago. Mika"s smart, I"ll give her that. But if she really didn't want this thing found, she should have burned it, not left it hidden it in a spicy snack bag for a nosey wolf to stumble across.

I shrug off my jacket and toss it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs, taking a moment to once again let my senses roam the space. Her scent is fading but still there, clinging to every corner of this house she briefly called home. A scent that is becoming more familiar, more ingrained in my memory with every whiff.

Closing my eyes, I follow it around the house, like I'm tracking her footsteps and finding the places she spent time in the most. The bed and the couch are the strongest, so I search beneath the mattress, blankets and couch cushions, even moving the furniture away from the wall since I already know she has the forethought to hide things.

It's when I pull the couch away from the wall that the sound of something hitting the floor catches my attention. I bend down and pick up a thin, dog-eared paperback—Surviving the Wilderness: A Hiker"s Guide—filled with highlighted sections and handwritten notes in the margin.

"Camping equipment and now this?" I murmur, flipping through the worn pages. "It looks like you"re going somewhere secluded, Mika."

She's probably trying to lose herself in the vast expanse of nature, where it would be difficult for any normal human to track her. But I"m not a normal human, and it doesn't really matter how deep into the wild she goes. Now that I have her scent, I'll be able to find her anywhere.