9. Silas

SILAS

Ikeep my distance over the next twenty-four hours, but I keep an eye on Mary—hell, Mika. She"s good at keeping low, moving through the forest off the beaten track to reduce her chances of being followed. But I"ve been doing this for too long to be fooled. Plus, I have the ability to follow her through scent alone. I could find her with my eyes closed.

Adjusting my pack on my back, I move from tree to tree, keeping a respectful distance. This would be a hell of a lot easier if I could transform into my wolf instead of posing as a hiker. But he's too restless, too eager to get closer, so I need to keep him in check. Even though he's a part of me, there are times when our instincts clash.

I watch her as she crouches by a bush, carefully picking wild berries and placing them in a small basket. I can"t help but admire the way she moves—deliberate, cautious, like she"s always thinking two steps ahead. It"s a trait I respect. But it"s also a damned shame she"s had to learn it that way.

The wind shifts slightly, carrying her scent more directly to me. My wolf stirs restlessly, clawing at the surface of my consciousness. I take a deep breath and force him back. Easy there, big guy. We've got a job to do, not a date to plan.

I step on a particularly loud twig and Mika's head snaps up. She"s got that sharp look in her eyes again, scanning the surroundings like she expects a monster to jump out at any moment. Can"t blame her. We all got our demons, and there quite literally is a monster following her around—me.

That's when I see it—a massive shadow moving in the trees behind her. Fuck. It's a bear, and it"s none too friendly-looking either.

The beast lumbers closer, sniffing the air as if it's caught wind of something interesting. Mika's still got her back to it, her senses not yet tuned to the danger creeping up on her. Dropping my pack, my instincts roar to life, and I'm moving before my brain fully wraps around the situation.

My wolf side lurches to the surface as I place myself between Mika and the bear. My teeth bared and eyes flashing as my wolf growls out a warning low in my throat. Immediately, the bear stops its advance, focusing on me instead. It tosses its head back and lets out a deep, menacing roar. Don't make me fully wolf out, pal.

"Silas?" Mika's voice is a whisper behind me, filled with confusion and fear. I keep my back to her, not wanting her to see the half-transformed state I"m in. My muscles are bulging, skin itching for the full shift, but I force myself to stay mostly human.

"Stay back," I grunt, every syllable a struggle to keep control.

The bear takes another step forward, and I can feel its hunger, so I crouch lower, raising my hands in a gesture that"s part human warning, part wolf threat. The bear seems to finally understand that it'd be on the losing end of this battle and drops to all fours, turning with a growled complaint before it lumbers away into the woods. I push my wolf back down immediately.

I turn toward Mika, wiping the sweat off my brow. Her eyes are wide, darting between me and the path the bear disappeared down.

"What the hell was that?" she asks, her voice shaky.

"Just a friendly neighbor saying hello," I quip, trying to lighten the mood despite the adrenaline still thrumming in my veins.

"Friendly? That thing looked like it wanted to have us for lunch!"

"Well, it changed its mind," I say with a wink, picking up my pack and slinging over my shoulder. "Lucky I was hiking through the area."

"I suppose you're right." She looks at me with wide eyes, clearly shaken but grateful. "Thank you for doing that. I don"t know what I would have done if you hadn't stepped in."

"It's no problem," I say, my voice steady. "But you seem pretty shaken up. Are you fine to get wherever you're heading, or would you like me to walk you?"

"I'm fine. Thanks."

Mika's voice doesn't quite match the way she's clutching her basket like it"s a lifeline. I can see the tremor in her hands, and it makes my gut twist. She's not fine, but I get it—pride is a stubborn beast.

"All right," I reply, keeping my tone casual. "I'll be on my way then."

I start to walk away, my boots crunching against the forest floor, but her voice pulls me back.

"Wait," she calls out, her voice stronger now. I turn to see her looking up at the sky then back to me. "It looks like the weather is turning. The least I can do is offer you shelter to wait it out."

I glance up at the sky, and as if on cue, the first drops of rain begin to fall.

"Well, that"s a decent offer," I say, squinting as rain droplets hit my face. "Got a thing for playing host to strangers who save your hide from bears?"

She rolls her eyes, though I catch the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "Don"t push your luck, hero. You want to stay dry or not?"

"Lead the way," I say, grinning. She turns and heads down a barely visible path through the trees, her steps quick and purposeful. I follow, keeping an eye on her in case she trips or changes her mind.

Her cabin comes into view, and we barely make it inside before the storm hits with full force, the rain coming down in fierce sheets.

Inside, it"s cool and dry. I find some wood and use a bit of flint from my pack to start a small fire in the hearth while she potters about in the kitchen.

I watch as she moves around, her hands no longer trembling but still carrying that edge of urgency. There"s something different about seeing her in this setting—less guarded, more... human. For a moment, I forget about the storm outside.

"Nice place," I say, leaning back on my heels as the fire flickers to life. "Cozy. You always set up camp in the middle of nowhere?"

She glances over her shoulder, arching an eyebrow. "Only when I"m avoiding bears and overly curious bikers." She places a steaming mug on the table, steam curling into the air. "Tea?"

I chuckle, taking the mug and warming my hands around it. "Sure, why not? It kinda just tastes like grassy water, but it's warm, and it beats freezing my ass off outside."

She snorts, a sound that's more endearing than she"d probably like to admit. "Glad to be of service."

As the storm starts rattling the windows, I take a seat on the small couch. The warmth of the fire is spreading through the cabin, making this place feel even more cozy as I take a sip of tea. It's not half bad—there's a hint of something sweet, maybe honey. I watch Mika as she settles into a chair across from me, her eyes scanning the room like she's not sure if she can relax around me. I half expect there's a weapon of some sort hidden within her reach.

"So," she starts. "What makes a person join a biker club with a name like Devil"s Pack?" Her eyes narrow slightly, curiosity mixed with skepticism.

I take another sip of the tea, letting the warmth seep in. "Needed family. Found it there. Plus, motorcycles are a helluva lot more fun than office jobs."

She laughs, a genuine sound that catches me off guard. "I can see that. My life was never exactly nine-to-five either." Her fingers wrap around her own mug, knuckles white like she"s holding onto it for dear life. "So, is it all about the thrill? The danger?"

"Partly," I admit, setting my mug down. "But it"s more about loyalty. Having each other"s backs. Protecting what's important. It"s a brotherhood." I pause, watching her carefully. "What about you? What makes a person decide to hole up in a cabin with no access roads?"

Her eyes darken for a second, and she shifts in her seat. "I answered this at the diner. I needed a break."

I raise an eyebrow, giving her a look that says I"m not buying it. "A break? From what, exactly? Worldly pleasures and modern conveniences?"

She smirks, though it"s tinged with a hint of sadness. "Let"s just say I"ve got my own brand of danger to avoid." She lifts her mug to her lips, taking a slow sip, buying time. I don"t push; I can see she"s not ready to spill her life story yet.

"Fair enough," I say, leaning back, stretching my legs out. "We"ve all got our demons. Some of us ride motorcycles to escape them, others hide in cabins." I let the joke hang in the air, watching as she fights a smile.

She sets her mug down and leans forward. "So, what"s it like then? Riding with the Devil"s Pack?"

I chuckle, running a hand through my hair. "Ever ride a rollercoaster at midnight in a thunderstorm?"

Her eyes widen slightly. "Can"t say I have."

"Well," I say, grinning, "it"s kind of like that. Heart pounding, wind in your face, the sense that you might fly off the rails at any second but you trust the ride will hold. And when you"re with the Pack, you know you"ve got a safety net. If something goes wrong, someone"s there to catch you."

She nods, chewing on her lip thoughtfully. "It sounds kinda nice… Safe."

"Safe?" I snort. "That"s a new one. Usually, people think we"re a bunch of maniacs with a death wish."

Mika"s eyes flicker with something I can"t quite place. It"s like she"s seeing beyond the leather jackets and roaring engines, glimpsing the bonds that tie us together. "Maybe safety isn"t always about avoiding danger," she says softly. "Maybe it's about knowing someone's got your back when the storm hits."

I stare at her, so fucking vulnerable up here alone, and my wolf surges within me, a primal need roaring to the forefront. It"s like an electrical current, zapping through my veins and making my muscles tense with the overwhelming urge to protect her, to offer safety in every conceivable way. I can hear him howling in my mind, demanding action. I have to look away to regain control, staring out the window as the wind picks up outside. Rain pelts the glass in a steady rhythm, and thunder rumbles in the distance, signaling that the storm is well and truly settling in.

"Looks like we"re in for a wild night," I say, trying to refocus on anything but the magnetic pull she has on me. The rain cascades down in sheets, blurring the world outside into a gray haze.

She follows my gaze to the window, and her shoulders relax a bit, tension easing out of her posture. "Yeah," she murmurs, voice almost drowned out by the storm's crescendo. "Nature's got a way of making you feel small, doesn"t it?"

I nod, still staring out into the tempest. Anything to avoid looking at her too long. "Yeah, it does. Reminds you that some things are just... out of your control."

There's a beat of silence between us before she stands from her chair. "Speaking of control," she says, walking over to the bookshelf. "How about a game of cards? Might help pass the time, and I promise I won"t hustle you. Much."

I chuckle, finally chancing a proper look at her. "Cards, huh? You sure you"re ready to take on a badass biker like me?"

She smirks as she gets out a deck of cards and starts shuffling. "In my experience, bikers are only bad if you wrong them in some way. So I have no issue going up against you in a game of cards. Besides, I could probably hustle you blindfolded."

I raise an eyebrow, unable to hide my amusement. "Big words for someone who jumped at the sound of thunder."

"Hey," she protests, but there"s a playful glint in her eye. "I"m not scared of thunder. Just... startled. It"s different."

"Sure, sure," I tease, moving to sit across from her at the small, worn-out table. The cards slap down with a confident flourish that makes me wonder just how good Mika is at this game. I lean back in my chair, trying to look nonchalant. "So, what"s your game of choice? Poker? Gin rummy? Go Fish?"

She grins with a mischievous spark lighting up her eyes. "Texas Hold"em. Considering you're a big bad biker, I expect you to know your way around a deck of cards and I don't need to explain the rules."

Big bad biker? More like the big bad wolf, but I'll play along.

"All right, Texas Hold'em it is," I say, cracking my knuckles. "But don"t say I didn"t warn you. I've cleaned out entire clubs with my card skills."

Mika rolls her eyes but doesn"t miss a beat as she deals the cards with a practiced flick of her wrist. "How about we make this interesting then, tough guy?" she says, her voice tinged with a cocky edge.

I lean in, intrigued. "And what exactly did you have in mind?"

She pauses, looking at the cards thoughtfully before raising her gaze to meet mine.

"Loser has to spill a secret. Something real. None of that middle school crap like "I once put glue on my teacher"s chair.""

"High stakes for a friendly game," I say, though the idea does pique my interest. "You sure you"re ready to hear my deep, dark secrets?"

"Ready as I"ll ever be," she shoots back, her eyes never leaving mine.

"All right, deal," I agree, flipping my cards up and stretching my legs under the table. "But only if you"re ready to bare your soul, too."

She scoffs, but there"s a hint of nervousness in her eyes. "Spilling a few secrets to you is the least of my worries."

As the game unfolds, tension mounts and laughter intersperses our competitive banter. She's good—damn good. I can"t help but admire her focus, the way her eyes scan every card, every flicker of my expression.

"Raise you ten," she says, sliding a neat stack of makeshift chips to the center—torn up pieces of paper with number values on them.

"You know you"re gonna lose, right?" I respond, pushing a stack of my own forward. "I've got a poker face that would make a statue jealous."

Mika raises an eyebrow, smirking. "Then get your ass in the game and prove it, biker boy."

"Oh, I'm a boy now, am I?" I chuckle, but inside, I'm all business. She's got me curious—what kind of secrets is she thinking of spilling?

The game gets intense. Cards flipping, paper chips sliding, the whole nine yards. The air between us crackles with energy, her focus like a laser beam on every move I make. My cards aren"t half bad, but she"s playing like her life depends on it.

"So, what"s your story, anyway?" I ask casually, trying to throw her off. "What kind of danger is a woman like you trying to avoid?"

Her eyes flicker momentarily, betraying a flash of vulnerability before she smirks again. "Nice try, but I'm not losing concentration that easily. Besides, isn"t the whole point of this game to drag it out of me the proper way?"

"Can"t blame a guy for trying," I say, grinning. "But fair enough. I"ll keep my eyes on the prize."

The final hand comes down to the wire. I"ve got an ace and a queen, both of hearts, promising, but not definitive. The last card flips—a king. Oh hell. This could go either way. Mika"s eyes narrow, her poker face slipping just enough to show she"s calculating her next move.

"I"ll see your ten and raise you twenty," she says, pushing her last paper chips into the center. Her eyes lock onto mine with a quiet challenge.

I lean back, considering. This is it—the moment of truth. I glance at my cards again, weighing my odds. She"s good, no doubt about it. But I have the edge that most humans don't have, wolf senses. My hearing and smell combined are like a built-in bullshit detector, and right now, they're telling me she's bluffing. Her heartbeat skips just slightly, her scent sharpens with tension.

"All right then," I say, matching her bet. "Let"s see what you"ve got, Mary."

She flips her cards: two pairs, eights and nines. Not bad. But I flip mine, revealing my ace and queen. "Sorry, Mary. Looks like luck"s on my side tonight."

Her eyes widen for a moment, then she forces a smile. "Well played, biker boy. Guess that means I owe you a secret."

The room feels heavier suddenly, the game's lighthearted banter giving way to something much more serious. She takes a deep breath, her fingers nervously tapping the table.

"All right," she begins, her voice a bit shaky. "My name's not Mary. It's Mika. Mika Braddish."

I lean in, fully attentive now. "Go on," I encourage softly and she looks away, gathering her thoughts. This is clearly hard for her.

"I"ve been on the run," she continues. "For... God, it feels like forever. There's a man—no, a monster—who won't leave me alone. He's... he's obsessed. Made my life a living hell."

She pauses, the weight of her words hanging in the air. I can see the struggle in her eyes, the vulnerability she"s trying to keep under wraps. My fingers drum on the table unconsciously, matching her own nervous rhythm.

"Who is this guy? An ex or something?"

"No. I've never been in a relationship with him. But in his mind... he thinks I belong to him. He"s built this whole twisted fantasy around us. I"ve tried everything—changing my name, moving across the country, hiding in plain sight. But he always finds me." Her voice cracks, and she looks down at her hands, clasped tightly together.

"So he's a stalker?" I ask, feeling the pit in my stomach deepen. I knew something was off the day Henry asked me to find her, and her nod confirms it. I feel a fierce protectiveness surge within me. "Why haven"t you gone to the cops?"

"You don't think that was the first thing I tried?"

Mika"s eyes flash with frustration. "Cops can't do a damn thing when he's always one step ahead. Restraining orders, reports, all useless. He's got resources—money, connections. I don't even know who he really is. He uses aliases as well as I do."

I sit back in my chair, processing everything she"s just unloaded. This is more than I bargained for, but I"m in it now. "So why come to me? What"s the plan here?"

She straightens a bit, her resolve hardening. "Like I said earlier, in my experience, bikers are only bad if you do something to cross them. Your club"s reputation precedes you. The Devil's Pack is known for handling things off the books, things that the law won't touch. I need someone who can play by his rules—someone who's not afraid to get their hands dirty. And if that person isn't you. Then maybe you know someone. Someone who can finally put an end to this so I don't have to spend the rest of my life running."

I lean in, elbows on the table, and meet her gaze squarely. "You"re right about one thing—the Devil"s Pack doesn"t shy away from a fight. But tracking down some shadow guy with infinite resources? That"s no small ask." As soon as the words leave my mouth, my wolf surges beneath my skin, indignant because he knows we have access to this guy, so finding him and tearing him limb from limb would be as simple as a phone call. He wants to protect this woman he believes to be his new mate at all costs, but I'm not about to let him take the reins just yet. We need a plan—not blind fury.

Her lips purse, and she leans back with a sigh, eyes scanning the room like she's expecting her stalker to jump out from the shadows any second. "I get it. It's a lot. But I'm at my breaking point. I don't have anywhere else to turn, Silas. If you can't help me, then I might as well—" Her voice cracks, and for a moment, she looks like she's going to crumble right in front of me.

Damn. My heart twists a little, despite the steel cage I"ve built around it. Mika"s desperation is palpable, and I feel my resolve bending, my wolf growling low in my mind, urging me to step up, to protect what's ours.

"All right," I say, voice firm but not unkind. "I"ll help you. Tell me everything there is to know about this guy."

A tremor of relief passes through Mika, and she nods, accepting the gravity of my words.

"Thank you," she whispers, tears immediately springing to her eyes as her shoulders sag. "I'll tell you everything you need to know. But I think we"re gonna need a drink to get through this. I know I need one."

She rises from her seat and heads into the kitchen, her movements suddenly more fluid, as if the weight of my agreement has given her a sliver of peace. I watch her go, noticing how even in her tension, there"s a gracefulness about her. The kind that"s been honed by necessity.

As she rummages through the cabinets, I glance down at the table. Her cards have slid, revealing the hand she was holding. It hits me, then—a flush of realization. She lost on purpose. Guess she really did hustle me. Well played, Mika. Well played.