Chapter 326 326
Maurice POV
I’ve been on the road since last night through the dark hours and straight into today. Farm after farm, mile after mile. I’ve checked every property in this region that could plausibly be hiding illegal workers. None of them appear to be employing anyone off the books though no one foolish enough to do so would advertise it. Still, I searched relentlessly for signs of people living unseen, traces of temporary shelter, anything that suggested hidden lives.
Gilles hadn’t been precise. He’d deliberately withheld details from both Damien and me. But the small section of the map he’d indicated was enough. I hadn’t wasted a second.
The moment I saw it, I knew.
The farm crawling with police confirmed it. That was the sign I’d been waiting for.
I circle the perimeter fencing until I locate the accommodation entrance, watching officers herd people into vans and patrol cars, wrists bound, heads lowered. My jaw tightens as I pull over and cut the engine.
Damn it.
If I wanted information now, I’d have to play human.
I step out of the vehicle and retrieve a long black tailored coat from the boot, slipping it on with practiced ease. My fingers brush the inside pocket, confirming the presence of the forged detective badge.
Showtime.
“Can I help you?”
A policeman approaches, clipboard in hand, suspicion already lining his face.
“I received a tip that this place was employing illegal workers,” I say calmly, flashing the badge just long enough to establish authority. “Looks like you beat me to it.”
“Yes,” he replies. “The report came in early this morning.”
Of course it did.
“I’m not local,” I add. “I was hoping to locate the individual quietly, without involving regional enforcement.”
He hesitates, then nods. “You’re welcome to review the names. But everyone’s being transported to a holding facility until further checks are completed. You can follow us back if you want, Detective but they’re under our jurisdiction now.”
“I understand.” I school my expression into mild resignation. “I doubt the person I’m looking for is still here. I’ll check the list and inspect the accommodation area if you’ll allow it.”
I let my alpha presence bleed through not overtly, not enough to alarm him. Just a subtle pressure. Humans don’t experience it the way werewolves do, but they feel it. A sense of compliance they can’t quite explain.
“Of course, Detective,” he says, handing me the list before jogging off to stop a man attempting to flee.
I scan the names.
Not hers.
Not Gilles’s either.
I move methodically through the vans and patrol vehicles, inspecting faces, confirming absences. She’s not here.
Hope dims but doesn’t die.
I head for the caravans, checking each one carefully. Still nothing. No trace. No clue.
Until I reach one of the final caravans, tucked near the treeline.
And then
I inhale.
The world tilts.
Vanilla. Laced with something I’ve never been able to name.
Her.
A low sound escapes me before I can stop it half groan, half prayer as my eyes fall shut. Six months. Six months without this scent, and I’d forgotten how intoxicating it was. How it ignited something primal and unrelenting deep in my chest.
Fire roars to life inside me.
I step into the caravan and immediately register another scent layered over hers.
Male.
Gilles.
My wolf snarls, fury curling sharp and hot. That little bastard is rapidly climbing my list of grievances.
But she’s been here recently. Her scent still clings to the air, warm and alive. Fresh.
Hope surges, fierce and undeniable.
I search quickly, efficiently every surface, every corner looking for signs of where she went next. But the space is almost bare, as though it’s been abandoned for far longer than it has.
She was careful.
Never settling. Never growing comfortable.
No wonder my men struggled to find her. No one would ever expect her to hide somewhere like this not with her wealthy upbringing, not with the life she’d left behind.
She’s been clever.
If I weren’t so furious at her for running abandoning us I might even be proud.
Her trail leads toward the trees.
On foot.
Escaping the police, and not alone. Her scent intertwines with others now.
I can’t leave my vehicle here not without raising questions about this supposed detective lingering too long.
I retreat, drive half a mile down the road, and pull over where the trees grow thick and wild.
And then I stop resisting.
My wolf surges forward, impatient, demanding control. I barely make it into the woods before he tears through me, shredding fabric and flesh alike. My hands fumble uselessly at my clothes I’m far too slow for him.
He takes over completely.
Bones snap. Muscles tear and reform.
The black beast explodes into existence, powerful and unstoppable, driven by one singular instinct
Hunt.
His mate is close.
And this time, she won’t outrun him.