Page 53 of Hunted By the Wolves
Chapter Twelve
Seattle breathed differentlyat night.
Caleb Holt crouched on the edge of the adjacent rooftop, rain misting the air just enough to slick concrete and dull sound.Below him, the luxury apartment block rose six stories, an unremarkable rectangle of glass and brick that should have felt ordinary.
It didn’t.
Nothing about this place felt right.
The lights in Sienna Maddox’s apartment were dark.The kind of darkness that pressed back against the senses and left a hollow behind the ribs.
Caleb studied the darkened windows, rain slicking the concrete beneath his boots.From this distance there was nothing to scent—only wet stone, exhaust, and the muted breath of the city—but the emptiness pressed in on him all the same.
“According to the doorman, she hasn’t been home for a few days,” Jackson murmured, scanning the balcony doors.It wasn’t certainty.It was instinct.
Caleb didn’t answer.He was already moving.
They scaled the side of the building without sound, fingers finding holds meant for maintenance crews, bodies built for strength and control making the climb almost casual.Caleb reached the balcony first, landing in a crouch and sweeping the space with his gaze.
Nothing disturbed.
He slipped the door open in seconds.No alarm.No resistance.A place like this should have next level security measures, but nothing was set.
That, more than anything, set his teeth on edge.
Inside, the apartment smelled wrong the instant they crossed the threshold.
Not lived in.At least not recently.
The air was stale, like windows that hadn’t been opened in days.The faint citrus of cleaning product lingered, layered over the unmistakable coppery tang of blood.
Caleb’s lion pushed forward, furious and protective, claws itching beneath his skin.
“Spread out,” he said quietly.
They did.
The living room was pristine to the point of suspicion.Couch cushions perfectly aligned.Coffee table bare except for a single coaster.No laptop.No bag.No phone.
A forced calm.
Caleb moved slowly, cataloguing everything.The angle of a chair that had been nudged out of place.A scuff on the hardwood near the hallway.The faint drag mark that caught the light only if you knew how to look.
Then the smell intensified.
Blood.
He followed it down the hall.
The bathroom door stood half-open.
Caleb pushed it wider with two fingers.
