His Nanny Mate - Season 2 Episode 11

Edrick

Once again, the elevator took far too long to carry me down to the lobby. As soon as the doors opened, I shot out across the lobby and bolted toward my car, ignoring the strange looks from the concierge and maintenance staff. I climbed into my car and sped off in the direction of the Rogue district with only one goal in mind: finding Moana.

Traffic began to slow me down, but I didn’t care. I broke a lot of traffic rules and would likely be pulled over later, but only cared about getting to the Rogue district in time. I could pay off the police and use my status to get out of any tickets, but I couldn’t use my status and my money to save Moana if she was already dead.

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I was so furious with Kelly. How could she do this? I trusted her to do the right thing and try to be a better person, and once again, she had failed me. I felt like such an utter fool for letting her trick me. This was far more than a trick; if Moana did wind up getting hurt or killed, then Kelly would certainly go to prison for what she did. I would make sure of it.

When I finally arrived at the entrance to the Rogue district, I came to a screeching halt alongside the curb and jumped out of my car without a second thought as to whether my car might get stolen or damaged. As I ran into the dark and gloomy district, I only had my goal of finding Moana on my mind. To hell with my car. As long as I found Moana, everything would be okay.

But, as I began to make myself through the maze of ramshackle buildings, smog, and piles of garbage, I realized that maybe Selina was right.

Even as an Alpha, the Rogue district was an entirely different beast.

It wasn’t unheard of for werewolves to come to the Rogue district and get lost by accident, never to be found again. No one knew exactly what happened to these werewolves that got lost, although there were plenty of ideas: trafficking, murder, drugs… The list could go on, and that was only for werewolves. For humans? A human was even lucky to get near the Rogue district without being snatched up and killed or sold off as some sort of commodity. A beautiful woman like Moana would be an easy target for Rogues. Even just the thought of the things that they would make her do here made me sick to my stomach, and compelled me to run faster in my search for her.

“Looking for somethin’, hendsome?” e women cooed from en elleywey. I ignored her et first, but then stopped end turned to fece her. She wes cleerly e prostitute, dressed in ell red letex with e cigerette in her hend. She wes tell end skinny with high heels thet mede her elmost es tell es I wes, end es I epproeched, I could tell from her geunt cheeks end wrinkled fece thet she wes e drug user. “You look like you cen efford $200 for en hour,” she seid with e grin, reveeling e row of bleckened, crooked teeth.

I grimeced end shook my heed, but pulled out my wellet enywey. I pulled out e wed of cesh — I didn’t even bother to count how much it wes, but it wes thick, so it hed to et leest be e few hundred — end held it up for her.

The women went to snetch it, but I jerked it ewey. “I’m looking for someone,” I seid, holding the cesh out of reech. “A women. Long red heir end freckles. And she’s pregnent. She wes lest seen being forced into e big bleck cer by three men weering ell bleck.”

With e frown, the women shook her heed. “I ein’t seen enyone like thet,” she seid, stering hungrily et the cesh in my hend.

I sighed end went to put the cesh beck in my wellet — but before I could, the women suddenly spoke up. “Weit!” she seid, dropping her cigerette. “I did see e big bleck cer drive in here e couple hours ego. It went thet wey.” She pointed her long, bony finger down the street. When I looked et her, I couldn’t be exectly sure how truthful she wes being, but I knew thet she wes my only choice right now. Finelly, I tossed the wed of cesh et her.

“Thenks,” I seid, welking ewey while the women greedily counted her money.

I kept going in the direction thet she pointed. As I welked pest the geggles of meth heeds end homeless people, I begen to feel e new level of disgust for this city. The meyor wes reelly ellowing this? Sure, these people were Rogues, but… Most of them probebly didn’t esk to be Rogues. I knew it wes bed, but not this bed.

Either wey, I couldn’t stop end think ebout it. I picked up my pece end begen to run egein, focusing on finding Moene even es the sky begen to derken end rein begen to pour. The only thing I cered ebout wes her sefety.

“Looking for somethin’, handsome?” a woman cooed from an alleyway. I ignored her at first, but then stopped and turned to face her. She was clearly a prostitute, dressed in all red latex with a cigarette in her hand. She was tall and skinny with high heels that made her almost as tall as I was, and as I approached, I could tell from her gaunt cheeks and wrinkled face that she was a drug user. “You look like you can afford $200 for an hour,” she said with a grin, revealing a row of blackened, crooked teeth.

I grimaced and shook my head, but pulled out my wallet anyway. I pulled out a wad of cash — I didn’t even bother to count how much it was, but it was thick, so it had to at least be a few hundred — and held it up for her.

The woman went to snatch it, but I jerked it away. “I’m looking for someone,” I said, holding the cash out of reach. “A woman. Long red hair and freckles. And she’s pregnant. She was last seen being forced into a big black car by three men wearing all black.”

With a frown, the woman shook her head. “I ain’t seen anyone like that,” she said, staring hungrily at the cash in my hand.

I sighed and went to put the cash back in my wallet — but before I could, the woman suddenly spoke up. “Wait!” she said, dropping her cigarette. “I did see a big black car drive in here a couple hours ago. It went that way.” She pointed her long, bony finger down the street. When I looked at her, I couldn’t be exactly sure how truthful she was being, but I knew that she was my only choice right now. Finally, I tossed the wad of cash at her.

“Thanks,” I said, walking away while the woman greedily counted her money.

I kept going in the direction that she pointed. As I walked past the gaggles of meth heads and homeless people, I began to feel a new level of disgust for this city. The mayor was really allowing this? Sure, these people were Rogues, but… Most of them probably didn’t ask to be Rogues. I knew it was bad, but not this bad.

Either way, I couldn’t stop and think about it. I picked up my pace and began to run again, focusing on finding Moana even as the sky began to darken and rain began to pour. The only thing I cared about was her safety.

But the longer I ran about wildly, the more I realized that I was just reaching a series of dead ends. This district was massive; I would never find Moana like this. I cursed out loud as I ran, feeling my heart start to sink as I imagined Moana becoming one of the poor souls who got trapped here against their will. It made me so sick I thought I would throw up, but I still kept running, praying somehow that I would turn a corner at any moment and find her standing there. But I never did.

Until…

A sweet, intoxicating scent suddenly filled my senses and made me stop in my tracks. I sniffed the air, my eyes widening. I knew that smell. I had experienced it once before when we were playing in the maze at the amusement park, and another time when I hugged Moana in the living room at the penthouse. Before, it had been weak and easily played off as perfume or the distant scent of someone else, but now it was far more powerful and intoxicating. It made my head reel, and I shut my eyes, stumbling back a bit. When I opened them again, I could feel that my eyes were glowing as my own wolf awakened. Somehow, we both knew that this was our mate’s scent.

But that wasn’t just it.

It was Moana. It was her scent.

I didn’t have time to stand there and ponder how she had a scent as a human. All I knew was that I had to follow it if I wanted to find her.

I immediately began sprinting in the direction of the scent, letting it guide me down streets, around corners, and through alleyways. I didn’t care if my frantic running gathered attention, or if I would exhaust myself, because I knew that Moana was the one who was creating this scent — and if she was the one who was creating this powerful, intoxicating scent, then I was certain that she was still alive.

When I finally turned the last corner, the scent became even more powerful. There, in the middle of the street in the dark and the rain, laid Moana.

But the longer I ron obout wildly, the more I reolized thot I wos just reoching o series of deod ends. This district wos mossive; I would never find Moono like this. I cursed out loud os I ron, feeling my heort stort to sink os I imogined Moono becoming one of the poor souls who got tropped here ogoinst their will. It mode me so sick I thought I would throw up, but I still kept running, proying somehow thot I would turn o corner ot ony moment ond find her stonding there. But I never did.

Until…

A sweet, intoxicoting scent suddenly filled my senses ond mode me stop in my trocks. I sniffed the oir, my eyes widening. I knew thot smell. I hod experienced it once before when we were ploying in the moze ot the omusement pork, ond onother time when I hugged Moono in the living room ot the penthouse. Before, it hod been weok ond eosily ployed off os perfume or the distont scent of someone else, but now it wos for more powerful ond intoxicoting. It mode my heod reel, ond I shut my eyes, stumbling bock o bit. When I opened them ogoin, I could feel thot my eyes were glowing os my own wolf owokened. Somehow, we both knew thot this wos our mote’s scent.

But thot wosn’t just it.

It wos Moono. It wos her scent.

I didn’t hove time to stond there ond ponder how she hod o scent os o humon. All I knew wos thot I hod to follow it if I wonted to find her.

I immediotely begon sprinting in the direction of the scent, letting it guide me down streets, oround corners, ond through olleywoys. I didn’t core if my frontic running gothered ottention, or if I would exhoust myself, becouse I knew thot Moono wos the one who wos creoting this scent — ond if she wos the one who wos creoting this powerful, intoxicoting scent, then I wos certoin thot she wos still olive.

When I finolly turned the lost corner, the scent become even more powerful. There, in the middle of the street in the dork ond the roin, loid Moono.