Chapter 466-The Scent Of The Woman I Crave

Chapter 466: 466-The Scent Of The Woman I Crave

Ragnar:

"Relax. She’s not going to cause any damage," I assured him as I made my way toward the back of the building.

’All right, Ragnar, but the car is parked perfectly fine on the other side. We should go home, have a drink, and...’

He was still running his mouth when I decided I’d heard enough.

I shut him out.

Silence.

It really was that simple.

Cutting someone out of my life had never been particularly difficult. The ones who remained were there for one reason alone.

I allowed them to be.

"Go home, go home," I mimicked my wolf under my breath as I made my way down the road.

Not that I was wandering aimlessly. I knew exactly where I was going.

"I don’t want to go back to that fucking mansion," I muttered. "And why should I? I have a home."

With that settled, I continued toward the omega community.

By the time I reached it, morning had already arrived. I’d gotten distracted a few times along the way, but could you blame me?

The woods were rather pleasant, and then there was that water I’d spent, what, an hour staring at?

I couldn’t say for certain. I’d completely lost track of time, mesmerized by the sound of it.

So noisy. So fucking soothing.

Eventually, I resumed my journey home.

My second home, technically. The one where I was actually welcome.

She’d told me herself that I could come over whenever I wanted, any day, especially when I felt lonely.

Well, wasn’t that generous of her?

And here I was, standing outside her front door, searching for the spare key.

I knew she’d hidden one somewhere outside, and after a little searching, I found it tucked into a crack in the wall near the entrance.

"Seriously?"

I stared at the key before shaking my head.

"And this woman has the audacity to act surprised when someone steals her stuff."

Touching a fingertip to my lips, I entered the code, unlocked the door, and stepped inside.

I closed it quietly behind me, letting my gaze travel around the place before releasing a sigh.

Apparently, she’d already left for work.

Good. Somebody had to keep the office running while I got some well-deserved rest.

I headed straight to her bedroom.

The bed was neatly made, everything tucked into place with almost irritating perfection.

Naturally, I tossed my coat onto the couch and approached her dressing table.

I pulled open a drawer and found a ridiculous amount of jewelry scattered inside, the pieces tangled together in a hopeless mess.

"She’s even messier than her actions," I commented, examining the disaster.

After a moment’s consideration, I emptied the contents of one drawer into another and claimed the vacant one for myself.

My wallet, phone, rings, necklace, bracelet, watch, and clothes went inside before I slid it shut.

There. Much better.

Next, I approached her wardrobe, only to discover that the damn thing was stuffed to capacity.

Not a single inch of space.

"Where the fuck am I supposed to put my coat now?"

I stared at it for a moment, then gave up with an irritated groan.

Whatever. The coat could survive on the couch.

Grabbing a fresh towel, I made my way into the bathroom for a shower.

I had to admit, the woman had excellent taste in toiletries. Shampoo, body wash, lotions, everything smelled rather pleasant.

But as I stood beneath the water, something kept bothering me.

None of it smelled like her.

Strange, considering these were the products she supposedly used. You’d think her scent would be some combination of them, wouldn’t you?

Apparently not.

She smelled different. Distinctive, almost impossible to mistake for anyone else.

And for some ridiculous reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Once I finished showering, I pulled my trousers back on and wandered around the bedroom, rubbing my hair dry with the towel.

When I was done, I tossed it aside.

Where did it land?

No fucking idea.

Didn’t particularly matter, either. She’d take care of it.

I left the bedroom and headed into the kitchen, only to encounter yet another unpleasant surprise.

The fucking refrigerator was practically empty.

No food.

Nothing.

"Didn’t she say she liked baking?" I complained, opening it wider as though the missing food might suddenly materialize.

"Doesn’t look much like a baker’s refrigerator to me."

I checked the cupboards, too.

Hardly any ingredients.

Not that I knew much about baking, but even I was fairly certain you needed actual ingredients to make something.

"Does she just eat out all the time? All that unhealthy junk?"

I frowned at the empty shelves.

"Or maybe she doesn’t eat at all."

No, that couldn’t be right.

If she didn’t eat, she wouldn’t have any fat on her.

And she certainly had some.

Just in rather specific places.

I stopped.

What the fuck was I even thinking about?

Shaking my head, I shut the cupboard before my thoughts could wander any further into that particular territory.

There was, however, one thing worth having.

A large carton of milk.

Excellent.

I grabbed it, drank the entire thing straight from the carton, and tossed the empty container into the sink.

Breakfast sorted.

With that taken care of, I returned to the bedroom, removed my trousers, and climbed onto the bed in nothing but my shorts.

Well, climbed wasn’t quite the word.

I threw myself onto it.

The sheets were still annoyingly neat, and I had never understood how anyone could sleep comfortably in a bed that looked as though nobody was supposed to touch it.

So I grabbed the edges of the bedding, tugged everything loose, and rearranged the sheets until the bed felt sufficiently cozy.

Much better.

I settled beneath the covers and closed my eyes.

And then I noticed something.

Her pillow smelled exactly like her.

Of course it fucking did.

Apparently, the woman had taken it upon herself to leave her scent on every conceivable surface.

The pillow. The blanket. The sheets.

Everywhere.

"Unbelievable," I muttered against the pillow.

Did she have absolutely no manners?

Who went around leaving their scent all over their own belongings?

And more importantly, why the fuck did she have to make it so difficult for me to sleep?

Because there I was, lying in her perfectly comfortable bed, surrounded by that maddeningly familiar scent, unable to get it out of my head.

Finally, I dozed off.