When Ilya arrived at the town, the market was dark and closed. Only a few streetlights illuminated the empty street. There was not a single whiff of jasmine, no matter how much he searched.
After four blocks without any hints of Adele, Ilya was so very worried.
Where is she?
A mental image of Adele in dreadful situations and her petrified expressions flashed in front of Ilya's eyes and he cursed under his breath.
Fuck.
Suddenly, Ilya saw a door opening. His handsome eyebrows came together when he saw an elderly woman with a bag of trash in her hand, coming out of the house. An old Omega in her late-sixties.
Ilya was off the bike immediately, approaching her. "Excuse me, ma'am. Is there a hotel or inn nearby. Or an Air-bnb? Does anyone offer a room here?"
The woman startled, then relaxed when she sensed no danger. "No, child. There are only a few old wolves here. We don't offer strangers a place to stay at night, for safety."
