Page 72 of Never Tamed
Pieces of me crack.
No matter how hard I try, even as his brother and alpha, this is for him to battle. But Ren, well, she’s become his only root in this world.
It’s not just Dax. She calms all our fears. She brings out the best in us.Allof us.
Once Dax’s gruff murmurs quiet enough, and color returns to his face, she moves closer to the smoldering ruins of the house.
“Be careful,” Torin calls to her from behind us. “Don't get too close.”
With a glance over her shoulder, she nods and moves over to the pelts. Fuck. I don’t want her there. The picture of her, a bright spot of life surrounded by death and destruction and pain, it’s more than I can bear.
But this fearless woman only leans in with her nose inches from the coarse fur. She keeps her hand outstretched toward us, like she’s the one worried, and her nostrils flare while she draws in a scent.
“Sweetheart—” I start.
There’s no way she’s going to be able to get anything from it. They’re too damaged, too burned up to smell like anything but fire, charred wood, and blood.
“Those are the omegas,” I say quietly. “I know Andras is using their deaths and their pelts as a message to me. Just like he did with the explosion of Torin’s tower.”
Ren doesn’t look at me. She refuses to break her concentration and continues to sniff with her brow wrinkled in thought. Then, finally, she shifts away. “None of them smell familiar. None of these are Flora, at least.”
Her words hit me like cold water. “How do you know?”
“No wolf’s nose isthatgood,” Torin says as he walks over.
“Not even Dax’s,” I add, which is true. “And he’s the best tracker we have.”
Ren lifts her shoulders in a half-shrug. “I don’t know. But none of these are Flora. Actually, I don’t think any of them are from either of your pack. They’re older. The individual scents are too small to make out.”
I don’t know how she could know. She sounds so certain and confident. Hope is a terrible thing to flicker in my chest but I can’t erase it.
My fingers curl at my sides.
“There’s something else,” she says.
I glance at her. “What?”
“Yeah, something faint, but it’s there.” Her nostrils flare again, and she clicks her tongue, tasting the air, as she thinks. “And it’s familiar… Very familiar. I know that smell. I know…”
Torin snorts. “What the hell is she talk—”
“I know!” She shouts suddenly, eyes glowing liquid gold in the firelight. Her excitement buzzes through the mate bond and washes over me, making my heartrate speed up. “I know exactly where Andras is keeping the omegas.”
Chapter 18
Ren
I’ll be damned.
Andras can’t be this stupid, can he? Or maybe he doesn’t realize, although it’s pretty far-fetched to think a man like him won’t scent the liquor on the pelts. It’s a distinctive scent of yeast and oak. A fetid sweetness, a sickening rot.
That’s what I used to call it at Rudy’s, whenever he’d get a case in from the local brewery. Gut rot.
It corroded the insides of anyone dumb enough to take a sip but we still had regulars who insisted the local beverage was one of the best things they’d ever tasted.
Probably because they wanted oblivion and knew the best way to get there was to drown themselves in this disgusting brew with the highest alcohol content I’d ever seen.
“Rudy used to sell this liquor," I tell the others, straightening. “It’s awful. Some kind of combination of florals and hop.”
