Page 23 of Never Tamed (Bad Wolves #3)

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.”

It churns my stomach, smelling it again and brings back a slew of memories. I shake it off.

“No offense, sweetheart, but I don’t give a fuck about Rudy. Where is Andras keeping them?” Mathis reaches for my hand and tugs me away from the pelts.

I hadn’t realized I’d clenched them.

Excitement bubbles in my veins. “It’s made at a local brewery. Or it was. But the place was closed down. I guess there wasn’t much of a market for it because it tasted like literal ass. South side of town over by the train tracks.”

“Abandoned?” Dax asks.

I blink snowflakes out of my eyes. “I’m pretty sure, yeah. I don’t know if they ran out of money and just split or what. I haven’t driven there myself.”

Dragging in another deep breath, the stale scent of the liquor scalds the inside of my nostrils. Yup, it’s the same gut rot. I’d recognize it everywhere. I’m shocked that the others aren't smelling it.

I have no idea why they aren’t catching a whiff. Heartbreak, maybe. It’s dulled their senses. I don’t blame them.

I glance at Dax, who shrugs like he’s absolutely okay with me being the only one with the preternatural senses.

Torin watches me appraisingly and Mathis is…well, Mathis glares.

“We have to go,” I say.

A goal. A destination. Something tangible to latch onto where we’ve been floundering and surviving for so long.

“We’ll go to the old factory and see what’s going on,” I finish.

Noble is a whisper in my head, present through the bond. Baby, no . It’s too dangerous.

“You really don’t want—” Torin starts.

Dax stalks away, disgust twisting his features into a sneer. “Should have known the pretty boy wouldn’t want to get his suit dirty. Fucking bullshit.”

Torin bristles. “I never said we wouldn’t go, dickhead. I’m talking about caution.”

“Caution.” Mathis spits out the word. “We’re dying on the vine. There’s nothing left of us. We finally have a destination in mind.”

“That we should carefully appraise before going off the fucking handle and destroying ourselves.” Torin gestures toward the burnt buildings. The glow of flames turns his hair into gold. “You want to throw it all away? Be my guest. But I’m not risking our mate by being stupid.”

I’m torn in two directions. Both of the alphas are correct. We can’t sit around doing nothing. On the other hand, barging in with guns blazing and no research is a sure way to make a mistake.

I shift my weight from foot to foot and weigh the options against the small voice in my head urging me to move.

“What do you want to do?” I ask out loud.

Clearly we’ll have to go and check it out , Noble supplies. They came from the sewers once.

A blast of Arctic wind picks up and I wrap my arms around myself to keep warm. Growling, Dax shifts and draws me into his arms.

“How much do we want to bet that the sewer lines run underneath the old factory?” Torin shakes his head. “I admit, it’s the perfect cover. I can’t imagine how bad the shit smells in person.”

There, again, like I’m the only one nearly barfing in my mouth from the liquor. “Why can't the rest of you smell it? You’re wolves. Isn’t it kind of your thing? You can smell things?”

Dax drops his hand down on my head and scrubs my hair roughly. “You’ve got a super nose, Red.”

A super nose, stone and sword. I add another mental rock to the bucket of Things That Make Ren Special and hate every second of it.

“I couldn’t even smell what else was there. But you do?” Dax chuckles dryly. “It’s one of your superpowers.”

“And Dax can track a flea through a snowstorm.” Except Mathis still doesn’t look happy about it.

I reach down the bond for him and brush hesitantly against the chaos of his mind. We’ll find them . One way or another, we’re going to get the omegas back .

It takes him a moment to answer. I’m not worried about finding them. I just hope the rest are in one piece .

The pelts are definitely not a good sign, which is probably why I stop myself from thinking about them, or looking. If I close my eyes, I’ll catch the iron stench of blood and fear also clinging to the fur.

Death and violence.

At least one of the owners of these furs was still alive when Andras began his torture. I shudder and Torin reaches for me. Dax growls low under his breath but a quick snap of teeth from Torin, the alpha in this case, silences him.

“Come on.” Torin takes my hand. “Let’s go home.”

Home really is where you make it. Both of the alphas had their homes taken from them. But we have a place to recover.

I brush my fingers against Dax’s forearm and walk with Torin, resting my face on his shoulder.

The factory is definitely worth a look. We owe it to our fallen to check it out, as quickly as possible. Noble is still the voice of reason.

“Going in unprepared is suicidal,” Torin replies.

Dax scoffs. “Who the fuck are you talking to?”

“Noble,” Mathis grinds out.

Dax jerks like he’s been slapped. “Care to fucking fill me in, then? Since I’m not part of your super awesome mental conversation?”

My heart goes out to Dax. “We’re going to the factory. We just need to do some research first.”

“Well, Andras won’t be expecting an attack so soon. He thinks we’ll be rattled by this.” Dax blinks, and a pall shifts over his face.

Like he’s suddenly gone, although his body stays in place—there, and not. Just like that.

My heart lurches against my ribs and Torin draws me closer. Shivering, I let him hold me, feeling my three mates crowd into my head with equal concern.

His idea of a joke is really nasty , Noble warns.

Mathis growls and cuts his hand through the air. “No jokes. We end this now. We have a general idea of where Andras is. Get the deltas and the gammas on research immediately, Noble. We should have the info in place by the time we get back.”

He shakes his head.

“I’ve had enough. Andras is a hundred steps ahead of us and this fucking mockery with the pelts? These are my people. Their lives. Because I’m not strong enough to put a stop to it.”

“We lost our weapons when my building burned. Another gift of Andras. So don’t lecture me about it, Mathis. You’re not the only one who’s been impacted.” Torin growls but a shiver races through him.

Mathis laughs darkly. “You haven’t lost the people I have.”

“So what do you want to do? Jeopardize more?” Torin tosses back. “Go after Andras without a plan? We haven’t researched the place. We don’t know the schematics. He probably has traps everywhere for us because he knows this is exactly the kind of shit you do.”

It’s easy enough, Noble begins, to pull up a diagram of the old place. If I match it with the schematics of the underground sewer lines, then yes, I bet they intersect.

I repeat it out loud for Dax’s benefit.

The moment I fall silent, he says, “I’ll drive.”

“The sooner we get this over with the better. We’ll figure out the logistics on the way. How far is the old warehouse, love?” Mathis calls the question back to me.

The reek has penetrated my nostrils, hooking slimy fingers into the fabric of our clothes. I don’t want to look at the pelts on the way past. The smell isn’t any better out in the open and the bright sun on snow feels mocking.

But we’re going to get Flora— if one of the bodies in the sewer wasn’t here and she’s still alive. Gods, I hope so.

That thought burns a hole through my skull. We’re going to find her, because these pelts are a brutal reminder of what we’ve lost, but I have to believe she’s alive.

We . The thought clangs around in the midst of our footsteps stomping through snow. Somewhere along the line, Mathis and his wolves have become mine. And damn it if I’m not proprietary over them. Maybe it happened with the mate bond, maybe not. I’m not sure.

I only know when we shift into wolves and haul ass back home, the lack of preparation doesn’t feel as intimidating anymore.

The sun’s setting by the time we cut out of the forest around the old YMCA camp. Noble comes out to meet us with his cell phone ready and Hendrickson behind him.

Schematics, yes. And maps. And old images of the site plans uploaded to the city’s servers.

But sleep comes, the way it does. I nestle between Noble and Torin when Mathis announces his unwillingness to rest.

He’s going over the maps again, and again, until his eyes bleed. Dax takes off to the woods with a piece of me trailing after him. There’s nothing I can do for them, I think as I snuggle into Noble’s familiar warmth.

Not tonight, anyway.

But tomorrow…

The five of us pile into an SUV with Mathis at the wheel and Noble navigating from the middle seat. The old address of the warehouse, the thought of the city, feels like I’m stepping into a different life. A different world.

The rescue we’re launching is flimsy at best. A handful of wolves follow us in two more SUVs and something shifts inside of me.

It’s not excitement.

I’m not sure what to call it but I strap myself in and lean toward the dash, licking my lips. Maybe it’s vengeance and I’m looking for a better way to dress up the package, to make it more palatable.

Maybe I’m thirsty to pay Andras and his pet bitch back for the damage they’ve caused. The pain they’ve inflicted can’t go without retaliation. I’m not saying I’m the one to do it—