22. Ren
Chapter 22
Ren
M y hands are shaking. Not the violent tremors that come when I’m behind the wheel, but small trembles that I can’t quite control. The SUV keys feel impossibly heavy in my palm, each metal ridge digging into my skin like an accusation.
You’re going to fail them again .
I close my fingers around the keys until the edges bite into my flesh. The pain helps, gives me something to focus on besides the memories threatening to surface. Besides the phantom scent of blood and burning rubber that always lingers at the edges of my consciousness.
“You don’t have to do this.” Stone’s voice is quiet beside me, steady in that way that usually anchors me. But right now, his calm only feeds the restless energy under my skin. Why the fuck is he here? Wasn’t he supposed to go to the shed?
“Yes, I do.” The words come out harsh, grating against my throat. I force myself to take a breath. “We need to find her. All hands on deck, right?”
Stone’s expression doesn’t change, but I can smell the concern rolling off him in waves. He’s always been able to read me too well. Even now, standing in the pre-dawn darkness of our driveway, I can feel his eyes tracking every minute tremor, every hitched breath.
“Ren—”
“Stone.” I cut him off before he can offer the out we both know I want to take. “Just…don’t.”
The keys are cutting deeper into my palm now. Good. Pain is better than fear. Better than the crushing weight of unease that’s been sitting on my chest since he told us about the omega girl. Since we realized how close she’d been this whole time, while we were blind to her presence.
While Stone kept her secret.
The surge of anger that accompanies that thought catches me off guard. I’ve never been good at staying angry with Stone. He’s too steady, too careful with his choices. If he kept her hidden, he must have had his reasons.
But fuck if it doesn’t hurt.
“We should check the northern trails first.” My voice sounds strange to my own ears, too controlled. “She couldn’t have gotten far on foot.”
Stone shifts beside me, and I catch another wave of his scent—pine and wood smoke and guilt. So much guilt. Part of me wants to reach for him, to ease that burden the way he’s always done for me. But I can’t. Not yet. Not when everything feels so raw.
“The creek would have slowed her down,” he agrees quietly. “And there are caves in that area where she might have sought shelter.”
Caves where she might freeze to death, only leaving more blood on our hands. My hands.
Fuck. I shouldn’t care. She’s not our omega, despite what Stone says. He’s always been too sentimental for his own good.
But even as I think that, something distinctly familiar clenches in my chest. Because from what Stone described, I know exactly what happened to that omega .
I know…when I shouldn’t.
The keys in my palm feel like a fucking joke now. Like some twisted metaphor—here’s your shot at normal, asshole. Here’s your chance at redemption. As if anything could redeem what I’ve done. What I’ve seen.
What I let happen.
My knuckles are still split from putting my fist through my bedroom wall last night. The pain grounds me, keeps the memories at bay. Almost.
“Fuck!” The keys go flying, hitting the gravel with a sound that’s too much like chains rattling. My stomach heaves, and I barely make it to the bushes before bringing up whatever the hell I managed to choke down yesterday.
“Ren—” Stone’s voice, too close.
“Don’t—” It comes out as a growl. “Don’t fucking touch me right now.”
He doesn’t come closer—smart man—but I can feel his concern like an itch under my skin. Makes me want to turn around and show him exactly why he shouldn’t waste his time worrying about me. Show him the monster hiding behind all these pathetic attempts at normalcy.
The laugh that tears out of my throat sounds unhinged even to my ears. Normal. Right. Like I ever had a shot at that.
That’s why I fucked this all up. I was pretending to be something I’m not.
“If you’re not up for this—” Stone starts.
“I’m fine .” The words taste like battery acid. Like the lies I’ve been choking on for years.
“Clearly,” he drawls, and something in me snaps.
I whirl on him, fists clenched. “You got something to say? Fucking say it.”
Stone doesn’t back down—he never does, the stubborn bastard—but his hands come up, placating. “Just worried about you, man. ”
“Don’t be.” I shoulder past him, needing to move, to run, to fight. Something. Anything to drown out the screaming in my head.
Memories threatening to surface that I’d buried a long fucking time ago.
My fist connects with the side of the SUV before I realize I’ve moved. The pain is sharp, immediate. Real. Not like the ghosts that won’t leave me alone.
“Jesus, Ren!” Stone’s there again, reaching for me, and I bare my teeth.
“Back. Off.”
He does, but his scent spikes with frustration and concern. Makes my instincts roar to life, wanting to challenge, to dominate, to…
No. I’m not like them. Never like them.
I turn to the car. Fuck, I just need to get in, take it around to the front, and help my brothers find this fucking omega. Then we’ll deal with the shitshow that will definitely come after.
But as I hunch my shoulders and face the vehicle, it’s like my senses go dark, honing on to a single memory.
The crunch of metal. The screech of tires. The way blood looks black in the moonlight.
“Ren.” Stone’s voice breaks through the memory, closer now. His hand hovers near my shoulder, not quite touching. “You head to the shed. I’ll take the car around.”
“No.” The word comes out strangled. “I need to do this. I need to?—”
“Ren!”
Jax’s voice cuts through the air like a gunshot.
Footsteps on gravel. He heads toward us, but something’s wrong. His scent hits me—sharp surprise and something else—and every predatory instinct I’ve spent years trying to bury comes roaring to the surface.
“We need to talk.” His voice is tight. Controlled. “Both of you. Now . ”
Alpha fucking command.
Stone tenses. “What happened? Is Finn?—”
“She’s here.”
The world goes sideways, then snaps back into focus with brutal clarity. Blood roars in my ears as understanding hits.
“The omega,” I rasp, and suddenly I can’t breathe. Can’t think past the memories flooding back.
Dark rooms. Muffled screams. The bitter scent of omega terror as they begged…
And then the memory of that night two and a half years ago. The night I killed Finn. The night I destroyed my pack.
“What?”
“She’s here,” Jax repeats, his voice dropping to barely more than a whisper. “In the house.” He pauses as if he can’t even believe the next words he’s about to say. “ She’s in his nest .”
“No.” The word tears out of me like it’s being ripped from somewhere vital. “No… No…”
“Ren?” Stone again, always fucking Stone with his concern and his questions and his…
My fist connects with the SUV again. And again. Metal dents under the assault, but I barely feel it. Can’t feel anything past the rage and guilt and bone-deep terror that they’ll find out. That they’ll know what I am. What I was.
What I let happen.
Strong hands grab me from behind. I react on instinct—spinning, snarling, ready to tear apart whoever dared…
Jax. It’s Jax. Our alpha. My alpha. Our leader. The one person who might take me in a fight, and right now I want to test that theory. Want to push until something breaks. Until I break.
“Stand down.” His voice carries alpha command, but I’m too far gone to care.
“Or what?” I snarl, shoving him back. “You’ll put me down like the rabid dog I am?”
“Fuck, Ren.” Stone sounds scared now. Good. He should be .
“You want to know what I am?” The words pour out, toxic and burning. “You want to know what kind of monster you let into your pack?”
“Ren, stop.” Jax’s voice is steel, but I can’t stop. Can’t breathe past the confession trying to claw its way out of my throat.
“I’ve seen this before.” My laugh is razor-sharp, drawing blood. “The marks. The fear.”
The basement door creaking open. The smell of terror and…
Muddled in with their mixed emotions, I can see Jax and Stone’s confusion. They don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about. They must think I’m going fucking insane. Or they think I’m talking about what they know. About the accident. And that’s all right. I slam my fist into the truck again, metal buckling under the impact. Better. Better to hurt than to remember. Better to bleed than to talk. Better to suffer in pain than to let them know.
“Ren, stop!” Stone reaches for me.
I whirl on him, teeth bared. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“This isn’t helping—” The punch comes out of nowhere. Jax’s fist connects with my jaw, snapping my head back. The pain is bright, clarifying. Real .
I stagger, tasting blood, and for a moment all I can feel is gratitude. This, I understand. This, I deserve.
“Hit me again.” It comes out pleading. “Come on, alpha. Show me what happens to pieces of shit like me.”
“No.” Jax’s voice is quiet now. Deadly quiet. “We’re going inside. We’re going to sit down. And we’re going to figure out what the hell we’re going to do.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll have to decide if you’re too unstable to be around Finn right now.”
The words hit harder than any punch could. Cut deeper than any knife. Because he’s right. In this state, I’m dangerous. To everyone. Even …
“Fuck.” I slam my already bleeding fist into the ground. Once. Twice. Until Stone grabs my wrist.
“Ren…quit it.” His voice shakes. “Breaking your wrist isn’t going to help anything.”
I look up at him, at both of them, and see it. Not the fear. The worry. The dawning understanding that maybe they never really knew me at all.
“The porch,” Jax says quietly. Not a suggestion. An order.
I follow them because what else can I do? Because maybe it’s time. Maybe they deserve to know exactly what kind of monster I really am.
Maybe then they’ll finally do what should have been done years ago, and put me down for good.
The wooden steps creak under our weight as we settle. The house isn’t even old, but Finn liked it. Said the creaks gave it character, so we bought it. I thought I could like it, too.
I don’t…
I don’t know if that’s possible anymore.
That part of me that should be able to feel…it’s gone. And that’s about to be clear.
I hiss out a breath. Jax and Stone sit while I pace like the caged animal I am. The silence stretches, heavy with questions no one wants to ask.
Finally, Stone speaks. “Tell me exactly what you scented.”
“Vanilla and honey,” Jax says. I can’t even respond. Too busy trying to keep my fists unclenched. “Mixed with Finn’s scent. They were perfuming.”
My laugh comes out like broken glass. “Of course, they were.”
“You want to share what that means?” Stone’s voice is careful. Too careful.
“No.” I keep pacing, five steps one way, turn, five steps back. Like the cages they kept…No. Stop.
“Ren.” Jax’s voice carries warning now. “If you know something about this situation?— ”
“I don’t know shit.” The lie burns, but it’s familiar. Practiced. “Just seen it before, that’s all.”
“In your work with troubled omegas?” Stone asks. He’s talking about my parents’ charity. The same one that hosted the gala where we met Finn.
I bare my teeth at him. He has no fucking idea. “Sure. Let’s go with that.”
“Bullshit.” Jax stands, blocking my path. “This is more than that. The way you’re acting?—”
“The way I’m acting?” I get in his face, challenge singing in my blood. “How should I be acting, alpha? You want me to sit pretty and play nice while?—”
I cut myself off, chest heaving. Too close. That was too close.
“While what?” Stone pushes.
“Nothing.” I spin away, resuming my pacing. “We need to secure the perimeter. Make sure the cameras are all working. Make sure?—”
“Why?” Jax’s question is sharp. “You expecting trouble?”
Yes. Always. They never stop looking. Never stop hunting…
“She was running from something.” I grit out. “You know that. The way Stone described her was clear.” And I hope they take my strange reaction as just me being, I don’t know, fucking wise or some bullshit. We need some Einstein to parse that this omega was running from some deep shit.
“Didn’t expect you to react so strongly… Didn’t expect you to care at all, Ren.” Stone is watching me, brow furrowed.
“I don’t.” It comes out low and deadly. “I only care about Finn. There are two omegas in our house now, and one of them is already hanging by a goddamn thread!”
Silence falls. I can feel them exchanging looks behind my back. Reading things in my reaction that I can’t afford for them to see.
“He’s right,” Jax says carefully. “We need to think about Finn here. We’re only just starting to find some kind of balance?—”
“You think I don’t know that?” Stone sounds annoyed. “You think I don’t realize what this could do to him? But what the fuck are we supposed to do? Throw her back out there?”
“No one’s saying that,” Jax cuts in, his voice low and steady. “But we need to be smart about this. She needs medical attention?—”
“No.” The word comes out like a whip crack. “No doctors. No strangers. Not yet.”
“Ren—”
“I said no!”
“Give us a reason,” Jax demands.
Because they’ll ask questions. Because they’ll see the marks. Because they’ll report it and then they’ll find her and Finn and…
“Because I fucking said so,” I snarl instead. “Because I’m the one with experience here, remember? The one who’s dealt with… troubled omegas .” I stop, breathing hard. “Just trust me on this. Please .”
The ‘please’ costs me. Makes me feel weak. Pathetic. But it works.
“Two days,” Jax says finally. “We wait two days. Then we call Dr. Greene.”
I want to argue. Want to fight. But I can feel my control slipping, feel the darkness rising up to choke me. If I push harder, I’ll break. And when I break…
“Fine.” I turn away, heading for the stairs. “I’m getting blankets. She’ll need somewhere to sleep.”
“Ren.” Stone’s voice stops me. “Whatever this is…whatever you’re not telling us…we can help.”
For a moment—one weak, pathetic moment—I want to tell them. Want to confess everything. Want to let them see all my ugly truths and just…end this.
But I can’t. Because then they’d know. And knowing would put them in danger. Would put Finn in danger.
So I do what I’ve done for years. I lie .
“There’s nothing to tell.” My voice comes out dead. Empty. “I just want Finn safe.”
I don’t wait for a response. Can’t bear to see the doubt in their eyes. The growing suspicion. I head inside, taking the stairs two at a time, needing to put distance between us before I crack.
Focus on what you can control, I tell myself, pulling down blankets from the storage with shaking hands. Focus on protecting Finn. That’s all that matters.
Everything else—the guilt, the rage, the memories threatening to drown me—has to wait. Has to be buried. Locked away in that dark place where I keep all my secrets.
Because if they ever got out…
I grab another blanket, a soft blue fleece that smells like pack and home and everything I don’t deserve. Everything I’ll destroy if I’m not careful.
Never again, I promise silently, fiercely. They won’t touch what’s mine. Not this time.
Even if it means becoming the monster I’ve spent years trying to escape.
Even if it means losing everything.
Even if it means losing myself.