The rain had turned into a steady, cold drizzle, washing the grime of the city into the gutters.
Vali dropped to all fours. He didn't care about the mud ruining his expensive velvet breeches. His nostrils flared, inhaling the complex tapestry of the night.
He smelled oil. Rotting fish. The ozone of the storm.
And underneath it all, the sharp, pungent stench of mange and wet feathers.
"Got them," Vali growled low in his throat. He pointed a clawed finger toward a narrow alleyway branching off the main pier. "They went left. They are stopping to eat."
Jax watched the Wolf Cub with a mixture of shock and respect. "You tracked them through the rain? That scent trail is over an hour old."
"I am a Wolf," Vali snapped, his eyes glowing faint red in the dark. "And they touched my pack. I could track them across the ocean."
