Page 14 of Never Tamed
Another injury. If we weren’t wolves, we’d be prey, and some hunter would come along to put us out of our misery. Only the strong survive.
How much fucking longer before we’re taken out permanently?
Shaking my head, I follow the others away from the skeleton of the SUV. The engine clicks and clacks.
“My first car.”
A mournful howl forces its way out because I know how much it will piss the others off. Because we need to keep that fire of fury going, otherwise they’ll go the same route I will. They’ll crash and then we’ll get nowhere before Andras sets his goons on us.
The ones I didn’t crush under my tires, anyway.
Noble jostles me on his way past, the black eye blooming across his face all the way to his brow bone. Whatever bone they snapped in his leg has at least become a whole, if fragile, piece again.
He growls at me. “You dick.”
“I’ll take it as a compliment, Nobie.”
I keep to the side of the road with my dick swinging and my bare feet calloused enough not to feel the small pebbles and dirtand roots. The glass is gonna be a problem, though. I’m slow to heal, to push it out, to cover the wound with fresh skin. Fuck.
We fall into a rhythm on the walk, with me leading the pack and Red in Torin’s arms. Noble keeps a lookout at the rear, where he belongs, but even the petty bullshit argument between us feels hollow.
We both lack the backbone for anything substantial right now.
What the hell are we going to do? Andras had his plans out in the open but it left us nowhere. We hadn’t lost anyone at the chapel thanks to Torin’s selfishness in going alone. How long?
How long until Andras and Catarina—what a fucking combination—come for us at the camp?
“You know where you’re going?” Torin calls to me.
“Playing it by ear. Or nose,” I retort.
Does it matter? Does any of it matter as long as we get the fuck awayfrom the church? The pressing need to hide engulfs my senses until even the forest is a blur.
Torin scoffs. “You’re leading us right to the river. You planning on making an escape out to the bay?”
“The bay leads to the ocean.” Mathis’s voice is leaden. “Not a bad idea. We can steal a boat, set sail—”
We both know they’ll never go through with it. They’re not going to leave what’s left of our combined packs. Why should they? The alphas have worked too hard to throw it all away.
Besides, they aren't built for retreat. They’re built for battle.
Andras came intoourterritory. He started this shit years ago. Why should we have to run with our tails tucked between our fucking legs? Like we’re the animals and he’s the hunter with a gun?
Screw that.
We keep walking, and the sun overhead makes a molasses-slow arc across the sky. The trees blur and the punishing blue winter sky mocks us.
If the Goddess is out there, she sure as shit didn’t help us today.
She didn’t help Red.
Eventually the scent of water and detritus and oil assaults the inside of my nose and the trees thin. Grey Mountain is a distant smudge behind us as the river widens into a port attached to its mouth.
The bay beyond does head to the ocean, but all that open expanse has never sat easily with me.
Gulls snap at the surface of the water and come up with nothing but garbage for their efforts. The stench of decaying fish and trash only gets stronger as we head down to the shore and find a gravel path winding its way forward.
This place.
