Page 30 of Never Tamed
The taxi rolls past the city line faster than the speed limit, where steel and glass buildings shrink behind us and the wilderness of Grey Valley forest takes hold.
From the backseat, squished between two massive werewolves, I watch through the streaked windshield as the skyline fades from man-made to nature-made. Skyscrapers and apartments are replaced by tall trees, asphalt by decaying leaves and a thin layer of frosty snow that gets thicker with every mile.
No one speaks.
Silence buzzes in my ears, louder than the drum of the engine or the clang of the left back wheel. The cab smells like spice, chicken, coffee, old leather, and people. Lots of people. I smell them in layers—their sweat, perfume, shampoo, home, pets.
I want to focus on the scents and identifying each layer because it’s better than remembering Flora’s smile. And worrying about whether or not she’s the one the cops found.
Whether or not I’ll see her again.
Eyes closed, I breath in, sensing every person who sat in the van recently. It’s overwhelming and tickles my nose, making my eyes burn more than they already do.
Beneath it all, I still smell the blood on us, dried, clotted, soaked into our clothes and under our nails. A quick glance around shows me that none of the guys seem to be affected by the smells. They’re probably just used to these hyper-wolf senses. I’m not.
It's a lot. Yet it’s still not distracting me from the weight of Mathis’s loss.Ourloss. Flora was the nicest person to me, the first friend I had on this side of life.
I want to cry, yell, break down, but after everything, I don’t even have the energy to do it. Exhaustion clings. So, I wrap my arms tighter around myself and keep my tears at bay.
Another few miles and maybe I’ll be able to give in to them. Or maybe I won’t.
Poor Mathis.
My heart cries out for him. He hasn’t spoken much since the radio announced Andras's cruelty.
Mathis’s fists haven’t unclenched and his jaw is so tight I see the muscle twitch from here. He’s vibrating at the edge of his control, on the verge of shifting, I think. He won’t do it, not here—not in front of a human and a stranger.
Still, it radiates off him like heat and changes the tenor of the bond between us. I taste his grief, his rage.
It’s breaking him apart inside.
We’re physically and mentally wrecked as a unit. Noble’s broken leg has healed but he’s still shaky and his skin pale and clammy. The bumps in the road hit us like punches.
Torin checks the mirror on repeat as though Andras will rise from the ground behind us.
Dax hasn’t stopped fidgeting from his “seat” in the trunk, where he’s more comfortable.
How are we going to make it back to our packs? The camp is too far to reach on foot tonight. Especially with us still licking wounds and the snow a foot deep. We’re hungry. We’re beyond tired.
Now, we’re grieving.
The van finally slows and it feels like a relief and a mistake at the same time. Our driver doesn’t ask questions, just stops near a break in the road where the forest swallows everything in its path.
Dax is the first out, kicking open the trunk and leaping into the snow on all fours. Lifting his head, he puts his nose to the wind and scans the treeline with primal instinct. After a beat, he nods.
“We need to move fast,” he says but glances at Noble. “As fast as we can. Let’s go.”
No one argues. We climb out of the van and watch it turn around and drive off before stepping off the road. At least the driver was smart enough to not ask anymore questions. He was probably super happy to get rid of us.
Torin sneers at the treeline and stomps to clear the flakes from the bottom of his pants. “We’ll never make it to camp today in this snow.”
“We can if we shift.” Dax shakes his head. “We could probably make it by dawn if we run.”
Torin snorts. “Noble can’t shift like this and neither can Ren. Not without jeopardizing their bodies.”
Dax meets eyes with Mathis, but the alpha doesn’t say anything. They’re doing that weird silent communication thingagain. Like they can read each other’s mind. Not like the mate bond link—something else.
I’m not sure if it’s years of working side by side or something else, something deeper than solidarity and friendship.
