Page 87 of Never Tamed
Unable to watch the reunion a moment longer, I tear my gaze away and walk through the camp toward the dining hall. Inside, I hit a wall of reality.
Antiseptic, blood, and wolf thread the air in a tapestry of scents.
Volunteers move methodically between tables, now covered in pillows and blankets for makeshift beds, checking wounds, passing out food, and washing dirty faces.
Some of the newly freed omegas huddle together in a small, shivering cluster. Some sleep, curled up on threadbare blankets, their faces slack with fatigue. Others sit wide-eyed, staring intothe roaring fireplace like closing their eyes might make the horrors return to steal them again.
With a slow inhale, and a slower hissed exhale, I make my rounds. I’m their alpha. Well, the majority of them. I nod, I offer my hands, I murmur reassurance. Those gestures are small compared to the weight of what they’ve survived.
It doesn’t feel like enough. I do it anyway.
At the far side of the hall, a young omega, barely sixteen, is curled in on herself, hugging her knees, eyes puffy and red. She flinches at my approach. I don’t recognize her, which means she must be from the Steel Claws.
“Hey,” I say softly, crouching down so I’m at her level. “You’re safe now. No one’s going to hurt you again. You have my word.”
Her lips tremble and she looks away from me. “I… I just want my mom. Do you…Do you know where she is? Is she here?”
I’m about to ask her what her name is, but suddenly, the dining hall door bursts open, and a woman comes running in—her coat half off, hair wild. Panic is written all over her face.
“Lila!” she cries out, her gaze scanning the crowded space. When she swings our way, relief floods her and she rushes over. “Lila, oh, thank the Moon Goddess, you’re okay!”
“Mom!”
Dropping to her knees beside the girl, the mother flings her arms around her teen, both sobbing.
Ah, jeez.
I rise and drag my hands through my hair. My gut tightens.
As the two cling to each other, the mother peeks over to me, eyes shimmering with tears, and mouths the words, “Thank you.”
“Of course.” I squeeze the girl’s shoulder gently before moving to the next cot.
An older omega with streaked gray hair and a battered arm sits with her chin dropped to her chest. She’s from my pack, Abigail—a friend of my mother’s. An old faded scar runs along her jawline and now a jagged cut on her cheek has begun to scab.
Emotion beats at me. “Abigail? You okay?”
She blinks bleary eyes at me and offers a thin, tired smile. “You got us out,” she rasps. “You didn’t give up, just like your father.” Smiling, she reaches out with her unwounded hand and touches my cheek. “You look so much like him, you know. He would have been very proud of you, Mathis. And the alpha you’ve become.”
The words hit me harder than I expected. My lungs constrict, and for a moment, I see him in my mind, his kind eyes and proud smile.
“Thank you. That means a lot to me,” I manage. “Right now, all I care about is keeping you safe until you feel better.”
With a nod, I move on to the others. By the time I finish the rounds, checking to see that everyone is cared for and settled, exhaustion drags at me so hard I can barely stand.
It’s easy to forget that my body is healing, too.
The mental toll of the last few months has finally come to be paid.
I’m not ready yet.
I sink down on one of the benches against the wall, running a hand over my face to smooth out the wrinkles. There are a million things I should be doing now, like meeting with Torin and discussing our plans.
Rescuing the stolen pack members was just step one of a long list of things to do to beat Andras, and waiting it out isn’t an option. He’ll find us eventually. Running isn’t an option either, so going on the offensive is the only way forward.
Instead, I picture Flora with her children. I see Owen’s arms around her, his wolf knowing it was time to come home, and thenew baby on her chest. I see how much I want it, the power of the image a punch to the chest and an ache in my soul.
How long?
