Page 115 of Never Tamed
The storm has turned the forest into a white hell. Branches heavy with frost and snowdrifts pile up in treacherous mounds. The snarls and growls reverberate across the mountain, a symphony of a bloody war.
I crouch low in the snow, claws scraping ice, watching, waiting for Andras to make his appearance. He’s looking for me; I can feel it in my bones, but I can’t see him. I can smell him though, just faintly. The smell of black pepper and gasoline. Of madness.
He’s close.
Since my wolf is his opposite, I blend in with the storm seamlessly. It masks my presence, but even still, I don’t dare underestimate him. He’s already proved himself to be too ruthless and too clever to do that for even a second. It could cost me my life.
Snow churns red in front of me. Wolves battle with fangs and fury. It’s so chaotic, it’s hard to pick out the Grey Valley and Steel Claw wolves amongst the Blood Moons. I spot Mathis, though, in his animal form off to my right. He slams into a grey wolf with bone-cracking force and their bodies roll into one of the snowy mounds. Next to them is Noble, who fights like a stormunleashed, every strike brutal and unlike the sweet man I know him to be. And Torin—gods, Torin moves like a blade, even in his human form, each punch and jab taking down his opponent in an instant.
Even with the explosion in the sewers, more of the Blood Moons escaped than we had planned for, and their numbers only add to their strength.
But someone is missing.
Where’s Dax?I push the question through the mate bond. When no one answers, my chest tightens. Dax would have cut down half the Blood Moons by now.Has anyone seen him?
There’s a resounding no between my three mates, and the worry grows. He’s not a part of our bond, so I can’t feel him. I can’t sense his location or if he’s in trouble.
I could track him. Sniff him out.
But that would mean leaving Mathis, Torin, and Noble to take on Andras, plus all his wolves, themselves. I’m the Moon Goddess’s weapon. It’s up to me to restore balance and take him out.
I’m sure he’s fine,Mathis says as he licks the blood from his muzzle. The grey wolf lies dead beside him.He’s probably setting up for a sneak attack.
True. Dax is the most bloodthirsty and capable in a fight. I shouldn’t be worrying at all.
But still, I point my nose into the wind and sniff. The excess blood makes it hard to catch a whiff of anything else, but from what I can smell, there’s no sign of him close.
I don’t like this…
There’s a bad feeling in my gut telling me something’s wrong. Horribly wrong.
When I look up again, across the mayhem, my heart stops at the sight of Andras’s glowing red eyes staring directly at me. He has shifted, and his tongue lops out, showing off crimson-stained fangs. His fur is matted with blood, claw marks rake across his face, and his leg is badly bloodied and torn up.
He’s definitely been in a fight. But if he hasn’t been here, who—
He’s off and sprinting for me at full speed.
Shit.
Andras weaves through the trees, slicing through the fight like a shadow carved from night itself. He’s unbelievably large and impossibly fast, but, in a sea of white, his black fur stands out. He can’t hide or sneak up on anyone here.
That’s his disadvantage. One I’m going to make sure I use against him.
I break from cover, snow exploding under my feet. I’m faster than the wind itself, faster than anything should be. My body surges forward, and my paws barely touch the ground. Then, the world narrows to a tunnel of black and white, my heartbeat syncing with the rhythm of the earth, driving me faster.
Head whipping around, Andras stops in the center of the melee. He’s lost sight of me. I can tell because his nostrils flare, trying to catch my scent.
I slip around silently, and in a heartbeat, I’m behind him and close enough to see the blood smeared into his black pelt, close enough to strike.
My lips peel back, and I launch myself at him.
Andras spins suddenly, muscles coiling, eyes blazing. There’s only a flash of fangs as he snaps his jaws at me, but I roll last second, tucking my paws beneath me. When I pop back up to my feet, he turns and regards me, head tilting.
Yeah, it’s me, you asshole. I’m going to be the one to kill you.
He raises his snout to the sky and lets out a howl of triumph. The sound rips through the forest, low and guttural, rattling the marrow in my bones.
He thinks he’s already won.
