Page 32 of Never Tamed
The rest of us gather around, breathing heavy. A deep ache settles into my bones and into the bruises I’ve been pretending don’t hurt. There’s a moment where no one moves—like we’re waiting for something. Permission. A sign.
Then Mathis speaks, voice quiet but clear. “This is where my dad and I found him.”
My head snaps up.
“Here?” Torin asks, gaze scanning over the snow-covered landscape.
Mathis nods somberly. “I’ll never forget it.”
Apparently Dax hasn’t either.
“It was a long time ago,” Dax whispers, his voice fractured, “but I always find myself coming back.”
The poignancy of the moment isn’t lost on me. I push away from Mathis and step closer to Dax, lifting my hand to touch him, unsurprised when he grabs it and presses it to his heart.
“Do you remember anything before you ended up here?”
His gaze is pinned on the creek and he says nothing.
Torin walks Noble over to the closest birch tree to lean against, then glances between Mathis and Dax, his gaze skipping over me. “If we’re stopping here then we should get to work. I smell another storm rolling in. We’ll need a fire and shelter. So what can we do?”
Dax stomps against the ice along the creek’s edge. “You’re asking us?”
“This is your territory, asshole,” Torin barks. “It’s called respect.”
“The Steel Claws have never rubbed two sticks together to make a fire? I’m not surprised.” Dax chuckles darkly.
Torin growls.
“Don’t start bickering,” I say to them all. “We need to work together.”
The guys all exchange looks.
“She’s right,” Noble replies first. “Arguing isn’t going to help anyone. Mathis, Dax—tell us how we can help.”
As close as they were to each other’s throats a few seconds ago, the men divvy out chores with precision. They move to clear the space and gather what little dried twigs and logs they can for warmth.
This is their territory, not mine. Their area of expertise.
I kneel by the water, touch the edge with my fingertips. It’s freezing, and I let it sting. The snap of cold helps clear my head and the pressing urgency of my own wounds still left to heal. My side pinches still.
Torin walks along the perimeter, collecting small sticks and fallen branches for a fire. Dax disappears in search of food while Mathis digs a large pit in the snow.
“Ren,” Noble beckons me over as he sinks to the ground and stretches out his legs. “Sit with me.”
Noble’s back rests against the frost-bitten tree. I slide down into the snow with a sigh. Being near him eases the chill.
“You okay?” I ask, nudging his arm gently with my shoulder.
He exhales a dry laugh, the breath visible in the cold. “Define okay. I’m annoyed. I’m worried. I see the way you push through.”
“Annoyed?”
“I hate feeling useless. My leg has healed but not enough.”
I chuckle. I can’t help it. “Try to think of this as the vacation you wanted.”
“Oh, sure.” He gestures to the white around us. “This is a far cry from sandy beaches and fruity drinks.” There’s a pause. And then he sighs. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”
