Page 33 of Never Tamed
I blink up at him. “What do you mean?”
“Look at us—the four of us, within a few feet of each other and not at each other’s throats…”
“Torin in sweatpants,” I add.
I never would have guessed it in my wildest dreams.
“And getting his hands dirty.” Noble nods over to where his alpha listens to Mathis while trying to slide two stones together to create a spark on top of his collected wood pile. “If you told me last year that we’d be out here, working with the Grey Valley Pack, I’d think you had escaped from the loony bin.”
That’s how I feel on a daily basis.
“If you told me I would be mated to three werewolves and would turn into one myself, I would’ve probably slapped you,” I say.
He chuckles and jostles me. The mate bond flares with warmth. “This is because of you. You know that, right?”
“What is?” I play along. “The need for a straight jacket?”
“No. The peace between us, and our ability to get along.”
I memorize Noble from the side, this warrior with the soul of an artist. “Getting along is stretching it.”
“We’re not trying to kill each other, so I’d say it’s getting along.”
I shiver more out of familiarity than any real sense of cold. “It’s not me. It’s Andras, and the Blood Moons, coming for your packs. That’s what made you join forces.”
Heat crackles along my skin from his nearness and I lift my chin to meet Noble’s stare. “No, baby. It’s you. You’ve upheaved our lives in the best way.”
I rest my head against his shoulder for a beat, just long enough to feel the way his body eases with the contact. He smells so good, like home, and it eases me. It makes me feel steadier than I have in days.
To think I almost lost him.
My chest tightens.
When I pull back, he looks at me like he wants to say more, but doesn’t. Instead, he links our fingers, lifts our joined hands, and presses a kiss to my knuckles.
“I’m here, Ren,” he says as if he can read my mind—damn mate bond link. “I’m a little battered, but I’m here. We all are.”
We sit for a moment longer with our hands tangled. The quiet is thick and comforting between us. With a little help from Mathis, Torin finally gets the fire started. It’s puny, nothing but a whisper of flame. The rest of the sticks haven’t caught yet.
The grin on Torin’s face stretches wide. He’s so proud of himself and trying not to show me.
It’s kind of cute.
Okay, it’sreallycute.
Mathis, however, refuses to sit still. He stalks over the bank and stares across the creek, unmoving and unflinching. His mind is somewhere else where I can’t reach him.
If I tug on our bond, I sense his bone-deep anger and shame, his guilt. He’s not angry at anyone else.
This kind of fury is different, heavier, and pointed inward. He’s furious at himself.
Leaning in, Noble whispers, “Do you think the women on the radio… the ones they found dead…”
I already know where he’s going.
“…you think they were Mathis’s people?” he finishes, barely above a whisper. “And the pregnant one…?”
I nod. “I hope with everything I am that it’s not.”
