Page 106 of Untamed

Abbi-Wolf blinks at us, her eyes darting back and forth from One-Eye to me. Eyes like Rooster. I remember her from when she stared at my male for too long, but I don't recall this version of Abbi-Wolf.

Gone are the tight, too-red clothes. Her clothes are plain, just those blue pants every wolf wears all the time and a white shirt with smudges of paint on the hem. The sleek, shiny hair is a barely-tamed mess in a braid hanging crookedly down her back. Her lips are bitten pink instead of painted red, and the only color on her eyes is reddened tears.

Poor little Abbi-Wolf. Her soul is like my mother's, an artist, a creator. She'll never be a warrior, never be a killer. She's not even one of those females who smell of sex and want to do the sex withmyMactiir.

"You are the blood-price our luna must pay," One-Eye continues to say coldly.

The Abbi-Wolf just blinks up at her, her shock evident.

"Well, come on," One-Eye says impatiently. "Don't you know there's a war coming?"

"I think it's here," Abbi-Wolf says sadly.

I pace to the window and look out at the trees. They bend and sway, a warning. Abbi-Wolf is right. My Mactiir is here, and he's brought war with him.

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Alpha Jax

"I must go be with her," Snow demands stubbornly.

I repress the scoff. It's never a good idea to openly mock a determined female's foolish ideas.

"She is my daughter." Her voice climbs, growing a bit more shrill.

"That's not confirmed," I say calmly.

Tears prick her eyelashes. "Of course it is Willa. A Wild Luna? Who else would it be?"

I kneel in front of her, taking her hands in mine and rubbing my thumbs over her chilled skin. "You're not recovered yet, Dove. This is a war."

Her mouth sets, and her blue eyes flit away from me. "Sorry," she whispers. "I know you are busy. But... I hate just sitting here while everyone else is out there, risking everything."

I bring her hands up to my mouth, kissing her fingers gently. "You're human, Dove," I try to keep my voice as gentle as possible. Inside, I'm cringing a little at how demeaning I'm being, but it's the truth, and there's no helping that fact.

"I was not always," she whispers. She looks up, tears in her eyes.

I catch my breath.

"That young male, the dark one who thinks my Willa is his mate, who is he?"

My blood chills in my veins. It's not an entirely unexpected question. Snow should naturally be interested in her only child's mate.

"He is our Alphason, Inuit," I tell her slowly.

Snow shakes her head, her mouth setting mutinously as she withdraws her hands from mine. "He is not your son. Not your blood. Is he?"

"No. He isn't." I take a breath, my fingers flexing without hers in mine. "He is Tarkik Adlartok . Nine years ago-"

Snow interrupts my little history lesson with a steeply indrawn breath. What little color she has drains from her face, leaving her shaky and pale. Huge, dark blue eyes stare into mine. She isn't crying, but her pain is palpable.

"His Father was my mate."

The implication of Snow's confession rakes over me. Goddess. Snow and Inuit's Father... Snow was meant to be his luna. How did she end up out there in the wilderness? Without her wolf? It nearly sends me to my knees, the pain my sweet Dove must have suffered. She has no wolf. She was rejected, probably before she could ever shift. It nearly ruined her.

Goddess. Inuit and Willa are a bloodline mating. It explains so much... Their bond... A stronger bond, set by a goddess who is furious that the original mated pair defied her plans.

"Let's go, Dove. Tell me in the truck, yeah?"

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