Page 111 of Untamed

And I left her to burn.

"I'm sorry," I whisper to her. "I thought you died, Mama. The fire was burning in the cabin. I thought you were gone."

"Shh, little luna," the male behind Mama rumbles soothingly. He is holding Mama, much the same way Mactiir is holding me. "I had already pulled her from the flames, little one. There was nothing left in the cabin. Did you shift for the first time that day, little one?"

"How do you know that?" I ask him faintly. My ears are buzzing. My she-wolf whimpers for her mother. My arms twitch with the desire to hold my Mama, but at the same time, I'm terrified that this is some cruel trick. Amirage; illusion, apparition, delusion.

"I could scent your youth and the blood of a first shift, little one. You only bleed the first time," he responds. "I looked for you. You leaped into the river." His tone shifts, almost accusatory. "She is newly shifted, Inuit. A pup."

I feel Mactiir's arms tighten a bit. "She is Marked and Mated. Fully Claimed as mine."

Dark blue eyes narrow on my male. "I can see. And smell." Disapproval flashes over his face but changes to acceptance quickly. "Let her go, Inuit. Her Mama needs her."

Arms loosen but don't release me. I'm grateful. I'm not sure I can move yet, anyway.

"Willa," Mama whispers. Her whole body is shaking. I frown, taking a small step from the cage of Mactiir's arms. Mama is not as strong as I am.

"Mama." I find my feet and stumble. Mactiir moves with me, at first. The heat at my back disappears when I am within arm's length of Mama. I reach out, and the older male lets her go then takes a step back. She totters, but I catch her.Mama.

We are quiet as we cry. "I'm sorry, Mama."

"Shh, sweetpea. None of this is your fault. None of it."

The softness of her is so achingly familiar. The slightly cooler skin, the callouses on her hands wiping away the tears that are streaming down my face. It's my Mama. She's here, alive andhere. It all thrusts me right back into the nightmare of losing her.

I shift as my vision grows a bit dark. My she-wolf knows this embrace even if Mama never held us on paws before. Her scent has changed, a subtle shift of strong male on her skin. Light, not soaking through like Mactiir's scent on me, but still present enough that it confuses both me and my she-wolf. It scents of battle. Of the world rending into pieces.

"You're such a beautiful wolf, sweetpea," Mama croons, petting me, scratching my ears as she sits down next to me. Whining, I shove my snout into her shoulder. My vision goes dark, then clears to spots dancing in front of me. The stench of war grows. I can hear a low growl under the sound of Mama's voice.

"Easy, Inuit. She's doing just fine. There are some things I need to tell you, In. It's not easy. Fuck, it's worse than not easy."

I hear their voices. Mama and I listen as we curl up together. Someone brings a blanket, gentle hands tucking us in. I sniff in the wolf's direction. Pup. Safe, then. He smells normal, like a pup who is on the verge of finding his wolf and his vanilla lotion.

I don't understand the words from the older male. I hear the word 'mate.' Mate, luna, rejected. They all swim together. It's just so frustrating not to understand.

It gives me the strength to shift back. "Mama, did you eat from his hand?" I whisper.

She smiles sadly. "I did," she confirms. I nod, understanding that now Mama is tied to this older male who stinks.

"He smells of conflict, Mama."

"Of what, sweetpea?"

"Of a fight between the moon, the sky, the earth. He is not yours, entirely. The moon has her claws in him."

"He is not an easy male," Mama agrees simply.

There is silence behind us. A looming dread.

"She is mine. I... it doesn't change anything. My Pa..." Mactiir chokes softly. "I won'tevergive her up."

"No one is asking you to, In. That's not something that anyone would ever expect. Not from a TrueBorn with a Wild Luna. Not from you."

I feel Mactiir shake with anger. I turn, worried that he is turning into his Ogre. Fists clench, hair sprouts over his knuckles, along his cheeks. "She won't leave me," he tells the older male.

"That's your worry?" the older male sighs in acknowledgment. "Regardless, she has to be told, Inuit."

Told what?

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