Page 155 of Untamed

I gasp in sheer agony as the forest sends a screaming cry for help down my limbs. My muscles seize, then fall numb, my fingers are suddenly clumsy. I fall.

Mactiir catches me with ease, abandoning the heads at his feet. He is already crooning sympathetically as he pulls me close to his chest.

"The fire, Mactiir," I gasp out, desperate to make him understand. I curl my weak fingers in the pelt on his chest, finding my strength in his physical power.

The wind is fickle. Blowing the yarch tree onto Hollow Moon, it now fans the forest fire in the north.

War is abandoned. I suppose it is over. Or, perhaps, it was over as soon as my terrifying Ogre began to rip through his enemies.

The Ogre fades back to my Mactiir. Warm, gooey, walnut-pie eyes watch me. I press my palm to his cheek, and he kisses my flesh there softly. His lips cool the flames burning my flesh. The fire is devouring my forest, and I know. I know. I know...

The pack's adrenaline picks up again, wolves racing towards the lumbering vehicles in the distance. My Hunter-cousin begins to bark orders, conferring with Mactiir about who will stay here and who will return home.

It is all just buzzing in my ears like a swarm of bees.

"My Bliss? What's wrong,Qitsuk?"

"The Lake" is all I can whisper through the screaming ache in my throat.

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Inuit

I toss Blout into the bed of the pickup without any care as he slams into the metal sides. He's so weak he can barely groan in pain anymore. I ignore his obvious distress and slam the gate shut with a clang. That's the extent of the attention I can pay to him, the male who hurt so many wolves.

When I take Qitsuk back into my arms, she shivers, her body clinging to mine like lichen on a tree. I won't lie; I love how she clutches me so close. My tough little female, so independent, needs my strength.

Her eyes are fixed to the north. My monster whimpers, nudging her little golden she-wolf gently, insistently. He doesn't like her hurting. I don't want her hurting. He's a fucking monster, but we agree on that, no contest.

Behind the train of vehicles, BlueSnout are being herded. It's a little scary how quickly RustClaw adapted to the rhythm of taking over a pack. Orderly lines of BlueSnout prisoners are tied together, with the warriors separated from each other and isolated from their families.

I let my gaze roam my wolves, making sure no one's being too roughly handled. The warriors are all wounded. Those with severe wounds are riding in the trucks. The youngest children are gathered in with them. All the healthy BlueSnout are walking.

It's harsh, but I see nothing but resignation in their eyes. Blout, like my uncle, dampened the souls of all of these wolves. Their fight is gone while RustClaw stands, resolute. Lyri and my brothers cleared the deadwood from our pack years ago.

They cleared this path for me.

"Home," I order my wolves. Some of the BlueSnout cringe away from the sound of my voice. As I walk the line with my mate cradled in my arms, I can scent urine from wolves that have pissed themselves in fear.

"Mactiir, the Lake," my mate murmurs into my neck.

"Shh, home first," I tell her softly. "We can't take everyone to Mauja, Bliss."

She squirms against me, making herself comfortable, I think. Picking her head up, she kisses the side of my face. "Mama needs to come to the Lake with us," she says softly.

I turn my head and capture her lips in a too-brief kiss. "Alright,Qitsuk. Just rest now, my love."

"I'm going to be an uncle soon, yeah?" Orion groans exaggeratingly as he strolls along next to us. "You gonna carry her all the way back to RustClaw?"

I grunt. There's no room in the trucks. Everyone who can is walking or running next to the convoy. Besides, the last time I let her out of my arms, my brother tried to Mark her.

Orion speeds off, laughing and shaking his head as he shifts into his dull blonde wolf.

"His wolf looks like mine," Qitsuk murmurs, watching him disappear into the trees.

I grunt in disagreement but don't argue. My mate is exquisitely gorgeous, golden, and beautiful. Orion just looks like someone pissed on his fur then rolled him in the dirt.

It takes hours to travel west, back to RustClaw. My monster looks over his territory, the bastard already accepting that all he sees is his.

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