Page 33 of Never Submit (Bad Wolves #2)

Chapter 33

Torin

I stand in front of the mirror, adjusting the diamond cufflinks on my tux. The black fabric feels suffocating, like it’s trying to push the air from my lungs. The reflection staring back at me is a man I barely recognize—a leader, a diplomat, a soon-to-be husband, an alpha.

I look like a younger version of Sullivan, and I hate it. Even the scowl etched into my face reminds me of him. It disgusts me.

How can I have worked so hard to impress a man I don’t respect? Why haven’t I been able to break the habit?

The room is too quiet. I run a hand through my hair, fighting the urge to growl. Staying with Catarina last night was an exercise in restraint, not because of desire but because of the utter lack of it. She wouldn’t even stay in the same room as me, and I still struggled with the urge to get away.

To fucking run as far and as fast away from this iron-hearted woman as possible.

The truth is Catarina could’ve disappeared for the night, off to do anything or anyone, and I wouldn’t have felt anything but relief.

And this is the woman I’m about to marry. The one I’ve chosen—or rather, the one duty has chosen for me. Is it smarter to stay or to go?

Which one will I blame myself less for?

I take a deep breath, trying to still the restless energy coursing through me. My wolf is agitated and pacing inside me like a caged animal. He doesn’t want this; it’s made painfully clear who he wants.

But it doesn’t matter. I can’t let it matter.

I think of my parents, of the calculated union that defined their marriage, and how my mother was nothing more than an accessory for my father, according to the nannies who raised me. She was a quiet shadow who fulfilled her duties without question. They rarely even occupied the same room unless it was for appearances.

And as soon as she birthed me, she died.

As a child, I’d told myself I’d never let that happen to me. That I’d find something more—someone more. A bond built on love, not obligation.

And yet here I am.

I chuckle bitterly under my breath and my reflection in the mirror sneers at me. Life has a way of twisting the knife.

The door opens, and one of Catarina’s bridesmaids steps inside, her head bowed respectfully. “Mr. Steel, the ceremony will begin in twenty minutes.”

I nod, dismissing her with a wave of my hand. She leaves quickly and the door clicks shut behind her.

Twenty minutes. That’s all the time I have left to convince myself that this is the right decision. That marrying Catarina will bring our packs together, will make us stronger against Andras, will save lives .

Then no more Ren. Never again.

Even though I felt the mating bond, felt it hovering right there within reach, I had to reject it. Not only because of this but because of Noble too. I can’t hurt my beta like that.

Even if he is willing to share her with me, there’s a power dynamic in place that our wolves adhere to. Fucking her may have been a moment of fun when it happened, but at the end of the day, Ren’s his mate. Not mine.

Which is part of the reason why I haven’t allowed myself to think about her since I left the cabin office, not fully. But she’s there regardless, lingering in the back of my mind like a shadow I can’t shake. I remember the fire in her eyes as she stared up at me with my cock in her mouth. I feel the warmth of her skin beneath my hands.

I clench my fists, the memory of her threatening to take over me again.

No . I can’t think about her. I can’t let myself want her.

This isn’t about what I want. It’s about what I need to do.

Straightening my tie, I force myself to focus. Catarina and I might not have love, but we’ll have strength. Unity. Purpose. In this world, that’s what matters.

If that means sacrificing a piece of my soul, so be it.

My wolf growls low, a rumble of defiance that echoes in my chest. He doesn’t agree, and he never will.

This isn’t his decision. It’s mine.

With one last deep breath, I walk out of my dressing room and stride into the main part of the church. The scene before me feels surreal—white flowers arranged in towering displays, delicate white ribbons draped across the pews, candles flickering with soft, golden light.

It’s pristine, soft, elegant, but sterile. Perfect in the way only Catarina would demand .

The bridesmaids are dressed in sleek black gowns, a stark contrast to the purity of the rest of the décor. The groomsmen from Catarina’s pack are clustered near the altar in their matching tuxedos looking like they’ve stepped out of a magazine.

It looks damn near perfect—something I would have loved once upon a time, before meeting Ren.

The worst of it is that I don’t recognize any of the people filling the pews. Not one familiar face.

The realization hits me harder than I expect. My pack isn’t here. Of course they’re not—they’re holed up in the camp, hiding from Andras, licking their wounds. Still, I’d hoped for something. For someone . Noble, at least.

But he’s not here, either. Did I push my beta so irrevocably he decided not to show up?

It’s better this way. He might have tried to convince me not to go through with it.

He doesn’t understand.

I shove the thought aside and walk up the aisle, my footsteps echoing on the marble floor. The weight of the surroundings bears down on me. The chatter of the crowd dims as I pass, a sea of strangers turning their heads to watch me. Their eyes are polite, their smiles practiced, yet none of them know me.

None of them understand what this wedding really is.

At the front of the church, I take my place before the altar and feel the groomsmen shifting uncomfortably at my arrival. I keep my face expressionless. My shoulders are thrown back and my head high. I suddenly feel like I’m walking into a grave. Pre-dug. No one else can see it. I did it to myself.

I force myself to stand still, to focus on the ceremony ahead. Catarina will walk down that aisle any minute now, radiant in her dress, no doubt—the perfect image of a bride.

I should feel something.

A hollow ache twists in my chest, and I push it down. This is what’s best for the pack. What’s best for all of us.

I tell myself that over and over again as I wait for Catarina to appear at the other end of the aisle and seal my fate for better or for worse.

Ren

The church looms ahead, pristine and immaculate and picture-perfect, its white stone exterior glowing in the setting sun like some kind of holy beacon.

I hate it. The sight of it makes my stomach churn.

The nauseatingly perfect decorations start in the courtyard—white roses spilling over every surface, delicate ribbons trailing from pillars, and an archway so overdone it looks like it belongs on a wedding cake. Leading the guests into the bowels of the church and the sham waiting for them there.

It’s lush, expensive, and absolutely sickening.

The wolf in me wants to destroy it all and trample those white roses until the dirt gives them color.

Did we make it in time? My heart clutches, worming its way up to block my throat.

A wedding that’s nothing but a facade. Even knowing that Torin and Catarina’s engagement was based on a larger plot by Andras, it still hurts. This marriage is a cage Torin is willingly stepping into.

After everything we’ve been through.

I felt the mate bond when he fucked me from behind in his cabin, and I know he did, too. Yet he still wants to pretend he feels nothing at all.

Normal rejection I can take, but this… This hurts more because he’s doing it with direct purpose. Not to mention he’s hurting himself, too.

I think that’s the worst part. He’s willingly hurting himself for his people, putting his head on the chopping block, thinking he’s doing something good.

We crouch hidden in the cover of the trees across the church’s parking lot. Dax has already gone ahead to search for any hidden threats, leaving me and Mathis behind. My only hope is that Noble was able to get to Torin and warn him about the danger waiting for him.

But we gave up waiting as the clock ticked closer to noon.

Noble told us the ceremony would start at one, and when he didn’t come back…

Patience has never been my thing in the first place, and when the people I love are in trouble, I throw myself into action. I’ve always been that way. Luckily, my mate indulges me.

I glance at Mathis to my right, his broad shoulders tense, his dark eyes scanning the area for threats. His presence grounds me even though I feel the storm of emotions swirling through the mate bond. Despite everything, he maintains a calm exterior.

“You’re sure this is the right place?” I whisper to him.

Mathis gives a small nod. “It’s the address Noble gave us.”

The parking lot is full of vehicles but empty of people, but the scent of wolves drifts on the breeze. Catarina’s pack must be inside already.

I hope we’re not too late .

“About fifty wolves inside,” Dax says, suddenly beside us. He crouches low. “The place is decked out for a show like the extravagant events humans do. And it’s about to start from the looks of it. Torin’s at the altar right on time.”

My stomach heaves. Oh, god, I’m going to throw up.

“Did you see Noble?” Mathis asks, because at the moment I can’t speak.

“I didn’t see him, no, but I couldn’t get too close without someone getting a whiff of me,” Dax replies.

I reach out for Noble through the bond to see what’s going on and pull up short. Surprise mingles with growing horror because there’s nothing but a stark emptiness there.

Everything inside me goes cold. “I-I’m not sure what’s happening.” I send my energy spearing down the bond further but there’s nothing there. The warmth of Noble in my head and heart is a noticeable absence.

“You don’t feel him,” Mathis says, as if reading my thoughts. “Neither can I.”

I didn’t know the guys would be able to feel each other through the mate bond, too, but I guess it makes sense. We’re all connected in a way.

But if the link to Noble is dark for both of us, that definitely isn’t a good sign. Please don’t be dead .

Shit, what am I going to do if he’s dead? Did Torin?—

I strike the thought before it finishes. Torin would never hurt his beta. Ever.

Dax straightens, on alert. “Do you think something happened?” he grinds out.

“I don’t know, but it’s possible. One of Andras’s wolves may have grabbed him before he reached the church.” My teeth start to chatter and I clamp down to stop the violent reaction.

“It’s just strange to me that none of the Blood Moons are lingering around, to try something right after the ceremony,” Dax says.

“Do you think the Briar pack knows about Catarina’s betrayal?” Mathis asks.

Dax shrugs. “If they have been working for Andras the entire time, then yes. Or she can be working alone. Somehow I doubt it.”

“She’s a fucking snake,” I spit, the fury raging through me, even more powerful with the lack of Noble’s energy.

If I ever see her again, I’ll claw her fucking face to shreds.

Dax paces near the tree line, his fists clenching and unclenching like he’s barely keeping himself together. There’s a wildness in his eyes, his wolf close to the surface, and my own creature surges to mimic him.

Mathis sighs, his voice heavy. “We have to get Torin out of there, but if this turns into a fight, we may not make it out alive. We have to be prepared.”

“Fifty to three doesn’t sound like good odds to me,” I say shakily.

“Speak for yourself, Red,” Dax replies.

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to focus. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“We have to figure out how we’re going to get Torin—and possibly Noble—out without causing a stir,” Mathis says. Clinically, confidently. I unconsciously lean closer to him and the alpha command in his words.

“Yeah,” Dax huffs, “easy.”

My heart stutters when I spot a figure coming out the church’s front doors, and I jerk in that direction.

It’s a man in a sharp black suit meant to blend in with the other wedding guests. But it’s his face that catches my attention—there’s a grotesque scar where his left eye should be.

I freeze, my pulse pounding in my ears.

“It’s him,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “The one who took Flora.” I’d seen her claw out his eye during the struggle.

Not that I need the scar to recognize him. Everything inside of me pays attention to the familiar lines of the man’s body. The way he carries himself. I’d gotten an up close and personal look at him that night.

It’s the same guy.

Mathis stiffens beside me, his wolf bristling, but he doesn’t make a move. Not yet.

“Shit,” Dax mutters, finally snapping out of his pacing to step closer. “This is worse than we thought.”

The man’s remaining eye glances our way, and we duck behind the shadows and brush.

A chill runs down my spine and tangles with the overpowering desire for revenge.

“We need to find a way inside,” Mathis whispers in a tight voice. “Dax.”

“Follow me,” he growls before sneaking off to the right, deeper into the forest, toward the back of the church.

I force myself to follow him and Mathis, even as my instincts scream for me to run, force myself inside, and get Torin to listen to me.

We need to stop the wedding and we’re running out of time.