Page 5 of Never Tamed (Bad Wolves #3)

“None of this is fine,” Mathis interrupts, his eyes hot, his breathing heavy. “Let’s be honest. This is nothing but fucking crap and we’re out here on the run like we’re the criminals.”

Torin scoffs, walks Red inside and lays her gently on the floor. Then, he takes off to find clothes. Thank god because I’m really tired of looking at the blond asshole.

Stress bubbles up and nips at my nerves. This dingy container, Noble hurt, Red dying. Helplessness. Pain.

Whining, I say nothing when Mathis slams his fist into the side of the storage container. A dull ringing echoes back.

“Why should we always be the ones to pay? They’ve taken our omegas, they've run us from our homes, and still it’s not enough.” He growls, his wolf nearer to the surface than he usually allows.

“Keep your shit together, Captain America.” Noble sags against the opposite wall, bringing his knees up to his chest. His tone is light but the meaning inescapable. “You’re losing it.”

As much as I fucking hate to admit it, Noble is right. Mathis is always the sensible one. The optimist with a plan. The man’s got a rigid foundation of the stuff and everything in his life runs smoother because he’s a freak who hates mistakes.

Torin rounds the corner dragging a shirt over his head. “Am I missing some assault and battery?”

Mathis is flushed, grinding his teeth. “How can you be so calm?”

“Do I look calm to you?” Torin adjusts the stolen sweatpants on his hips. “You have no clue.”

The look isn’t good for him. He’s a dude built for suits, not casual. The joke is right there, but one look from Mathis has me swallowing it.

“You own the city. This is your turf now. So what do we do?” Mathis asks.

“These aren’t normal circumstances. Cat got away and there was no sign of Andras at the wedding,” Torin argues with his arms wide at his side.

Mathis bares his teeth. “Yeah, because he’s probably at our camp right now, kidnapping our people and forcing them into whatever kind of messed up shit he’s got planned for us. We’ve left our pack unprotected to save you.”

“I never asked to be saved,” Torin replies with a sneer. “I had it handled.”

Handled is a gross overstatement.

“This is when a simple thanks goes a long way.” Mathis puffs up his chest.

I’m normally all for this macho bullshit but today, we’ve got more important necks to crack.

“Shove your thanks right up your ass. I’ll give you what you want when we’re out of this but not a second before.” Torin growls and the sound lifts my hackles. “Handle yourself , Mathis, and let’s plan.”

I slink closer to the exit. Every part of me wants to cut and run. To feel something real beneath my feet. Noble scoots to snuggle closer to Red, and I’m, what?

Useless.

“I’m sick of planning,” I grunt.

“Planning is the only way we’re going to have a shot in hell of making it out of here,” Noble says with a sigh.

“You’re right, Mathis. The pack is left defenseless.

Without us. The deltas and gammas are there to keep everyone in line but if Andras decides to target them, if he somehow figures out our location—”

He breaks off like he’s spent the last bit of his energy for one final word..

A small cry interrupts the budding argument and my focus centers on Red. She’s curled up into a ball at Noble’s side with her head in his lap.

I crouch in front of her, pressing my palm to her head. Her skin is clammy and burning up at the same time. Sweat plasters her hair to her face. “Red?” I snap my fingers but her eyes remain closed. “She’s not healing fast enough.”

“How long will it take her to heal? At this point, since she’s a werewolf, too, she shouldn’t be having an issue.” Torin shifts from foot to foot, his hands clenching at his sides.

Useless. Just another useless yuppie who thinks he’s an alpha. But I’m not moving any closer. I’m not ripping her out of Noble’s arms to fix her myself.

Because the truth of this shit is, I have no clue what to do. I’m not equipped for this kind of thing. You want violence? I’m your guy.

You want to fuck? I’m definitely your guy.

But this tender shit? The doctoring and the nurturing and the saving?

“Do something,” I bark at Mathis. “Your dad taught you all the first aid, Boy Scout stuff. Right?”

The sound of my voice jerks Mathis out of whatever crap he had swirling in his head. He nods and kneels beside me, nudging me out of the way with his shoulder.

His fingers skim the side of Red’s face down to her neck to check her pulse point. A low keening starts behind us and it takes me a second to realize Torin’s making the sound.

Oh how far the mighty fucking fall .

Mathis tears open Red’s borrowed shirt and the shadows aren’t dark enough to disguise the long, angry looking slice down her side. The wound leaks blood like a steady drip from a faucet.

“I’m going to need something to press against the wound to stop the bleeding. Maybe some kind of comfrey or calendula if there’s anything around.”

“In this wasteland? You’ve got a better chance of finding a needle,” Torin snaps.

“A needle might be our best option to sew the wound shut while she heals. Get the jacket off her so we can see what we’re really working with.”

I fidget nervously, watching Mathis dust off those rusty first aid skills. We have to get out of here. Fast.

The longer we stay in this prison of metal and concrete, the easier it is for me to lose it.

The familiar humming begins in the deep recesses of my mind, turning into strains of the melody, and I stop. A chill races down my spine.

Oh no. Not again.

I need to get out of here. I can’t afford to lose it now.

Shaking, full body, I try to dislodge it before bolting from the storage container.

Mathis, Noble, and Torin have it covered here. They don’t need me around to mess everything the hell up. It’s better for Mathis if I’m not there to make his loss of control worse. Better for Red if she has the space to heal.

Torin scowls at me on my way past, but I ignore them all, taking off to the water. If I have to soak my head until I drown then I'll do it.

I’ll do it.