Page 8 of Never Tamed (Bad Wolves #3)

He barks out a disgruntled laugh. “It was the only thing they had in the storage container.”

“You’re slumming it with the rest of us now.”

I miss my hoodie. I miss the comfort of it as I settle at his side and my bones creaked in protest.

The stench of bilge water and debris fills my nose along with the fresh tang of salt and decay from the plant life across the river. Oil slicks the surface, glinting with rainbow hues under the last of the moon and star light.

Rust, from the ships. Fuel from their machines used to move all these storage containers.

And underneath it all, the last phantom scent of Torin’s expensive cologne.

“You want to talk.” His voice is deep and rough. “We have a lot to say to each other.”

“We can sit here if you want.” But I won't beg you for anything .

His laughter is much slower to come in my head but it’s more real than anything he’d uttered out loud.

I kick out my feet in the open air and immediately regret it when the motion pulls my still healing side. Torin snaps his head in my direction, his concern filtering through.

“This mate bond is strange stuff, isn’t it?’ I struggle to keep my tone light and conversational. The subject is definitely neither of those things. “Does it take some getting used to it on your end, too? Having Mathis and Noble there?”

“I feel both of them. But I feel you the strongest,” Torin admits. His eyes narrow. “Maybe that’s why I fought against it so hard.”

“Because it’s not something you can control.

Easy, there, you sound almost bitter . The voice in my head is mine.

“You’re not bitter,” Torin answers me out loud and I shiver. He heard me. “You’re right. I can’t control my emotions and I’ve built my empire on control. Emotions have always been a weakness. Giving your power away.”

“Not just because it’s me?” My voice goes small.

He groans and wipes a hand across his hair, pushing it away from his face. He looks younger this way. Younger than I’ve ever seen him look. Or maybe it’s the vulnerability in his eyes or the way his mouth relaxes when it isn’t twisted in his usual sneer.

He still won’t look at me and I find myself aching for eye contact. Like I need it so I know he actually sees me.

“I’m sorry, Ren. I’m so sorry I fought against the mate bond this hard and it cost you everything.”

I feel his sincerity through the bond and my world tips on its axis.

“You called me by my name,” I blurt.

I’ve always been Ms. Wexler to him. For some reason, that rocks me the hardest. My heart clutches in my chest and my fingers dig into the side of the dock.

“It was a way to distance us,” he clarifies, his gaze on something across the water. “Because I needed the distance. I’ve been in my head for so long… it almost cost you your life. I’m sorry.”

Torin reaches out to me and stops, flexing his fingers. His hand drops down to his side.

“I’m not used to hearing you apologize.” Or hearing him be kind.

He engaged with the rest of the world through a wall of steel, living up to his name. It’s strange to hear him be this emotional and I’m not sure I like it. Or maybe I like it too much.

Maybe I really like the way his fingers keep flexing like he’s trying to stop himself from touching me, even though I want him to.

I want to be touched.

I want him to grovel.

Torin huffs out another ragged groan and turns away from me, his profile unyielding. “There's no way for me to make this up to you.”

“I suppose you can break the bond. If you want.”

His horror is sharp and immediate. “I’m not going to break the bond,” he replies. “I’m done fighting it. But you’re angry with me. You have every right to be angry.”

I am? Yeah, I guess I am. There underneath the emotions is another layer,one that burns my insides. Fury at him, for putting us through this. For all this needless torment and suffering that might have been avoided if he’d let go of a bit of control.

“You were going to marry her,” I snap. “You were going to throw away your own happiness and chain yourself to a person like that.”

“Yes. I was.” There is no excuse in his tone.

“Even though she never cared about you. She never loved you. She was using you.”

He bobs his head along with every word despite the way they land like little hammer blows. He tamps down a wince but I’m staring at him closely enough to see it anyway. “All those things. Because I thought I was doing what was right for my pack, to protect them.”

He finally looks at me and I catch a glimpse of the old Torin on his face, the one who does not bend or break and expects everyone to play by his rules.

It’s strange to watch him try to erase it, to see the slight flickering of horror at his tone before he shoves it all aside, and breaks eye contact again.

Stranger yet to feel him in my head. I’m not used to Torin being hesitant. He’s always the one who knows exactly what he’s doing and has a thousand reasons to justify each behavior or action.

“I’ll understand if you never forgive me,” he says haltingly. “I’ve been horrible to you and I meant it. That’s not something you can come back from. I made you crawl to me.”

It’s my turn to nod. “You did.”

“I treated you like you were worth nothing.” He blows out a breath. “But you’re everything to me. You almost died because of me.”

He’s torn up about this. I need him to be because he’s right on all those counts. My fury isn’t going away anytime soon, either, no matter how much I care about him and no matter how badly I want him to touch me.

Torin keeps his distance like the space between us is absolutely necessary.

“I can live with it, as long as you live.” His knuckles go white. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure no one hurts you again.”

“Torin—”

“I’ll personally tear Catarina limb from limb for what she did,” he interrupts.

His fingers curl further until bone and tendon press against his skin.

I hadn’t realized he’d reached out again.

I’d been too focused on his eyes, on the play of light and guilt in those depths.

His wolf is close to the surface like it’s eager for retribution because of what happened to its mate. My own wolf cries out for blood.

The air quality changes and a sharp gull cry breaks through the tense silence.

There are a thousand things for me to say and none of them are appropriate.

The confusing swirl in my head doesn’t just belong to me, either.

Part of it is Torin's confusion and his emotions. They’re deep, a whirlpool, pulling me down into the depths where I know I’ll never surface again. I’ll drown in his emotions with him.

I sigh and lean back on my elbows as the sky lightens from watery grey to peach. I force myself to stay still at the first brush of Torin’s hand against my pinky finger.

He reaches out, and I let him, the two of us watching the sunrise together, and I hope it won’t be our last.