Page 9 of Never Tamed (Bad Wolves #3)

Mathis

T he crunch of gravel under heavy boots guts the silence. My head snaps up when shouting follows, then the shriek of engines coughing to life.

The sharp scent of gasoline streaks the air, stinging the inside of my nose.

The port is up and running for the day and the dock workers have arrived.

I tense, every muscle wound tight. The container yard is waking up outside our temporary metal shelter, and the fragile hush we’ve clung to all night shatters.

Dax pauses and growls, baring his teeth. “Shit.” He breathes out the curse where he crouches near the door. He angles his head to peer through the thin slat of warped steel, breath fogging in the cold. “We’ve got company.”

Noble’s already on his feet, grimacing as his joints pop and protest. “How many?”

“Half a dozen, maybe more,” Dax mutters, pulling back from the slit. He cracks his knuckles, rolls his shoulders like he’s already gearing up for a fight. “More are definitely coming. Should be easy.”

Ren and Torin slip through the doorway and she pauses, out of breath, one hand braced against the wall and a groan clanging through her. Moving too fast, I’d say. “Should be easy? For what?”

“To pick off,” Dax says, flashing a grin that’s all teeth, all animal.

Her spine stiffens. “You can’t kill them. They’re just—people. Innocent. They don’t know what’s going on.”

Fuck, I barely know what’s going on. I only know we’ve run out of time in our sanctuary and it’s time to get the hell out of here.

Dax opens his mouth—probably to argue with whatever twisted logic is rattling in his skull—but I cut in before he can dig a hole any deeper.

I lift a hand. “No hunting this morning, Dax. We sneak out without drawing attention. No bodies. No blood.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Mathis is right,” Torin interjects, brushing dirt from his sweatpants. “Any commotion and Andras will know exactly where we are. We have to keep a low profile.”

Ren snorts softly. “Wow. You two agreeing? Hell has frozen over. As if I had any doubts.”

Dax mutters something too low to catch and the tension in his shoulders eases. A little. Enough.

“We have to get out of here,” Noble says, voice taut. “Now.”

Across from me, he shifts with a pained breath, bracing himself on the corrugated wall to push upright. He swallows a grimace but I catch it, that flicker of agony, the way his recently healed leg wobbles slightly before locking.

It’s progress. Just too slow. We’re all wrecked and barely standing and we shouldn’t be moving out this soon.

Is there a choice?

I swallow hard, my throat dry. Unfamiliar anxiety bites at my insides until I want to howl and lash out with it.

Is this how Dax feels constantly? Struggling to keep a tight leash on himself? I fucking hate it.

Ren steps toward Noble and he waves away her offer of help. She bites her lower lip. “You can barely stand. How the hell are we going to make it all the way back to the pack?”

“We don’t have to walk,” he mutters. He jerks his nose in my direction. “We have technology. I can call us a cab.”

There are still cabs, right?

“Why can’t we call a chauffeur service? Something more… clean .” Torin gestures toward his lower half.

Looks like with some things, Torin will never change. He seems like he’d rather die than put on the sweatpants.

What a priss.

“I don’t like cars…” Dax grumbles, his arms crossed over his chest. “Too confining.”

“Oh, we know, Evil Knievel,” Noble says with a chuckle.

“What you call me?”

Noble ignores him and turns to Torin again.

“If Andras had access to our security system, then my guess is that they would have all our contacts too. Including any car services we’ve used before.

It’s best if we stay under his radar and ghost this place before the workers start poking around.

They’re sure to have a fit if they see us. ”

“And go where?” Dax asks, brows drawn low. “Hmm? You think about that?”

“Anywhere. Guam, maybe. Warm beaches. Sunshine. Umbrella drinks.”

Torin stares at him flatly. “You want a margarita while we’re being hunted?”

“Okay, okay, so much for humor.” Noble stares at me until I retrieve the cell and hold it out to him. “Maybe not Guam. But a vacation does sound great right about now.”

“As lovely as it sounds,” Ren says, folding her arms, “we can’t just run. Running isn’t an option. I’m sure you already…” she pauses. “You did. You talked about it when I was unconscious.”

Her voice holds a definite fuck you to the four of us.

“If we vanish, there will be no protection for our packs. Andras will take them out. Our families. Our people. Running’s not an option,” I reiterate. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’re not really running. Noble’s sense of comedic timing is just shit.”

Noble sighs, defeated, and starts dialing the second I toss him the cell.

“Relax, guys. It was a joke.” He turns his back and mutters something low to the voice on the other end.

When he finally hangs up, his gaze sweeps over all of us.

“Okay, cab is on its way. We have five minutes to try and look like a bunch of normal, everyday people. Should be fun.”

With each passing second, the sounds outside grow louder—more voices, more engines, more commotion. Somewhere nearby, a forklift lets out a screeching whine and metal groans as it hauls a container across the yard.

Dax keeps pacing like a caged animal with his gaze darting to the warped door. Torin drums his fingers against his thigh and leans into the wall. The rhythm speeds up with every clang from outside.

I cling to the phone like a lifeline while Noble sits spread-legged on the floor, Ren leaning into his chest with her eyes closed.

My skin is too tight and anxiety makes my insides jumpy. Every second away from my pack has them in danger. I shouldn’t have left them undefended.

Everything that happened, had to happen, but that doesn’t make it easier to handle. Mentally, I’m drowning. Maybe I’d have better luck with clarity if I took a dip in that disgusting water the way Dax did.

Or maybe then I’d end up nervous and soaking wet.

“Did they say how long?” I ask quietly.

Noble doesn’t look up. “Ten minutes. They’re supposed to pull around the side gate, near the access road.”

“Assuming they don’t get spooked by the security guards,” Dax mutters.

“It’s been longer than ten minutes,” Torin adds. “At least fifteen. A service would’ve never—”

Then, a low, short beep from a vehicle horn hit my ears. The others hear it too because every head whips to the narrow slat in the door. Even Ren sits up.

“That’s them,” Noble says

Both Torin and Ren go to help him stand, despite his protests.

“I’ve got it.” He snaps out the reprimand.

My attention narrows on Torin’s hand and the brief way he presses it to the small of Ren’s back before withdrawing it, like he’s too scared to actually touch her.

Without waiting a second longer, Dax yanks the metal door open just enough for us to slip through. He pokes his head out, sniffs the air, and then glances over his shoulder.

“Clear,” he says. “Follow me.”

I reach for Ren and nudge her forward. “You first, sweetheart.”

Nodding, she hurries to Dax’s side. He wraps an arm around her and together they step out. I know he’ll do whatever he must to protect her. Even ignore my “no killing the workers” rule.

Torin and Noble are out of the container next. I take the rear, making sure we’re still out of eyeshot of any passing workers.

The scents of icy salt air and ripe gasoline smack me in the face. We move fast, low. Luckily, our footsteps across the gravel are masked by the commotion from the shipyard.

The cab’s idling by the chain-link fence, a faded yellow van with a dented front bumper and flickering headlight. When the driver rolls down his window, he looks us over and his thick brows crinkle. It’s clear he’s regretting accepting this fare.

“You Noble?” The driver stares at me.

“Thanks for coming,” the real Noble answers.

Torin snorts, looking over our ride. “You got to be kidding me.”

I reach the door first and pull it open, and Dax shoves Torin inside. “If I have to sit in this metal death trap, so do you.”

Torin growls a warning. “Check your beta, Mathis.”

“Don’t start,” Ren chastises and slides in next.

Noble is about to get in next but I stop him.

“You sure you don’t want the front seat? There’s more space to stretch out your leg.”

I’ve had broken bones before and I know how awful they are to deal with. The bone might knit together but the ache stays for a few days afterward, like every pulsing second where the marrow reforms is a painful reminder of the wound.

He smiles. “I appreciate that. But I’m fine here.”

It’s a beta thing—I get it.

Even wounded, he wants to keep his place by his alpha and his mate. Dax swings around to the back and pulls open the trunk. Without a second thought, he throws himself in and pulls it shut from the inside. When the driver turns to protest, Dax meets his eye until the man flinches.

No one in their right mind would go head to head with Dax.

I open the passenger side and sit. My head hits the ceiling, and I have to slide down the seat to fit. The cab smells musty, like sweat with a hint of spice. The spice from whatever the driver ate for dinner the day before that stuck to the fabric seats, if I were to guess.

The man stares, mouth open.

“Are we good?” I ask him.

He swallows, then nods once. “Where to?”

“Just get us out of here for now. We’ll let you know after that.”

As the van rolls forward, gravel kicks up behind us, but no one comes running for us. No one seems to notice us at all.

Good. One less thing to worry about. I lift my gaze to the sky, the peach and orange and golden sunrise, and send up a thanks to the Moon Goddess.

Something definitely had a hand in getting us free.

Now we’ve got to figure out a route to camp and our packs. Without the Blood Moons following.

Awkward silence fills the car and the air around us crackles with tension. To prevent any further awkwardness, our beefy armed driver turns on the radio and classic rock comes to life.

He changes the channel with a grunt, pressing buttons on the console until he lands on a news station.

“…In breaking news this morning, police have confirmed the discovery of two unidentified female bodies found in a storm drain off the lower Eastside sewer system. One of the victims is believed to have been pregnant…”

The words hit me like a freight train. My throat closes.

Pregnant.

Storm drain.

Bodies.

Bile scalds my throat and my stomach shrinks, my skin tightening with queasy heat.

No… it couldn’t be. Could it?

I twist toward the radio and strain to hear the words.

“Investigators are withholding details pending family notifications. No suspects at this time.”

Noble notices my face and goes still. “Mathis? You okay?”

My hands shake and I can’t breathe. Even though my head is screaming that these people could be anyone, the sinking in my gut is telling me the grizzly truth.

Flora .

My pack. The ones they took. The ones I couldn’t save.

“Sick shit, isn’t it?” the driver asks, glancing at me and then quickly away. “What’s this city coming to, anyway?”

Did Andras slaughter the women in a fit of rage when we got away? Is this a message?

“Mat—you don’t think…” Dax whispers from the back.

I glance at the rearview mirror and catch Ren’s eyes. They’re swimming with tears. She’s thinking the same thing we are.

“Just a damn shame…” the driver says in an absentminded tone.

“That’s four women already this month found in the sewers.

Poor things. I wonder if it’s a serial killer wandering around out there.

” He glances at Ren through the mirror too.

“You should be careful out there, miss. Good thing you’ve got your friends here. ”

I bite down on the inside of my cheek until it shreds. I let this happen. Whatever Andras did to my women, and my gut tells me they belonged to me, the responsibility is on my shoulders. The families impacted, their husbands or parents or siblings or children... I have to take responsibility.

“We won’t let anything happen to her,” Torin says sharply.

“Not a chance,” Noble adds with a glower.

I also want to assure Ren, but the words are stuck in my throat. How can I protect my mate when I can’t even save the women, the most vulnerable, in my pack? It’s a promise I can’t make because it’s one I can’t keep.

As an alpha and as a friend, I’ve failed.

My father would be so fucking ashamed of me. The thought immediately drops my shrunken gut even lower, and I swallow hard to keep the bile where it belongs. Sweat breaks out along my skin.

“Where would you like me to drop you all off?” the driver asks as he slows to stop at an intersection. “A bar? Casino? Hotel?”

“The edge of the city.” The words burst from my constricted throat without warning.

Despite every ounce of sorrow and guilt inside me, fury surges forward, meeting it toe-for-toe.

Grief, anger, remorse—it collides inside me like a torrent.

I want to rip Andras to shreds with my bare hands.

It takes all my control not to leap out of the car, rip off one of the manhole covers, and dive in.

Suddenly, the car is too small to contain me, and my skin prickles with the rise of my wolf.

“Mathis…” My name is a warning on Ren’s lips.

The driver glances at me, worried. “Are you sure? I don’t mind—”

I can’t control the growl rumbling in my chest and up my throat. Or the way the car lurches forward before the light changes back to green and the man whimpers in fear.

“Where the city ends and the forest begins,” I snarl. “We’ll take it from there.”