Page 32 of Never Submit

The connection is everything I need.

The warmth of her skin seeps into me to chase away the chill of the mountain air. It’s faint, but it’s there, and I hold onto that small reassurance as I start toward the forest line.

My boots crunch over the frosted ground, the weight of her slight in my arms but grounding.

Her steady rhythm of breathing is a reassurance, no matter how deeply her condition slices at me.

It never should have happened.

What the hell is going on in Dax’s head?

The tension radiating off him is impossible to miss. His silence feels unnatural, dangerous, but as long as he stays behind me and keeps his distance, I’ll tolerate it. For now.

The uneven path, slick with patches of frost, slopes down toward the road and I take it too fast. Ren’s fingers curl tighter into the fabric of my jacket as she stirs.

“Noble,” she murmurs.

“I’m here,” I say, keeping my tone low, steady.

Sending every bit of reassurance and comfort I don’t feel down the mate bond toward her.

Her lips part to say more, but then she closes her eyes, her breathing evening out again. I glance down at her bruised and pale face and tighten my hold on her.

I’ll get her through this. I’ll get her home, safe and warm, where she belongs. And if Dax or anyone else thinks they can come between us, they’ll have to go through me first.

“Where were you?” I ask softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

Her brow furrows like she’s trying to piece it all together. “He had me,” she whispers. “Andras. He locked me in a cage.”

That fucking prick is going to die an agonizing death. I swear. “Do you know where?”

Her voice shakes as she answers. “Deep in the mountain. In a cave.” She swallows hard. “I thought I was going to die.”

Dax is suddenly at my side, and his usual cockiness is replaced with something sharper, more serious. The hunter, ready to hunt. “A cave? Where?”

“Does it matter now?” I snap, my arm tightening protectively around Ren.

“It matters if Andras is still there,” Dax says.

Ren’s grip on me loosens slightly, and she looks between the two of us, torn. “It’s not far,” she says finally. “I can show you.”

“No,” I say firmly, shaking my head. “You’re not going back there.”

“It’s near the top of the mountain. It’s a man-made cave they’ve dug out and hidden. I’m not sure where exactly…”

Dax nods before turning back to me. “I’ll go. You stay here with her.”

“Like that’s up for debate?” I ask.

The idea of him running off while I deal with the aftermath rankles me, but Ren needs memore right now. And the thought of Dax near her again—even if it’s to help—isn’t one I’m willing to entertain.

“I’ll take care of her,” I say, my tone leaving no room for argument. “You find the hideout, but don’t do anything stupid.”

“Like kill Andras with my own bare hands?” He puffs out his chest. “I know what I’m doing. I’ll follow the trail.”

“Like something that could getyoukilled,” Ren says.

The worry in her voice confuses me. Does she…actually care about Dax? It seems so. Maybe even more than in a physical way. I just can’t understand why.

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