Page 50 of Never Submit

I wait for him to realize what a fucking prick he’s being. Instead of facing it, facing us, he keeps talking to Catarina like the perfect, loyal fiancé.

He still wants to marry her, and for what? Duty? To prove something to his dead father?

It’s ridiculous.

How can I make him understand?

Typical Torin, though. He’s always been thetoo stubborn for his own goodtype of person. Once he gets something in his head, yanking him off of it is almost impossible.

“Yeah, I’ll handle it. Don’t stress,” Torin says into the phone, his voice confident and reassuring. It’s the same tone he uses when he’s trying to pacify someone. To keep them at arm’s length without letting them feel it. I’ve heard it too many times. “We’ll be married soon enough.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Ren hisses. She presses her palm flat against her lower abdomen.

Torin stiffens but doesn’t turn around, doesn’t acknowledge she’s said anything. He just keeps talking. “I’ll make sure it’s perfect, Catarina. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

That’s it. I can’t stay silent anymore. He’s hurting Ren.

He’s hurting my mate with his dismissiveness, and if he was going to compartmentalize this way, he should never have given in to her. Or my taunts.

“Tor,” I snap, my voice low but sharp enough to cut through his conversation. “What the hell are you doing?”

He glances over his shoulder, his eyes flashing with annoyance.

“I’ll call you back,” he says into the phone.

Then he hangs up and turns to face us, his mask firmly back in place.

“What the hell?” Ren demands, stepping toward him. Her voice is shaking now, anger bleeding into something rawer. “You just—what, forget everything the second she calls? Just slip back into your perfect fiancé act?”

Torin exhales slowly and pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s not that simple, Ms. Wexler.”

“Stop calling me that.” She ballsher hands into fists. “And it sure sounded simple,” she says. “You’re planning a wedding. With her. While you’re here with us. Withme.”

He glares. The ire he needs to turn inward is directed solely at Ren. “I told you from the beginning?—”

“No,” she interrupts, her voice cracking. “You don’t get to hide behind anything. Don’t you dare act like this was nothing. Likewe’renothing.”

The mate bond strains, her emotions reaching a breaking point, and I suck air into my lungs but I’m no help.

I have my own beef with Torin after everything we’ve experienced together and right now it's too hard to forget it.

Ren’s breathing grows more ragged, her hands trembling as she clenches them tighter, her knuckles white. The heat rolling off her is palpable and I recognize what’s happening—my own wolf pushes to the surface, sensing it too.

In her anger, the power of a shift is taking over.

The beast inside of her is too new for her to control yet.

I remember my own changes after puberty hit. They were painful, terrifying, and usually brought on by extreme emotion or the pull of the moon. Both were too much for me to ignore. It took a lot of time to fine tune the art of controlling it with help from my parents and the pack.

Ren is experiencing the same thing now. A wolf who doesn’t understand what she is or know the steps to take to minimize the damage?

A huge threat. She could really hurt herself. Big time.

“Uh, Ren, baby…” I hold my hands out. “You have to relax.”

Her head snaps my way, her eyes wild with dilated pupils. Her hormones are out of control, her system reacting to the turmoil.

I glance at Torin, tilting my head.Do something.

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