Page 31 of Never Submit

“Move, asshole. I’m talking to her.”

He puffs out his chest. “Red’s weak. We need to get her to the bottom of the mountain, away from here.”

You weren’t concerned for her well-being when you were fucking her before I showed up, were you?

“I know,” I snap.

“Then these questions can wait.”

As much as I know he’s right, I don’t want to allow him to stand as her protector in any way.

“She’s my mate,” I bite out, each word laced with possession. Clear enough for even a brute like him to understand. “Back off.”

The amusement on Dax’s face falters. He looks at me, then at Ren, and for the first time he seems to hesitate.

My growl continues low in my chest. “So whatever you think this is—” I motion between him and Ren. “—it ends now.”

Ren’s head jerks up, her expression confused and wary. “Mate?” she echoes. “What does that mean?”

I force myself to look at her, to soften the raging storm inside me for her sake. “I’ll explain everything later. Let’s just get you home first.”

Dax’s jaw works, but he finally takes a step back, letting Ren move away from him. She stumbles, and I’m at her sidein an instant, catching her before she falls. The moment her body presses against mine, something inside me settles, even as her condition reignites my barely constrained rage.

She’s too cold, too fragile. My mate is supposed to be safe, whole—not this.

I’ve failed her.

We start down the mountain in silence. The forest looms around us, quiet except for the crunch of our footsteps on the frosted ground and the occasional rustle of wind through the trees.

I take the bulk of Ren’s weight, but each step is a visible effort on her part. Her bare feet drag over the rocky path and her body trembles.

Her exhaustion is mine.

I glance over my shoulder once, just enough to catch a glimpse of Dax trailing behind us. His usual smirk is gone, replaced by a tense, brooding expression.

His jaw is tight as he paces close enough to watch but not intrude.

Hopefully this time, my earlier words—she’s my mate—have sunk in. He hasn’t said anything since. And I’d like to believe he’s finally keeping his distance because of it.

But I don’t trust him. Not really.

I doubt I ever will.

Ren pitches forward again and my arm tightens around her waist to steady her. She exhales sharply, her breath visible in the cold air, and the faint sound of pain in that exhalation tightens the ache in my chest.

I glance down at her, at the way she’s fighting to keep moving. Even when her body is clearly screaming for rest.

“Ren,” I say softly, stopping us both. She doesn’t look up, her head hanging low, her hair falling in tangled waves around her face. “You can’t keep walking like this.”

“I’m fine,” she mutters.

The hoarseness of her voice betrays her lie.

“No, you’re not.” I crouch slightly and slide one arm underneath her knees with the other bracing her back. “This isn’t up for debate.”

Before she can protest, I lift her into my arms, cradling her against my chest. She gasps softly. Her hands clutch weakly at my shirt, but she doesn’t fight me.

If anything, she seems to sag closer, her head resting on my shoulder as if even holding it up is too much effort.

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