Page 49 of Never Submit

She has a connection with all of us. Denying it won’t make the connection any less real or valid.

My wolf wants her to be happy over anything else. So if that means having to share…I’m going to have to figure it out.

I can’t deny having Torin fuck her mouth while I take her from behind was hot as hell. The sounds she made, the way she pleaded for us to take her—fuck me,it was amazing. Beyond amazing.

Absolute heaven.

Am I able to let her have this kind of moment with the others if I’m not around? Do I have a choice?

Finally I draw myself from her body, naked and vulnerable.

Ren leans against the edge of the billiard table, her body trembling from the remnants of what we just shared. Her shirt is gone, discarded somewhere in the chaos, leaving her in nothing but the lace bra that clings to her like a second skin.

Her leggings hang low on her hips, teasing the curve of her waist. Her hair is wild, tangled and damp with sweat, falling over her shoulders in dark, messy waves that catch the dim light.

Her eyes hold me hostage.

They’re heavy-lidded, hazy with satisfaction, and underneath the haze there’s fire—a restless and untamed energy that my wolf recognizes and knows will never go away.

She really isn’t human anymore, I realize in that moment. Which is stupid because she told me what the Moonstone did to her, but I can see it—feel it—now.

She’s not even all wolf, like us. She’s somethingmore.

She looks like chaos personified. Like temptation wrapped in fury and vulnerability. And even now, I can’t stare at her without wanting her again. I crave her.

The billiard table creaks beneath her weight as she shifts, leaning back, her arms behind her for support. As I watch her, she tracks Torin as he fixes his tie in stark silence, and I see the questions hovering on her lips.

She wants to ask him what happens now. And I’m wondering the same thing.

As if the universe has heard my thoughts, Torin’s phone rings, cutting through the growing tightness in the air.

He tenses and pulls it out of his back pocket. The screen lights up with a name that might as well be a curse.Catarina.

It’s there as he answers—the guilt flickering in his eyes. Before the stern Torin mask slips back into place.

Ren stands up, instantly alert. Her head tilts as if she can sense it too, the crack in the moment, reality flooding back in.

Torin hesitates before he answers, his voice smooth and low. “Hello?”

The casual tone grates on me, but it’s Ren’s reaction that makes my jaw tighten. Her spine gets a little straighter, her lazy, post-bliss demeanor completely gone, replacedwith sharp awareness. She doesn’t say a word, but I can feel her tension, see her muscles tighten, poised for attack.

“Yeah,” Torin says. His tone softens further. “No, I didn’t forget. Everything with the venue is still on track. Tonight?” Hesitating, he glances at Ren. “I’m not sure I can?—”

Catarina’s annoyed tone buzzes from the other end like a drone of wasps.

“Fine,” Torin finally says. “Dinner tonight. I’ll make a reservation. Yes, Catarina, I understand.”

The words hit like a slap. He’s talking to Catarina like nothing happened—like he wasn’t blowing his fucking load down Ren’s throat minutes ago.

Torin turns his back on us and continues to whisper into the receiver. “I know.”

“Unbelievable,” Ren whispers, the word barely audible but carrying a venom that cuts through the air. “After all that?”

Covering the cell’s speaker, Torin moves across the room to continue talking by the large single-paned window.

I step closer to Ren, the post-nut euphoria from earlier forgotten, replaced by a frustration of my own.

Torin knows better. He knows what just happened and what it means, and still he’s ignoring his feelings and treating Ren like she doesn’t matter.

---