Page 93 of Never Submit

Gunshots. Smoke bombs.

The sound makes my blood turn to acid. “What is that?”

Torin’s deltas are using weapons and holding the line as the door seals them off from us.

“They’re buying us time,” Torin says sharply. “We need to keep moving. Follow the tunnel. Don’t stop until you’re out.”

I glance at him, my wolf bristling at the thought of leaving anyone behind, but there’s no time to argue. “You’d better pray this works,” I mutter.

For once, there’s no biting response back. He just nods.

Torin takes the lead, his pace relentless as he guides us deeper into the tunnel. The walls are damp, the passage narrow, the air thick with the scents of earth and stone.

Ren stumbles beside Noble, her breathing labored but steady. Still in his wolf form, Dax moves like a shadow, his golden eyes gleaming in the dim light. All of us are here to make sure she stays safe.

Andras didn’t get the Moonstone. That has to count for something.

I bring up the rear, my gaze darting between my packmates to ensure no one gets left behind. The sound of distant gunfire fades as we press deeper into the tunnel, soon replaced by the echo of our footsteps and the heavy breathing of those who’ve been pushed to their limits.

Retreating feels like swallowing shards of glass. But I know Torin was right. As much as it stings my pride, my pack has taken too many hits, and the Steel Claws aren’t built for this kind of savage warfare—not like the Blood Moon pack, who thrive on raw brutality.

Fleeing wasn’t just the smart move—it was theonlymove.

The suffocating dark gives way to the fluorescent glow of an underground parking garage when we finally emerge from the tunnel.

The space is eerily quiet, the air heavy with the acrid scent of oil and exhaust. Rows of sleek black SUVs and luxury sports cars glint under the harsh lighting, the pristine setting a stark contrast to the chaos we just escaped.

The sight seems wrong. Too polished. Too calm.

It’s as if the violence and bloodshed are already a distant memory, erased by the sterile, orderly surroundings. My stomach turns itself into complicated knots.

I glance back at the tunnel entrance, half-expectingAndras’s wolves to burst through at any second. But the heavy steel door remains sealed shut. The deltas who stayed behind bought us this chance, but the cost lingers in the air, heavy and bitter.

Even a single wolf down is a huge loss.

“Get everyone loaded up,” Torin says as he moves toward a line of SUVs.

“Right.” I turn to the scared and bloodied faces of what’s left of my pack, my family. “Let’s go, everyone. We’ll address everyone’s wounds the moment we regroup.”

My pack moves quickly, piling into vehicles with tense, weary movements. Dax leans against the hood of a car for a moment, a human once again. His chest heaves and blood is smeared across his face and knuckles. There’s a deep gash across his bare chest, but most of the blood on him doesn’t seem to be his.

Noble keeps Ren close, his arm around her as she shakes off the remnants of the fight, her eyes burning with determination even through her exhaustion. He helps her inside the car.

When everyone has been loaded into the SUVs, I step inside to the passenger seat just as Torin slides into the driver’s seat. His expression is unreadable but his movements remain stiff. It’s clear he hates fleeing as much as I do.

“This isn’t over,” I say to him.

Torin glances at me, his blue-gray eyes flashing. “No shit. It’s just beginning.”

I give a sharp nod.

The rumble of engines echoes through the garage like war drums.

For the first time in my life, a new, wild hunger for vengeance swirls inside me. For blood and death and carnage.

Is this how Dax always feels? But now I understand.

We’ll lick our wounds. We’ll regroup. And we’ll strike back.

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