Page 47 of Untamed

I watch with wide eyes as the three males start to speak, herding me toward the vehicle outside alongside Purple and Coffee. It's seamless as if they've cornered helpless animals a thousand times before.

There's a fire in the north? Is thatmyfire? My mind fills with images of my home on fire, the heat crackling against my skin. My eyes stinging with tears, and my lungs hurting from the smoke. My Father's body on the floor...

My heart starts to race. The beating rises faster and faster as Mactiir lifts me into the truck, my limbs suddenly stiff with fear.I have nothing. Not a thing to my name except what this male gives to me. I'm cornered, prey to his predator.

"C'mon,Qitsuk. You rode in the truck yesterday," he soothes me.

I look at him, begging him silently to tell me if I caused the fire. Did my burning cabin kill my forest, my home, my friends the trees?

What did I do?

I want to speak now. I want to ask the question; how bad? I was in the forest just a day ago and felt nothing but tranquility from the trees. Was the fire too far away, or has it grown into a monster in just the last day?

I want to ask, but my tongue won't form the words. My she-wolf is no help, snarling and pacing in my mind as she absorbs the blow. We are destroyers.

Mactiir runs his hand down my back, petting meagain. This time, I don't fight the soothing feeling that runs down my spine with his touch. My limbs go from too-stiff to compliantly liquid in just a moment.

"She's afraid of the truck?" The Dark Male asks quietly.

Mactiir tucks me into the seat next to the wheel. Purple gets in next to me, leaving Coffee and the other two males to climb into the back.

"She's steady?" Mactiir asks Purple, getting a nod before he walks around the vehicle to get in his spot. Turning the key, he glances in the odd mirror dangling in the middle of the ceiling. "She's fine," he says to the Dark Male, an odd edge in his voice.

His hand finds mine as he steers the vehicle down the gravel. I give in, my body is trembling, and my tongue won't work because I refuse to speak, and now I must pay the price. I curl to the side and lay my head in Mactiir's lap.

He sucks in a deep breath but doesn't say anything.

"She's just a pup, In.," the Dark Male says.

"She's my mate," comes the swift reply. "I know what she needs."

Two low male growls rumble deep in full-grown chests. I start to sit up, but Mactiir's answering growl makes me stop short in an awkward half-sitting position.

"I am the alphason," he snarls. "She is my luna. I won't hurt her."

I manage to sit up, looking at the three males that I'm trapped in her with. My she-wolf is making her own low sounds of warning. Why did Mactiir suddenly tell these males he won't hurt me? Was he going to? This chain is trapping me with Mactiir, but I'll gnaw it off if I have to.

I glance at the older males, only to see twin smirks of amusement and pride.

These males are as crazy as my- as Mactiir.

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Inuit

I run my fingers through her golden locks, and as she sits up, my hand drops to her thigh and stays there. Her eyes track Thjis and Rhet, making my jaw ache with the desire to turn around and snap fang right in their faces, brothers or not. I want that golden gaze on me all the time. Not on them or any other male.

There's a reason why they sat in the back of the truck, damnit.

"Little Luna growled at Porscia and scared her off," Thjis changes the subject with a slow smile crawling over his face. "She stopped me to complain as I was coming back from the shed."

Thjis has an issue with Porscia. There's no love lost between them, that's for damn sure. Thjis has a long memory, and he is not a fan of Porscia’s late son, Drew.

"Are you scaring elders,Qitsuk?" I ask her. As much as I want to laugh myself, I can't encourage the future luna to ostracize old females. Our pack depends on Lyri and me to reassure them.

Alright, they depend on their luna, Lyri. RustClaw hasn’t had a normal alpha-pair for a decade. I am the alpha. I would say that so is Jax. Lyri’s touch soothes wolves. Her words offer a balm to the wild spirit in each of us. I can't do it, my wolf isn't interested in comfort, and Jax can't tolerate anyone's touch these days.

I hope my Qitsuk will be able to step into that role, but of all the traits my wild little cat shows, compassion and empathy aren't two that I've seen yet.

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