Untamed Mate (Feral Shifters 2)

But who am I supposed to trust? At this point, I’m not even sure I trust myself.

Instead, however, the three of them make a formation around me as we race farther into the snowy mountains. Even though I know they can run faster than me, they keep my pace, staying close to my side.

None of us speak.

I sprint faster than I’ve ever gone before, amped on pure adrenaline. The shadow wrecked me, and even the shift into wolf form wasn’t enough to heal all of my injuries. But I can’t stop. When I finally do, all that pain and devastation is going to catch up to me.

For now, I have to run.

Summoning every bit of stubborn determination I have, I keep pushing until my lungs burn and my legs ache worse than before. We sprint for what feels like hours, until I physically can’t run anymore.

I stumble over my paws and go down on my front, ass in the air. I let the magic flow over me to shift me back to human form and haul myself back to my feet using a nearby tree trunk. Clinging to the trunk with icy snow melting beneath my bare feet, I gulp in deep lungfuls of air.

My body feels like fire from the roots of my hair to the soles of my feet. Shifting to wolf form healed some of my wounds, but not nearly enough. I feel like I’ve been hit by a semi going sixty on the highway. It takes all my strength to turn around, still holding onto the tree so I won’t fall.

Kian, Malix, and Frost stand behind me in the snow-covered clearing flanked by rock walls, already back in human form. They look like they belong here in the wilderness. Naked, wild, untamed, and covered in dark, swirling marks—each man a force of nature in his own right.

Their expressions give nothing away as the four of us study each other, recent events weighing heavily between us.

Then a burst of fury sends me launching away from the tree.

I slam my palms into Kian’s bare chest, putting my entire body weight behind it. “You asshole! What the hell was that? You held me in place for Quinton to kill me!” My voice pitches higher on the last sentence, echoing off the cavernous walls around us.

He barely stumbles, snow cracking and rustling under his feet. As I lunge to push him again, he catches my wrists and raises an eyebrow. His scar stretches with the movement, and his eyes gleam a rich brown and gold, making me think of whiskey.

That just pisses me off even more.

I jerk my wrists out of his grasp, then punch him in the face.

Kian jerks sideways, and Malix snaps, “Down, kitty!” while Frost makes a small, uninterpretable noise.

“This changes nothing,” I growl, glancing between them. “You may have saved my life, but I’m not giving up trying to stop you and your stupid apocalyptic mission.”

Kian rubs his jaw, considering me quietly.

None of them speak.

Their silence is deafening. It infuriates me. Their ambivalence, their ambiguous emotions, all of it just reminds me they’re more shadow than wolf, more magic than human, and they aren’t worth my time. I can’t rehabilitate evil.

I lash out again, this time wanting to claw Kian’s eyes from his head. Instead, I sway unsteadily from the sudden motion, and black edges creep in around my vision. I reach blindly for something to catch me, but I’m falling.

Falling.

Falling.

And I know nothing more.