Blissful for her, maybe not so much for him? He’d had sexual experiences before. What she’d considered a life-changing event might not rank in his top ten. Her euphoria took a sharp dip. Not that she wanted him to stay for purely physical reasons. She just wanted him to stay—with her.
He wouldn’t leave her right away. If he did go, it would be after she’d been accepted by Finn’s pack. A pack she didn’t know. There was so much she didn’t know. With Mal’s tight-lipped disposition, getting answers from him would be a challenge. And time was running out.
“What’s wrong?” His voice was gruff.
She jumped. “Nothing. You were sleeping.”
“I was,” he agreed. “Your heart is pounding.”
“And that woke you?” she asked, smiling. Was it wrong that she loved how in tune he was to her?
“Apparently.” He stretched, his hard angles grinding against her back in a most distracting way. “What’s wrong?”
No point lying. He’d figure it out. “Thinking. About things. This Ellen person. I saw your reaction.”
He groaned.
“I understand. Why trust her? If she’s an Other—”
Mal’s voice was harsh, biting. “The girl in the house said Cyrus had someone on the inside.”
The warmth drained away as she pulled out of his arms and rolled onto her stomach, staring down at him. “Wait. She’s working for Cyrus like a-a spy?”
He shrugged.
“But that’s what you’re thinking?” she pushed.
His half-hearted nod made the hair on the back of her neck stand straight.
“Why would Finn be okay with this?”
He shrugged again. “Dante said she was helping Jessa. Her well-being is all that matters to Finn.” A slight furrow marred his brow as his gaze dipped, skimming her neck and shoulder. He ran a hand over his face and sat up. “We’ll know soon enough. We landed.”
Olivia froze. True, the steady roar of the engine and low vibration had stopped. She sat up, tugging the sheet around her, and watched as Mal pull on the pants he’d discarded earlier. Words rushed up, clogging her throat. In a few minutes, he’d walk out, and she might never have the chance to say all the things she wanted to.
He tied his boots and stood, his dark gaze meeting hers. “What?”
She shook her head.
His eyes narrowed. “Nervous?”
She nodded.
“Don’t be.” His tone was soothing.
“Everything I’ve ever known is gone. I’m going to a strange place, full of strangers, possibly a bad guy—er, girl—to be left.” She tossed off the sheet, stooping to collect her clothing. “Oh, and don’t forget about the full-moon skin-tearing wolf-monster thing I get to experience.” She tugged on her white trucker T-shirt. “You’re right, no reason to be nervous. None, whatsoever.”
Mal sighed. “I didn’t mean—”
“You’re going to sigh at me?” She jerked the sweatpants tight.
Mal’s hands covered hers, working the knot free and tying it more comfortably at her waist. His fingers grazed her stomach, leaving her tingling. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Not right away,” she interrupted, suddenly breathless.
His hands settled at her waist. “Let’s take this one step at a time.”
She looked up at him, the heat in his gaze stealing some of her anger. “Step one?”
“Meeting Finn and his pack.” One of his hands slid under her shirt to stroke the skin of her stomach.
She shivered, her body tightening with instant yearning. One touch and she was lost, swaying into him. As distractions went, it worked well. When his hand slid up to cradle her breast, she was gasping. The light flick of his thumb against the erect tip had her holding onto him. A broken groan slipped from his mouth, inflaming her even more.
“This isn’t normal male-female wolf interaction, is it?” she asked.
Hs stiffened. “Did Dante—does he make you want him?”
She blinked, surprised by the razor-sharp edge of his voice. “In the twenty minutes he was shot and bleeding and mostly unconscious? No. So far, you’re the only that makes me like this.”
He blew out a deep breath and stepped back, his gaze searching her face.
Was he disappointed? “Is that what you want?” she whispered. “For me to feel this way with someone else?”
“No.” He bit the word out, so harsh Olivia jumped. “Let’s go.” He clasped her wrist and led her from the room, not bothering to turn back—or release her.
Olivia couldn’t stop her smile then. He might not be happy about the effect she had on him. But he wasn’t denying it. And that was a good place to start.
Chapter Twelve
Gentry drove, so Mal sat in the front passenger seat, his attention seeking out Olivia in the visor mirror again and again. She was squished against her seat, making as much room for Dante as possible. He wasn’t doing so hot, the silver in his body making him weak and green. If he thought it sucked now, he was going to have a hell of a time when they dug the metal out. It had to be done so Dante could shift and heal.
The sooner they got there, the sooner he’d have to face facts. Him and Olivia. There was a small part of him that hoped she’d bond with another wolf—a very small part of him. Which would likely result in his wolf trying to kill whoever it was. She’d been worried about Dante, but not overly so. As big an asshole as that made him, Mal was relieved.
Is that what you want? For me to feel this way with someone else?
She hadn’t been prepared for his response. Hell, he hadn’t been prepared for his response. But as soon as the words were out, he knew the answer. Not just no, but fuck no. Having this much space between them with another wolf present was driving him crazy, a weakness he was doing his best not to reveal to Gentry or Dante.
He alternated watching the road and checking on Olivia. She seemed to shrink into herself in the morning sun, staring out the window with wide eyes, her brain in overdrive. Her wolf could sense what was coming and wasn’t making it easy on her. Once the shift was over, both Olivia and her wolf should be more at ease with their new status. For her sake, he hoped that was the case.
There’d been some improvements since he was last at the refuge. The fencing was higher, threaded through with razor wire and some high-tech cameras and sensors, but the ivy-covered cinder-block walls were just as tall and thick as they’d been three months before. Only now they didn’t offer the same sense of protection.
“New security?” Mal asked as they approached the refuge entrance.
“Brown went on an upgrade rampage after we got his daughter back.” Gentry glanced at him, steering Finn’s state-of-the-art, bulletproof SUV through the massive reinforced metal gates of the refuge. “She’s pretty messed up.”
“Who is Brown?” Olivia’s question was hesitant.
Mal’s tone was soft. “Brown is Finn’s head of security. Good man with an axe to grind. Eight years ago, the Others killed his wife and took his daughter.”
“She barely talks, acts like a cornered animal most of the time.” Gentry paused. “They turned her.”
Mal stared out the windshield, processing this new development. Brown’s daughter had been bitten by the Others, making her an Other. Where did her loyalties lie? She’d been a captive for so long, it was a legitimate question. Could being liberated from her abductors allow her alliance to move from one pack to the next? The unknowns were piling up again.
“She’s a wolf?” Olivia asked.
Gentry nodded. “Just like you, missy,” he said, all southern charm.
Mal glared at him.
“But the only wolves in Finn’s pack are you”—Olivia pointed at Mal—“Dante, Anders, Hollis, and Finn?”
“And Oscar,” Dante added, his voice hoarse.
Gentry chuckled. “Cute little thing, too.”
“Oscar is Finn’s son,” Mal reminded her. “The only natural-born wolf among us.”
Olivia
nodded, her hand absentmindedly rubbing her leg. “And Jessa is expecting a baby…wolf?”
Mal nodded. One more thing that needed defending. What the hell was Finn thinking? It was bad enough when he’d knocked up some hookup in the first place. She’d died because of it—leaving a son to be raised by their pack. Adding a mate and kids to the mix was asking a hell of a lot, from all of them. His actions dragged all their wolves into his emotional free-fall—taking one more choice from them. He flexed his hand, the familiar prickle of anger skimming across his skin.
“How are you involved, Gentry?” Olivia asked. “You’re not a wolf.”
“Never been invited to join the pack.” He winked. “But, hell, as long as I get to blow things up and shoot my big guns now and then, I’m happy.”
“You’d want to be turned?” Olivia’s curiosity made Mal smile. He liked that about her, the way her mind worked, even if all the questions got irritating. If he was ready to face facts, and he wasn’t sure he was, there wasn’t much he didn’t like about Olivia.
“Are you kidding me?” Gentry asked. “Who wouldn’t want to let out their inner beast now and then, raise a little hell, kick a little ass.”
“You make it almost sound good,” Dante murmured. “Almost.”
Mal glanced at Olivia in the mirror. She was smiling, her brows arched high in astonishment.
The SUV stopped, parking in a freestanding garage. Gentry climbed out, opening Dante’s door. “Lend a guy a hand?” Gentry asked.
Now that they were here, Mal was torn—the need to fight and run versus the pull of the pack. It had been so long, he’d almost forgotten the feeling. But now, with Dante hurting and vulnerable, he couldn’t shut it out. Mal gritted his teeth and came around the vehicle, hooking Dante’s other arm over his shoulder. He stared at Olivia. “Stay close.” He knew he sounded like an overbearing dick and didn’t care.
“She’s safe,” Dante rasped. “Try to relax.”
Mal kept his thoughts to himself, relieved that Olivia took his other hand and stayed close by his side. She was safe because he was with her. But he knew someone inside was a traitor. He knew to be careful. He was the pack hothead, the reactionary one. He could walk in and start hurling accusations, stir up a shit-storm of suspicion. It’s what he wanted to do. But he wasn’t willing to place Jessa, the baby, Oscar, and Olivia in immediate danger. For now, he was the outsider, something he could use to get the lay of the land. Until he knew who Cyrus’s go-to was, what they were after, he’d stay alert—and close to Olivia.
They’d made it to halfway across the yard when Hollis opened the front door. He sprinted out to meet them. “What happened?” he asked, focusing first on the patient—he was hard-wired that way.
“Motherfuckers opened fire.” Gentry shook his head. “Never done that before. Some shifted, some didn’t. Ones that didn’t, opened fire.”
“Some sort of silver-coated bullets,” Mal offered. “Sticks in the wound.”
Hollis’s sharp green eyes met his, his smile unexpectedly sincere. “Good to see you, Mal.” His awkward one-armed hug was abrupt. He took Dante’s other arm from Mal. “Let’s dig it out.”
“Do I have a choice?” Dante groaned.
Hollis chuckled. “Not if you want to heal.”
“Or shift,” Mal added.
Hollis nodded. “Finn’s coming out to greet you. Both of you.” His gaze lifted long enough to find Olivia.
Mal ran a hand over his face. “Great.”
“It’ll be fine, Mal.” Dante’s voice was unsteady.
“Gentry, stay with me,” Hollis said, leading Dante inside. “I might need an extra set of hands.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Dante groaned.
“It’s not going to feel good, either.” Hollis sighed.
“Way to sugar-coat it, Doc.” Gentry chuckled as they disappeared inside the house.
Finn was coming? What the fuck was taking him so long? He was supposed to stand outside for him to make his appearance? He’d waited long enough. Might as well rip off the fucking Band-Aid so they could all stop feeling guilty. It wouldn’t do much for his wrath. Mal grabbed Olivia around the wrist and pulled her toward the house.
“Mal.” Her voice was soft.
He stopped.
She lifted her arm, his vice-like grip too tight.
“Fuck.” He let go of her, rolled his head, and stared at the sky overhead.
“I know it’s not much, but I’m here Mal.” Her voice was confident, her fingers twining with his. “No matter what, I’ve got your back.”
Her words pulled his gaze to hers, anchoring all his attention on her. She had no idea what her words meant. The life she’d lived had been flipped to hell, her future was uncertain, and in a few hours, she’d be facing her first shift. Instead of freaking out or running for the hills, she was pledging her loyalty to him. For the first time in too long, loneliness didn’t weigh him down.
...
Mal’s smile made it easier to breathe. “I’ll hold you to it.”
She nodded, offering him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
However calm she appeared, she was a wreck. Her nerves were in overdrive, absorbing, filtering, processing more information than she knew what to do with. Questioning what was and wasn’t real at this point was stupid. There was no denying this was happening. She could sense them, Finn’s pack, inside the house. Mal was bracing for a fight. But whether the fight was with Finn or inside himself, she wasn’t sure.
What she was sure of—she wanted to throw up. Throw up and pass out. Or run. Running would be good. She was hot, but cold. Starving, but nauseated. Everything was mixed-up—twisted and out-of-sorts. Her heart was on the verge of pounding its way from her chest. Her lungs ached for air. And her mind was spinning with distant voices, images, thoughts, and sounds that weren’t hers. She was being invaded by something she couldn’t see.
She fought the urge to slide an arm around Mal’s waist, pressing a hand against his lower back instead. She knew his touch calmed her; maybe she had the same effect on him.
Beneath her hand, Mal’s muscles clenched. She barely had time to register what was happening. One second he was there, the next he was gone. Then Mal, out of control and dangerous, was slamming his fist into another man’s face.
Finn. She knew it was him, recognized him and what he was to her. Her Alpha. The link was instantaneous—new but unwavering.
The growl that ripped from Mal clutched at her heart. It wasn’t just anger. It was heartbreak.
Finn stood, stunned, but made no effort to protect himself.
Mal didn’t hesitate. His fist sank into Finn’s side, a resounding snap and Finn’s muttered oof echoing in the open air. A punch in the abdomen knocked Finn back several feet. Mal crushed Finn’s nose, blood spurting all over the man’s face and shirt.
She’d been furious with Finn on Mal’s behalf. But this, this wasn’t right. Mal would hate himself if he didn’t stop.
But there was no one to stop him. Except her.
Mal kept pummeling him over and over until Olivia worried he might beat him to death. When Finn fell flat, Olivia moved. She ran across the yard, putting herself between them. “Mal.” She placed a hand on his chest, searching his crazed brown eyes for some sign of her man. She hurt for him, ached for the wounds deep inside that hadn’t healed. “Mal, please.” She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face against his chest.
He was panting hard. Thundering heart. Barely controlled. She closed her eyes, her hands stroking over his back again and again. If she concentrated on slowing her heart, on calming the agitation and fear in her mind, Mal might do the same.
Slowly, his arms drooped at his sides and his posture eased. Olivia let go of him, stepping back as he crumpled to his knees in the dirt.
Was Finn okay? She turned, staring at the bloodied face of the man Mal had been hell-bent on beating. Their Alpha. Her Alpha.
“You we
re going to let me keep going?” Mal’s words were hard and desperate.
Finn sat up slowly, spitting dirt and blood from his mouth. He nodded. “I deserved that. And more.” The anguish in Finn’s words stole some of the anger she knew Mal clung to. “Nothing I say—” Finn cut off. He shook his head.
The struggle in Finn’s words cut deep. His regret and self-loathing was tangible, the guilt for what his choice had cost Mal. In Finn’s pale eyes, Olivia glimpsed bone-crushing grief for what Mal experienced. Mal did, too. The broken look on Mal’s face was too much. She reached out, resting her hand on his shoulder while resisting the urge to wrap herself around him.
“I’m glad you’re home, Mal.” Finn’s voice was hoarse.
Mal grunted.
“You must be the new pack member?” Finn’s pale gaze met hers as he wiped blood from his nose and upper lip.
She nodded, stepping back as Mal pushed himself to his feet.
“Olivia Chase,” Mal answered for her, tucking her behind him. He offered Finn a hand and tugged him to his feet.
Finn glanced between them. “Welcome.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
Finn smiled, gesturing to the house. “You can relax here. Whatever you need.”
“I could use a shower.” Mal sighed, swiping the dirt from his knees. “You should eat, rest up for tonight,” he told her.
“Tonight is your first shift?” Finn asked, leading them to the front door.
She nodded again. “Should I be excited or terrified?”
Finn’s crooked grin was charming. “Maybe a little of both?” He pushed open the front door.
“She’ll do fine.” Mal’s fingers twined with hers as they entered the house.
The ripple in the air made her tense. Mal, too. A room full of unfamiliar faces—and an unknown threat. The same ripple as the truck stop. She’d known there was an Other here, but she hadn’t expected them to be here here. Who was it, and why weren’t they caged? Guarded? Being watched? Did Finn and his pack not realize what they were capable of? Olivia’s wolf was struggling for control. The need to hunt, to fight, was instinctual when it came to their rival pack.
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