Rescued by the Wolf

by Sasha Summers

  “She’d have to be tough.” A woman spoke, her odd accent hanging in the air. “You have their scent on you. You were with the Others?”

  “They turned you?” Finn paused, glancing back at her in confusion.

  “No.” She shook her head, ridiculously relieved that Mal had been the one to make her a wolf. “Mal did. He saved my life.”

  A man spoke, his eyes wide. “Mal changed you? Mal, Mal? That hairy fella hanging on to you?”

  “Anders.” Mal nodded at the man, a small smile on his face. “You look good.”

  “Better than you, Mal. You going native? What’s with all the hair?” Ander’s hugged Mal hard. “I knew you weren’t dead. Nothing can kill you.”

  “Why did you change her?” Finn asked. There was no hint of accusation, but the tightening of Mal’s grip told her he didn’t appreciate the question.

  “She was dying.” Mal’s words were a growl.

  “You saved her,” a very pregnant woman said, smiling. Pregnant. Jessa. Finn’s mate. Her alpha’s mate. She was pretty, radiating warmth and welcome.

  “Humans die. It is natural.” The woman with the accent spoke again. “They’re fragile.”

  “Who the fuck are you?” Mal snapped.

  “Ellen.” She smiled at Mal, a slow, lazy taunting smile that made Olivia see red.

  Mal’s answering smile promised pain and violence. “This is going to be fun.”

  Finn sighed. “Mal.”

  “Hi, Mal.” Jessa crossed the room, hugging Mal. “Olivia, I’m Jessa. It’s so nice to meet you.”

  “You as well,” Olivia said, appreciating the woman’s attempt to diffuse the tension.

  “Ellen is helping out with my pregnancy,” Jessa said. “So, please, play nice.”

  “When are you due?” Mal never took his eyes off Ellen.

  “A few weeks,” Jessa said.

  Mal nodded. “I can wait. Anticipation’s a good thing.”

  Olivia knew it wasn’t an empty threat and almost felt sorry for Ellen. Almost.

  Mal’s smile turned genuine when he regarded Jessa. “You look good.”

  Jessa glanced at Finn. “Stop telling people to say that.”

  Finn held both hands up. “I didn’t say a word.”

  Watching them was educational. Olivia watched people; it was what she did. And while it was clear they were deeply in love, there was more—something she couldn’t readily identify.

  “Are you hungry?” Jessa asked her. “I’ve got a mountain of food. Those full-moon munchies are wild.”

  “First shift can make a wolf blood-crazed,” Ellen sounded off. “She’ll need to be watched.”

  Mal’s chuckle was hard. “She’ll need to be watched? After you get put in your cage for the night?”

  Ellen stood. “You know I’m right—”

  “I know you’re dead in a few weeks,” Mal cut her off. “If you say one more fucking word to me or Olivia, you’re dead tonight. Try me.”

  Ellen glared at him, her lips pressed tight and her nostrils flaring.

  “Food.” Jessa tugged Olivia’s arm. “Please,” she added, a little desperately.

  Olivia went, hoping Mal would follow. She understood his rage. She felt it, too. But none of Finn’s pack had been through what they had—they couldn’t understand. She hoped they never would.

  “See, mountains.” Jessa nodded at the stack of pancakes, massive tray of lasagna, and trays of muffins and breads. “Anders made a little bit of everyone’s favorite. There’s steak, chicken, and a turkey in the oven. You know, protein.”

  “Wow.” Olivia took the plate Jessa offered. “But what about the rest of the pack?”

  “They’ve been eating off and on all day. And tomorrow they’ll be exhausted and worn out.” Jessa smiled, piling pancakes onto Olivia’s plate. “And ravenous all over again.”

  Mal, Finn, and Anders joined them. Thankfully, there was no sign of Ellen.

  As she ate, Olivia focused on the dynamic, sorting through what had been said and left unsaid.

  Jessa was calm, surprisingly so, considering her circumstances. Finn’s first child had lost its mother in childbirth—that had to be unnerving. Yes, she was the Alpha’s mate, someone to protect above all else. But she was also expecting a baby that was part werewolf. And since her pregnancy had more bumps that the average human nine months did, Jessa might need protecting. Questioning that never wasn’t an option—and clearly a wolf thing—but Olivia was okay with it.

  Anders was curious. His frequent glances and quick smile assured her he was a friend. He just didn’t know where she fit.

  Join the club. She smiled at him. He smiled back, winking.

  Impatience rolled off Finn. Once they were sitting at the large wood plank table, he rested his elbow on it and stared at her. He wasn’t trying to be rude; he was trying to understand.

  “How did you meet?” Finn asked, his gaze turning to Mal.

  Mal’s attention remained on his plate. “She was in the cell next to mine.” Mal’s words were hard.

  Finn winced. “They were keeping you prisoner?”

  She nodded. “I’d been stabbed, and it was infected so I was sort of out of it. Mal carried me to safety.” She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until her first bite. The delightful mix of maple, butter, and pancake fluffiness was amazing. “It would have been easier if he’d let the bear eat me.”

  “Bear?” Jessa repeated, startled.

  “A bear tracked us, probably from my injury. It dragged me from camp, but Mal came after me.” She glanced at Mal. “By then, I was bleeding to death.”

  Mal’s jaw clenched, his dark brown eyes crashing into her. He’d saved her again and again.

  “We’re talking about Mal?” Anders’s confusion said it all.

  Mal glared at Anders then shot a look at Olivia. She smiled in return, appreciating the way the corners of his mouth turned up in response.

  She stared at her almost-empty plate. How had she eaten so much, so fast?

  “Why were they holding you captive?” Finn asked, watching her.

  “Bait?” It was the only theory that made sense. Finn would want to know about her brother, about her dealings with Cyrus—however small. But one look at Mal made her hesitate. He was concerned about Finn, about the safety of the pack. If Finn had been compromised in some way, she didn’t want to be the one to share the wrong thing. “I-I don’t know.”

  “Who knows what motivates the Others?” Anders said, taking a long swig of beer.

  Finn nodded.

  “Where is Brown?” Mal asked.

  “He’s with his daughter. She doesn’t do well when the moon is full.” Finn sat back, shaking his head.

  Olivia covered her mouth, yawning wide.

  Jessa covered Finn’s hand with hers. “She needs sleep, Finn. They both do.”

  “I have questions, too.” Mal’s voice was edged with tension.

  Finn nodded again, his pale eyes locking with Mal’s. “Whatever you want to know, Mal. I’m not keeping anything from you—I hope you’ll do the same.” He stood. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  She waited for Mal to say something. If there was ever a time to share there was a traitor in their midst, now was it. But he didn’t say a word. He stood, accepting Finn’s awkward hug, then pulled her chair back.

  “Your room is ready,” Jessa said. “Get some rest.”

  “Thank you so much,” Olivia said. “For everything.”

  “You’re part of the pack, Olivia,” Finn said. “I take care of my pack. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  Olivia nodded, and the connection tethering her to this man strengthened. She didn’t like it or understand it or want it, but she had no choice. Finn was her Alpha, and this was her pack. She didn’t know how to come to terms with that. Or what, exactly, any of this meant. A part of her wanted to scream or run or argue her way out of this place and back into her reality. But she knew that wasn’t going to happen. Now she had to fi
gure out how to be okay in this life, with or without Mal at her side.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mal paced the bedroom he was sharing with Olivia. Finn had to know they weren’t mates. Was he trying to test Mal’s control? Or had his sense of humor become seriously twisted since Mal left? Whatever the reason, he was pissed.

  And so fucking relieved.

  If she’d been in another room, it would be impossible to keep an eye on her or protect her. It had nothing to do with what he wanted or needed.

  Bullshit.

  His wolf was having a fucking field day with this. He was winning, wearing down Mal’s resistance. Why not make her his? No one would touch her then, or challenge his claim to her.

  Anders and Dante—hell, even Hollis—were his friends. They wouldn’t pursue her. If she was his.

  “All yours,” Olivia said, emerging from the bathroom on a cloud of steam, wearing a long flannel gown. “So, Finn, he’s mega-rich rich? Not that the bedroom on the airplane didn’t sort of tip me off.”

  Mal laughed. “Head of Dean Automotive, lots of investments, lots of money. So, yeah, obscenely rich.”

  She grinned. “I got that. The bathroom seemed a little over the top for a wolf refuge in the middle of nowhere. Not that I’m complaining about the heated floors or the waterfall shower. Not in the least.” She paused, rubbing her towel over her hair. “Where are we?”

  “Montana.”

  “Makes sense. Wolves. Not overly populated.”

  “Finn bought this place after he was infected. The dig site where it happened isn’t far from here.” Mal sat on the bench at the foot of the bed. “Figured keeping it protected might prevent anyone else from getting hurt.”

  She sat beside him, the towel in her hands. “He’s a good guy? Finn, I mean?”

  Mal nodded.

  “What Ellen said about tonight…” She stared at her hands. “Am I going to be dangerous?”

  “Yes. We all are. We’re wolves. Every time you shift, you’ll have the urge to rain a shit-storm of pain on whoever stands in your way. You’ll learn to control it.”

  “No training manual?” she asked, her attempt to tease strained.

  He cradled her hand in his. “Tonight will be the worst. You’ll be disoriented, confused.”

  “That’s what happened with Finn?” she asked.

  Finn had been out of his mind. He’d looked through them all, blazing with raw aggression and fueled by fear. One by one, he’d chased them down—no sign of the man he’d been. Mal’s first shift had been nothing like that. “I think Finn went through something else.”

  “But that’s how you were turned? And Anders and Hollis and Dante?”

  “Yes.” He wasn’t going to lie to her. “Finn lost it.”

  She stood. “How do you know I won’t lose it?”

  “You can’t hurt your pack. I mean, you can, but you won’t. Your wolf will know there’s no threat.” He stood, too. “There are no humans nearby.”

  “Jessa?”

  “Locked up and guarded.” Mal shook his head. “After tonight it won’t be like that. You and your wolf will connect and be one. You’ll learn to shift when you need to, regardless of the moon.”

  “What about things I do consider a threat?” She glanced at him, anger burning in her hazel eyes. “Like Ellen.”

  “I won’t stand in your way.” He’d love to see Olivia kick the bitch’s ass. “When you’re ready.”

  “I won’t be tonight?” She was too goddamn gorgeous, too soft and sweet, to be a monster. If he could go back—no, he wouldn’t change a thing. She was alive and here.

  He shook his head.

  “Will you—will I be alone?” she asked.

  His heart thudded. Never. He shook his head again. “I’ll be there.”

  “With me?”

  He nodded.

  She smiled, covering her mouth as she yawned.

  “Sleep,” he said, nodding at the large bed in the middle of their room.

  “Shower.” She nodded at the bathroom, grinning broadly as she climbed onto the bed. She collapsed against the pillows with a sigh. “Heaven.”

  Mal agreed. But standing here staring at her was pathetic. He forced himself from the bedroom, stripped off the undershirt and pants he’d found on the helicopter, and stepped into the steaming shower. The hot water stung, but the rhythmic rain of water eased the knots of tension from his shoulders and neck. Things were far from settled, but there was comfort in being back with Finn and the pack.

  Tonight, Olivia would shift.

  Tomorrow, he and Finn would talk. Beating the shit out of his Alpha had taken some of the fight out of him, but not all of it. It was time he told the pack that Ellen was gathering information about Cyrus. They’d react. They’d want answers. Hell, he wanted answers.

  While Mal had a hard time believing the bitch had anything of value to offer when it came to protecting Jessa, Hollis did. If they had to bide their time until the pregnancy was done, they could. But they’d be watching her, alert, and ready for any move that might come their way.

  And before Ellen died, they’d make sure to extract every piece of information they could.

  The only concern that needed immediate action was how she was contacting the Others. Finn wasn’t stupid, their wireless and internet were locked-down hard-core. If she was getting information to Cyrus now, how was she doing it? Or was she planning on escaping, taking something with her besides information about them? What the hell would the Others want from them?

  In the years since Finn’s pack had been infected, the Others had found the refuge once. But the entire raiding party had been killed. The refuge was just that—a refuge from their enemy and a place to be what they were away from the prying eyes of a world that would never understand. If Ellen had already compromised their location to the Others, why hadn’t they attacked? If she hadn’t given them away yet, then Mal would do whatever was necessary to keep it that way.

  He turned off the shower jets, dried off, and headed back into the bedroom.

  Olivia slept restlessly, her features fluid in sleep, her lips parted and cheeks flushed, the sudden hitch of breath followed by a soft gasp. His wolf wanted to touch her, so he ran his fingertips along her brow, smoothing the furrow. She turned into his touch, sighing as he pressed his palm to her cheek.

  He crouched by the edge of the bed, studying her face. He cared about her, and it scared the shit out of him. She was his mate—it’s what he wanted and what his wolf craved. But being his mate meant more pain for her—something he wasn’t willing to subject her to.

  But he’d cared before. Loving her, Jude, had meant her death. Finding what was left of the woman he’d planned to marry haunted him. Hate had been the only thing that mattered. Hating the Others. Hating himself. Hating Finn. Hating life.

  But he couldn’t hate Olivia. Or leave her. What he felt for her was too big, too real. All the cold hardness he’d wrapped around his heart had thawed during his time with her. She’d woken him up, made him live, made him fear.

  ...

  The white wolf was following her.

  She was running, but the snow at her feet was heavy and clinging—pulling her into the ground. It wasn’t white snow, it was red. The tang of blood, sharp and burning, flooded her nostrils.

  She could feel the breath of the wolf on the nape of her neck, smell the blood on his fur, and ran faster.

  Air powered from her lungs, her claws tore up the ground. Claws. Fur. She was a wolf now. And her wolf didn’t want to run anymore. She stopped, spinning in the blood-red snow to face the white wolf.

  But she was alone. Completely alone.

  Olivia sat up, the terror of her dream waking her.

  “Olivia?” Mal’s voice. Mal’s hands running over her arms. Mal’s warmth as he tugged her back down beside him. “Bad dream.” His voice was thick. “Just a dream.”

  She burrowed closer, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face to his chest.
His smell, his strength, made the trembling stop.

  “What was it?” he asked, sounding more awake.

  She shook her head.

  “Tell me.” His words were muffled against her temple.

  She looked up at him. “I was being chased by a white wolf.”

  His hand slid through her hair while his arm tightened around her waist.

  “I realized I was a wolf, s-so I turned to face him. H-he was gone.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I was alone.”

  “It was a dream,” he whispered.

  “That felt real. The ground was red.” She shook her head. “It felt real.”

  “Never happen.” Was he smiling?

  She blinked. “Okay. But—”

  “I’d never let it happen,” he said, interrupting her. Yes, he was definitely smiling.

  She smiled, too, confused. “You weren’t there.”

  He traced the side of her face with his fingertips, his eyes narrowing as they swept over her. His smile tightened then faded, leaving him looking vulnerable. “Which will never happen.” His voice shook. “Never.”

  Any hint of lingering fear or confusion was gone. Mal’s brown eyes bored into her, into her soul. She couldn’t move, didn’t want to. Right now, the only thing she wanted was to stay wrapped up in his arms and lost in his dark eyes.

  Until he kissed her.

  Soft. Gentle. The brush of his lips feather-light against hers, leaving her gasping. Mal, tender, made her ache, body and heart.

  Her hands slid up his sides, his chest and neck. She cradled his face, her thumbs stroking the rough stubble of his cheeks and hard angle of his jaw. He pressed his forehead to hers, the slight shake of his head making her hesitate.

  Then he was over her, the bed shifting beneath his weight. The tip of his tongue traced the seam of her lips, and she opened for him. His kiss was long and slow, his tongue and lips worshipping hers, drawing her earlobe into his mouth, nipping the length of her neck.

  But then he stopped. “We have to go.” He looked at her.

  “What?” she managed. They were going somewhere? “I’m good.”

  He grinned. “It’s getting late.”

  Late. “Oh.” She pressed her eyes shut. Late as in she’d be turning into a wolf soon, not losing her virginity.