by Eileen Wilks
“I should have told someone,” she cried as a sob tore from her. “I should have killed him myself. Something. Anything to have kept this from happening.”
Malachi shook his head. “Some things you can’t stop, baby. Ashley was running fast and hard toward an unlikely end. This way, it was contained and we were close enough to ensure she got the quickest medical care possible. She’s been so damned reckless over the past few months that her alpha has all but chained her to base whenever possible.”
Isabelle’s lips trembled. “She just wants to live, Malachi. She wants to experience so much, and she feels there’s so little time.”
“And she nearly cut that time incredibly short,” he sighed. “Maybe she’ll slow down now. Just a bit.”
Tucking her head against his shoulder he thanked God again that his mate was safe in his arms. Holden Mayhew had nearly taken her. He had nearly lost her to the depraved research the Council still hungered for.
“What now?” Isabelle asked. “Where do we go from here?”
She didn’t want to leave her family, or the Nation, he knew that. And he had no desire to take her from it.
“We already have a presence here, as well as a sub-base.” He shrugged. “I know Jonas has been looking for someone to head it. I’ve put in a request for the job.”
She sat up. Sudden, heated happiness filled his senses at the hope that brightened her eyes.
“We don’t have to leave?”
“Only when necessary,” he promised. “Only if the danger rises. But I have a feeling your family will ensure I have the help I need to protect you.”
He knew they would. She was a treasure to them, just as her sister was, and Malachi had found his own acceptance with them. Family, her father had told him. He was now a part of them.
“I love you, Malachi,” she whispered, bending to him, her hair falling around his face as she brushed her lips over his. “With all my being, I love you.”
“And I love you, Isabelle,” he swore. “You’re my breath of life. Always.”
“Always,” she breathed against his lips. “I love the sound of always, Malachi.”
Always.
The whispered promise of their hunger, their love and the dreams that had filled their lives.
It was always.