Protecting the Wolf's Mate (Blood Moon Brotherhood 3)

“Your wolf?” She wasn’t about to let him off the hook. “He’s trying to warn you. Listen. It must be important.”

That earned her an eye roll. “Or it could be that I think this expedition into the city is a mistake. Too many things could go wrong.”

Ellen agreed. This pack was fearsome, but young. Finn, their Alpha, had yet to truly assume dominance over this pack. He’d have to in order to defeat their enemy. And, like it or not, defeating the Others was the only option. They were led by a wolf twisted beyond salvation. Cyrus. He instilled fear into the Others, doling out brute punishment with just enough praise to keep the pack hopeful of earning his approval. Pointless, she knew. But surprisingly successful. The pack was fanatically devoted to their Alpha. They would never yield, never listen to reason, or accept that the world beyond their warped, cold pack still contained good.

Oscar’s soft groan pulled at her heart. This little one was good. Pure, sweet, and innocent. He knew only the love of his parents and his pack. As it should be.

“Then tell your Alpha. Finn listens to you all. If you protest, maybe he will delay.” She stood, carefully carrying Oscar to his crib. Oscar was asleep. In the next room, Jessa, his very tired, very pregnant mother was asleep. As was, Finn, his very worried Alpha father.

But one look at the braced line of Hollis’s shoulders, the tightness in his jaw, told her neither of them would be sleeping tonight.

…

Of course, she would go there. His wolf. Always his wolf.

This wasn’t about that. In ten years, there had been no sign of his fucking wolf. Now, out of the blue, the thing’s going to pop up in his head with some SOS about impending doom? Why now? Why ever? No, it didn’t make sense.

“Stop glaring at me.” Ellen slammed a hand on her hip and glared right back.

She was better at it than he was. With her dark eyes and expressive features, she gave meaning to the term “if looks could kill.”

“I’m not.” He ran a hand through his hair, agitated.

“Liar.” She rolled her neck and stretched, pulling her tank top tight across the abundant breasts he did his best not to get sidetracked by. Her lack of bras and consistently small shirts didn’t help. At all. “You came here, remember?”

For reasons he didn’t understand. Since lunch, he’d been gripped with a queasy uneasiness that only increased as the day went on. Now, his nerves were strung tight and he had a piercing throb behind his right eye. And a dull roar in his ears.

“I wanted to check on Oscar.” Which was bullshit. Oscar was fine. He was with Ellen. She was probably the most capable and lethal wolf under this roof. Considering how many wolves were currently under the roof, that said a lot. Not because she was the strongest, but because she was the most experienced. They had only been living this dual life for a decade. Ellen… Well, he had no idea how long she’d been a wolf. And she was is in no hurry to share information with a pack that wasn’t her own. She was only here to help Jessa through her pregnancy and delivery, a fact she repeated whenever the opportunity presented itself. Once the baby was here and Jessa was out of danger, she was gone.

“Liar,” she repeated, softer this time. “What is it? You’re more brooding and insufferable than usual.”

She simultaneously insulted and worried over him. That was Ellen. A paradox. Fascinating. Amusing. Protective. Aggressive. And infuriating. Still, he couldn’t imagine the hole she’d leave when she finally left the pack. He’d hoped, in time, she’d find a place here. But the woman was incredibly stubborn. So stubborn that attempting to explain his urgent, yet, intangible anxiety would only result in another pro-wolf lecture, which was the last thing he wanted to hear. “Maybe it’s just a headache.”

Her mismatched eyes narrowed. “You foolish man.”

“You already said that.” He shrugged. “You can do better. I know you can.”

She smiled, quick and genuine and mind-numbing.

But staring at her like an openmouthed idiot didn’t go over well.

The glare was back. “I’m leaving.” She brushed past him, hostility rolling off her lithe form.

He followed. “Why?”

She glanced back, the same question in her eyes.

“I thought we could look over Jessa’s delivery plan.” The idea had only just occurred to him.

“Again?” She shook her head. “We have been over this. Again and again. At this point, she could probably deliver the child on her own.”

“Finn is worried.” Which was the understatement of the century. Jessa was Finn’s world. The bond between them was so strong Hollis worried about the effect losing her might have on his best friend. And his Alpha. While Hollis’s heart murmur altered the infection, which allowed his friends to become wolves, he was still bound by the unwavering loyalty to the pack—and Finn’s rule as the leader of their pack.

Ellen stopped walking, closed her eyes, and drew a deep breath. “Jessa is strong. Finn is her mate. Their bond will protect her—and their child. You must trust in—”

“Don’t say it.” They’d developed a mutual respect for each other but, when it came to the wolves and the infection, they would never see eye to eye. Things like destiny and fate were excuses for giving up on finding actual causes.

“Magic?” She started walking down the hallway again. “It’s here, all around you. Everyday. Yet you refuse to see it for what it is.”