“You can’t see something that doesn’t exist,” he said in a whisper. Arguing with Ellen, as diverting as it was, wasn’t high on his priority list tonight. Hell, he still wasn’t sure why he was following her around, only that he was.
“I’m a wolf. I can hear you a mile away.” She glanced over her shoulder again but didn’t slow. “If you refuse to use your own senses, you can read about it in one of those books you have in your office.”
He didn’t have to read about it to know it. His senses were just as accelerated. Smell. Hearing. Strength. If he didn’t know that shifting was impossible for him, he might have considered the possibility that, deep inside, he had a wolf. “Speaking of books. Where is the one you were reading to Oscar?”
Once they reached the common room and kitchen, she headed straight for the refrigerator. “It’s in his room.” She peered around the door. “I’d leave it. Unless you want to deal with a screaming toddler, his angry father, and hormonal mother. Anders has been baking again.” Her immediate delight at the plate of cookies was disarming. She continued to surprise him, even after spending months with him and his pack. “Milk.” She placed the carton on the marble counter. “It’s a wonder you’re not all fat.”
He didn’t argue. They all dealt with free time in their own ways. Anders cooked comfort food in large quantities.
“Delicious.” She groaned around a mouthful of oatmeal raisin cookie. “Want one?”
He reached for a cookie and knocked a picture over. She caught it before it hit the floor, her gaze lingering. “What a motley crew you are.” But there was a wistfulness. As far as he knew, she had no pack, no family, or anyone who cared about her. Which made him wonder all over again why she was so eager to leave them.
She placed the picture back in place. “You need a new picture. Olivia isn’t in this. And the new baby will be here soon enough
.”
“With any luck, the pack will stop growing for a while.” He ignored her glare. “Besides, group photos aren’t high on the priority list.”
“Take time to record your history, Hollis. You know how important such things are.” They disagreed on many things—from curing the infection that made them into wolves to the value of science versus superstition. But on this, leaving a record, they agreed. “You’re tense. More so than usual. If such a thing is possible. You need to find something to occupy your time.”
Besides trailing her like a lost puppy? Yes, he did. Something, anything, that would stop whatever the fuck was gnawing at his insides and keeping his nerves on edge.
“Target practice?” she asked, taking a long swig of milk from the carton.
He devoured two of the freshly baked cookies on the counter and took the milk jug she offered. “Knives?” Her affinity with knives was another mystery. Why would a woman capable of turning into a near-perfect killing machine need to be skilled with such weaponry? And saying Ellen was skilled with a knife didn’t adequately describe just how graceful, and lethal, she was with a blade.
“Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two.” She was smiling, goading him. Something else she loved to do. “At the very least, I’ll get your mind off whatever is troubling you.”
He paused. Doubtful.
“If you don’t want to bleed, you’ll pay attention.” Her smile wavered enough for him to see she was—in her way—offering to help. “My wolf wants to hunt. Tonight, you’re the prey.”
Chapter Two
By morning, the entire pack was braced. Apparently, Hollis’s mood was contagious. Ellen’s only choice? Avoid them. All of them. Even if it meant sacrificing breakfast—something she needed. After a night of gleefully attacking Hollis with her array of knives, she was starving. And, as always after a fight, her senses were alive and firing, making it that much harder to ignore the mounting tension.
It was her wolf that demanded she stop avoiding and ignoring, and to go seek out Jessa. One look at her pale face as she gripped the changing table in Oscar’s room was all it took to explain the odd buzz in the air.
The Alpha’s mate was in labor.
Not just any labor. A human woman delivering a wolf-pup child. A human woman doing her best to pretend as if nothing were wrong.
“Conserve your strength,” Ellen murmured at the woman’s side.
Jessa glanced her way. “I’m fine.”
“You are,” she agreed. “And my job is to keep you that way. For your husband, your son, and that one.” She nodded at Jessa’s tight stomach.
“It could be a false alarm.” Jessa’s blue gaze darted toward Oscar, already down for a morning nap. “I don’t want to add more stress. Finn has enough to worry about.”
“Come sit.” She snorted, watching as Jessa made her way to an upright rocker. “Your mate is an Alpha. Stress is part of that. And this stress he will welcome.” Which was true. The larger Jessa became, the greater Finn’s concern. While she was confident both mother and child would come through delivery healthy, the rest of the pack weren’t so sure. But they didn’t know what she did. She knew what it was to be a wolf. She knew the power of a solid mated pair. Cyrus and the Others might have robbed her of her memories, but snippets slipped through and occasional glimpses of what was—what should be—remained. There was something familiar about the bond between Finn and Jessa. Something irrefutably solid and irrevocable.
Her fingers absentmindedly ran along the scar slicing along the crown of her head. How it came about she didn’t remember. Who put it there, she had no doubt. Soon this baby would be born, Jessa would no longer be in danger, and she would be free to go. That was the agreement they’d made. Finn had proven himself respect-worthy in her time with the pack. She had every reason to believe he would honor their agreement.
“Ellen?” Hands on her stomach, there was no missing the crease of pain between Jessa’s brows.
Ellen stopped pacing and sat. “Breathe.” She drew in a deep breath, hoping Jessa would follow her lead.