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

The wolf’s frustration took over, demanding she shift. Now. She tugged her shirt up and over her head, then tossed it at Hollis. The air on her bare chest was more divine than the touch of a lover. She shivered. Then again, it had been a lifetime since she’d had a lover. In seconds, she was naked, her body taut with excitement. Nothing was as liberating as letting the wolf run.

Poor Hollis stood, frozen, holding her things, forever trapped.

“This is what you’re missing,” she said, stretching her arms over her head and letting the cold night air caress her

.

But he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring up, overhead at the brilliant night sky. If it had been anyone else, she’d assume it was for modesty’s sake, but not Hollis. He was a man of science. Except for their run-in in the shower, he saw her as a scientific oddity. One to study and poke, question and prod, until he could classify and label her. Order was important to him. It’s how he lived his life—infuriating as that was. She studied him, closely, noting just how rigid his posture was and how tight his jaw was clenched.

“You never long to shift?” she whispered. “Not even a little?”

His gaze found hers instantly and it made her smile. How could he say he had no wolf when his senses said otherwise? She saw him, there, blazing in his gaze. Felt him. Surely he felt the wolf? His hearing. His sense of smell. And his vision—better in the dark than the bright light of day. His wolf. Taking care of him, part of him.

His eyes narrowed. “Why does it matter?”

“My wolf is my partner. As is yours. I cannot imagine my life without her. It’s a simple question.” And her wolf craved an answer.

“I suppose.” He blew out a slow breath. “From a purely scientific standpoint.”

She covered her mouth, but her laugh slipped out anyway. “Purely scientific?” Even now, whispering in the dark, he insisted on fighting his instincts. What a foolish, beautiful man. Instinct was key to her wolf. Right now, instinct demanded she touch him. She stepped closer, pressing her hand to his cheek. “There is so much more to our world, Hollis. If only you could see that and embrace it.”

Her wolf longed to show him. Maybe it was understanding the way his mind worked or how much he would appreciate every tiny detail and sensory experience. “What about your instinct, Hollis? The pull inside? You feel it, science or instinct, call it what you will.”

For an instant, he leaned into her hand, surprising them both.

“Go run.” He stepped away from her, the edge to his voice unmistakable. “I’ll follow.”

She lingered, staring at him, tempted to argue. But her wolf was done with arguing.

The change was quick. Years of practice eased each bone realignment, muscle dislocation, and shifting of internal organs. Giving in made all the difference. Anticipating, being fearful or timid, turned a perfectly natural event into something painful and traumatic. When her skin was covered with a thick gray coat and her claws sank into the ground beneath her feet, she stretched. It was so good.

“You make that look so damn easy,” he murmured.

She rubbed against him, throwing her full weight against his thighs and almost knocking him to the ground. He laughed, pushing her off of him.

She grabbed the waist of his pants with her teeth and tugged, hoping he’d follow her.

“I’m coming,” he mumbled, still smiling.

She shoved her head under his hand, groaning at the back of her throat as he rubbed along her head and neck with heavy, sure strokes. His touch was heaven. Her wolf would gladly stay under his hand.

He chuckled.

Ellen rubbed against him again, then sprinted into the towering pines of the forest. Cyrus had never let her run. If he had, it had been to train the pack to hunt—her the prey.

This was different. Even with Hollis tailing her, she felt free. Her wolf refuge sprawled, offering the pack a perfect place to run and explore. The native wolf pack accepted them, submitting to their superior size and strength. Ellen wasn’t as large as the wolves in Finn’s pack, but the local wolves still recognized her as something to respect and, possibly, fear.

Sadly, they shied away from her, leaving her with no one to run with. Anders and Dante were far too wary of her to ever play. Mal had Olivia. And Finn was Alpha, play wasn’t something he did.

Still, she ran and ran, stretching her legs and filling her lungs with the fresh night air. She circled back to Hollis now and then, bumping into him and knocking him to his knees before tearing off again.

Again and again, she ran—nosing a rabbit free from the underbrush and chasing it until it froze in abject terror. She had no desire to kill it, so she lay still until the poor animal made a mad dash for cover.

She circled back to Hollis, sneaking up behind him this time. She plowed over him, glancing back to see him push himself up and off the ground. If she could have laughed, she would have. Her wolf barked, whimpered, and ran on. There was a path that led to the summit of the closest peak. Her wolf took the long way, climbing and leaping, crawling under fallen tree limbs and nosing through moss and ground cover. When she reached the top, her wolf was peaceful.

Eventually Hollis joined her. “You don’t play well with others.” He sat on a boulder, breathing hard.

She crossed to him, flopping into his lap.