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

If he had a choice in any of this, would he have lost his fucking mind when he woke up alone? Fuck no. But it didn’t matter. He had—he still was. So much so that he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

She glared right back.

“You didn’t tell her?” Olivia asked.

Big mistake. He knew that now—for both of them. “I…I wasn’t thinking—”

“With your head? No shit.” Mal shook his head. “No wonder she’s pissed at you.”

“It wouldn’t have changed things,” Ellen said, her gaze falling from his.

What the hell did that mean? It hurt to breathe. From the fire in her eyes and the angle of her jaw, she meant it. No. She couldn’t. She kept pushing the fated bullshit—the magic. But lashing out was her way of protecting herself from hurt or punishment. It hurt like hell, her words, slicing deep and leaving him gasping. Even though he understood why she said it.

The damage Cyrus had done to her extended far beyond the scars on her skin. Fucking bastard. A vision of him and his colorless eyes filled his mind. The glass he was holding shattered, sending orange juice across the table and imbedding shards into his fingers and palm.

“Jesus.” Mal growled, pushing back from the table. “You need to learn how to control your wolf.”

“Fuck you,” he bit out, ignoring the truth in his words. Control? It didn’t apply to Ellen. And Cyrus? No fucking way.

“Are you okay?” Olivia was already pulling out the glass and wiping at the blood. “That one looks deep.”

“I’m fine.” He barely glanced at his hand, the taunt of her words and the remembered sneer on Cyrus’s face too much to shake. And he was shaking, his body, his muscles tightening in a wavelike ripple.

“Shifting in the middle of a hotel restaurant isn’t fine.” Mal placed a hand on his forearm, his hold bruising.

Part of him wanted to shake off Mal’s hold and fight him. Fight Mal? No—just fight. His blood was throbbing with rage, hot and alive and making his ears ring. The ripples were stronger now, and a tugging ache settled in his joints. A cold sweat covered his back, making his shirt stick and his skin prickle with awareness. Every sound was amplified.

Mal’s whispered curse.

Olivia’s rapid breathing.

Ellen’s heart. He’d recognize it anywhere. Strong. Fierce. Accelerated, but steady. And her scent, weighted with aggression and irritation. “Breathe, Hollis. Focus.” It was her voice. Frustrated and impatient. But her, nonetheless. And he responded to it. That other part of him, the new part—the wolf part.

“Here.” Olivia shoved a glass of water his way. He downed it, wanting more.

“I get it. Neither of you are ecstatic over the whole mate thing.” Mal kept his voice low, calm. It was a struggle. “And it’d suck to be stuck with someone I didn’t like—but there’s no going back now. For either of you.”

Going back? His gaze settled on the woman he was inextricably tied to for the rest of his life. She was his. Her temper and passion, her brilliance and wisdom, her loyalty and brutal honesty. All of it. All of her. She would have fought her instincts if she’d know what he’d learn. She would have fought her wolf, who she was, to keep her secrets.

The only sound was the drip of blood on the laminate table. With a sigh of pure frustration, he wound a linen napkin around his hand and sat back in his chair.

“I like her,” he argued. Like wasn’t the right word. If he had it his way, they’d created a whole new dictionary of words for their alternative lifestyle. None of his words—human words—seemed to do this life or these emotions justice.

Her eyes narrowed.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke softly, his throat tight.

“Get used to saying that,” Mal whispered. “A lot.”

Ellen was studying him. Intently. His face. His eyes. His mouth. They lingered. Her teeth sinking into her lower lip and driving all his blood south. “I’m done eating.” Her voice was husky. “Are we going to play in your lab today?”

He’d play with her anywhere she wanted.

“If you change your mind, we’re one phone call away,” Olivia said, waving her phone.

“Here.” Mal grabbed his hand and shoved a box into it. “Biggest box I could find.”

He frowned, staring at the box. Condoms.