She was no coward. “Hollis,” she murmured. Her wolf paced, curious. His wolf reacted—instantly gaining Hollis’s attention.
He stood, spinning to see her. “What? What’s wrong?”
Knowing their wolves were already working together made her smile. She stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “Let me in,” she said against his lips.
He pulled back, a furrow forming between his brows. “There’s no reason to put yourself through it—”
“There is. I feel it.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “I can’t ignore it.” Her brows rose. “Mate or no, don’t try to shelter me from something that needs to be done.”
“It needs to be done?”
She nodded.
“I can bring things out. It might be easier?” he asked, still concerned.
It was an option. One her wolf quickly dismissed. She refused to be intimidated, she was, after all, a fearsome beast. “What harm can come from a room full of things?” She headed to the door, waited for him to open it, and tried to shake off the sharp tingles brushing her skin.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his fingers on the keypad.
No, she had doubts. But her wolf would not be deterred. She nodded.
He unlocked the metal door and pushed it wide.
This time she was prepared. Leaning heavily against the concrete walls helped her stay upright. The roar of noise and voices greeted her. Loud, yes. But not hostile. There was no threat here. She pushed off the wall and into the room, taking the hand Hollis offered just in case.
“Low lights,” he explained, letting her set the pace. “Some of the documents are photosensitive due to age.”
She nodded, her eyes adjusting to the dim room. Her equilibrium was off, so she stopped, thankful for the strength of his arms around her. She waited, her gaze wandering around the room. A long, low table and several chairs were the only furniture. The rest of the room housed display units, drawers, and cabinets.
One drawer drew all her attention—all her focus. It called to her, knew her. The pressure on her chest increased as she moved toward it. She gripped the drawer handle and pulled it wide.
On a background of black velvet lay the necklace. Her necklace. Her hand shook as she reached for it, caressing the fine, leather cord between her fingers. Her wolf longed to howl, to roar with pleasure—and despair. The voices of her pack crashed into her, the floor tipped, and she fell.
Chapter Sixteen
Hollis caught her, kneeling on the floor with her in his arms. He couldn’t protect her from this, couldn’t defend her—even though his wolf was pushing to do so. He hurt for her, torn and frustrated. But he could hold her close and rock her. Maybe his touch eased her the way hers did him. It was all he could give her. “It’s yours?” he whispered. He knew, deep down, he already knew.
She nodded, cradling the necklace to her chest with both hands.
He leaned back against the cabinet and waited. Whatever time she needed, he would give her. As hard as it was to accept special powers and magic existed in the real world, it made sense that Ellen would possess them. She would never abuse her gifts, she would respect them—take pride in them. As she did in being a wolf.
How it felt or understanding the toll it took on her was something else. After having her life taken so violently from her, having her past destroyed so completely, reminders would be…bittersweet in a way he could never comprehend.
“Where did you get it?” she managed.
“An antique shop in San Francisco.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “The steamer trunk was scavenged after the quake. The lock was broken, sealed shut. But the shopkeeper had some story about the items belonging to witches, so he was too scared to force it open.”
“Witches?” She looked up at him, the expressions flying across her face before he could identify what she was thinking or feeling. “No. We…we were called that sometimes. We were healers.”
“You remember?” he asked, hesitant. Whatever was happening to her was intense. Now wasn’t the time to drill her for answers—no matter how many questions he had.
She shook her heard. “No. Yes. Some.” Her hands tightened around the beads. “It’s been locked away so long.” Her gaze met his. “Some feared us, drove us away.”
“People fear what they don’t understand.”
Fear had influenced him far too much. He’d been so determined to cure Finn and the pack that he hadn’t stopped to consider all of the options this new life could offer. Instead of researching how to adapt and explore their new strengths and talents, he’d focused all his energy on trying to reverse their plight.
But being wolves hadn’t changed who they were. If he was being objective, he would acknowledge that they’d been given an opportunity to be something more—something special. The only thing capable to taking on Cyrus and the Others. For the first time, he questioned whether finding a cure was the answer. And, if it was, how could he cure something that made the woman he loved who she was. What would a cure do to her? And Finn’s children? His stomach clenched hard. If it came down to a choice between curing the pack and losing Ellen, the answer was clear. He buried his nose in her hair and drew in her scent. His wolf approved, wanting to be closer to their mate.