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

s-hell mate.

“That was some announcement, man.” Mal was laughing.

“Guess that was one way to make it official.” Anders chuckled. “I can see how he swept you right off your feet, huh, Ellen?”

She laughed. Anders had that effect on most people.

“Welcome to the pack,” Finn said, chuckling.

She smiled, glancing at Hollis. His gaze, filled with pride and ownership, swept over her before he looked at the screen.

“I keep no secrets from my pack,” she spoke softly but knew they heard. A wolf’s hearing could pick up the slightest ripple of sound. “If I have not been forthcoming before, it was out of self-preservation. You were not my pack, I owed you nothing. But now, that has changed.”

Hollis’s look was concerned, his brow furrowing deeply. “Are you sure?”

No. Not in the least. But she nodded.

Finn leaned against his desk, preparing. The pack seemed to straighten, their wolves’ senses heightening and pricking up with anticipation.

“You mean we’re finally going to get answers?” Anders asked, leaning forward eagerly.

Ellen appreciated his attempt at levity, but it didn’t ease the weight pressing in on her. This was a way to earn trust from her new pack—and that mattered. She’d never choose to be vulnerable, but she would answer whatever questions they asked of her. “If you have questions,” she said.

“Do we have questions?” Mal laughed. “That’s the understatement of the year.”

“You must know, I have few memories before I was taken by the Others. But I will do my best to answer what I can.” Her hands were clammy, a light sweat broke out on her forehead.

Finn studied her before asking, “You knew Byron was alone. How?”

Not the first question she’d expected. This answer would lead to more questions—questions that would require them to set aside skepticism and force them to accept further changes to their reality.

Hollis had been skeptical of magic. How would the rest of the pack take it? “I call it reading. A sharing of memories and sensations through touch.” She stopped, waiting.

Everyone was staring at her. The book was helping her fill in the holes. Occasionally, new images cropped up, so clear and real she knew they were from her past. As far as she could remember, it was the same. Once her gifts were known, everything changed. Most feared what she could do, thought her a freak. According to the notes in the book, they’d had to flee to avoid prosecution for witchcraft.

“Byron was dead.” Dante’s eyes narrowed.

Ellen glanced at Hollis. “Not long. The spirit lingers…the body holds on to its former state. Especially if the death is violent or unexpected. It’s a shock to the soul as much as the body.”

“That’s freaky shit, Ellen,” Anders sounded off.

“I agree.” Ellen nodded. “It isn’t always a pleasant experience.”

Hollis sat beside her, his thigh pressed against hers. “We’ve been working through the vault. Most of my collection belonged to her original pack. Including a journal. It contains more valuable information than all my years of research has provided.”

“Have you read it yet?” Finn asked Hollis.

“We’ve started. It’s slow going.” Hollis took her hand. “It’s exhausting work. Fucking draining.”

“It’s a record of the wolves.” She shook her head. “Elder scribes maintained it. Our heritage, rites and customs, maps we’ve traveled, and a record of births and deaths.” She glanced at the faces on the screen. “I remember pieces, pulled from the stories read aloud.” She shrugged, awash with memories faded around the edges.

“So your scribes were sort of like Hollis?” Anders asked. “All-knowing and shit? Were they condescending, too?”

Hollis sighed, but the rest were laughing.

She threaded her fingers with his. “They were revered, as he is.” He was looking at her, but she couldn’t look at him. She’d already revealed enough to their audience. What she and Hollis shared was none of their business.

“Maybe if we knew more about our heritage and origin, perhaps things between us and the Others wouldn’t be so tense.” Finn’s gaze was direct.