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

“Here,” he offered, flipped off the projector, and tried not to look at Ellen. If he did, she might sense his wolf. And then what? She wanted Hollis to accept him, to find a way for them to work together. He did, too. For the first time in his life, he wanted to be a wolf—to shift and fight and defend his pack. And his mate.

Self-loathing and frustration threatened to consume him.

His heart murmur prevented his ability to shift, but that wouldn’t prevent him from unleashing his wolf. Could his human form do what his wolf wanted? Glancing at Ellen, he knew the answer. He had no choice. Sitting, curled up in that chair, she was fragile.

He took her hand as they made their way from the Robbins Pharmaceuticals and Research facility and made the drive from the medical research park to their hotel downtown. He was aware of snippets of conversation, places to have dinner, going dancing, the lights and water show along the river. But his mind was crowded and his body strung tight.

When they arrived at the hotel, Ellen yawned.

“Tired?” His gaze set

tled on the tattooed scar by her eye. Where had that come from? Did he dare ask? He swallowed. No. No more questions tonight.

She nodded. “I’ll have a shower and then we can have dinner?”

“Sounds good,” Olivia said, walking with her to the elevators.

“We’ll be up in a minute…getting a drink first,” Mal said, nudging him, hard, in the side. Once the women were on the elevator, Mal turned on him. “You need to chill the fuck out. You’re giving off all sorts of hunting vibes and, as far as I know, that’s not an option for you.”

Hollis glared at him and headed into the bar.

“You’re welcome, by the way. Figured you could let off some steam here and give her a break.” Mal sat on the barstool beside him. “Today had to have been hell for you.” He gestured for the bartender. “Whiskey. Leave the bottle.”

In the beginning, Mal matched him drink for drink. When Mal switched to beer and he ended up drinking alone, he didn’t know. Instead of comfortably numb, he wound up fuming. He knocked back his drink and then slammed the glass onto the counter. Mal stared at him, ever watchful—but blissfully silent.

“Done yet?” Mal asked, eyeing the near-empty bottle on the bar. “I need to pack.”

“Who’s stopping you?” Hollis bit back. “I’m not done getting drunk.”

“Because that solves every damn thing.” Mal sighed.

Hollis scowled. “I’m so goddamn tired of being the one to solve everything.” He couldn’t do a fucking thing about this. Any of it. He stared at the blinking fluorescent beer lights over the mirrored back of the bar. “What fucking good is problem-solving when you’re facing sociopaths? With teeth and claws?”

“I thought you liked being the brains behind the pack.” Mal sipped his beer.

“Maybe I’d like to be the muscle instead. You know, make an actual difference.” He shook his head and pushed himself off the barstool.

Mal followed, his expression dark. Once the elevator doors closed, he said, “I get you’re upset. If Olivia had been through that—”

“Don’t,” he said on a growl. “You can protect Olivia, Mal. I can’t fight with the pack. I can’t protect my fucking mate.” Mal opened his mouth, but Hollis cut him off. “I get she doesn’t need much protection, but it would be nice to know I could—if the need arose.”

Mal kept quiet.

“And the vaccine?” He paced the small space. “The thing that’s going to give us all our lives back. It’s never going to work.”

Mal sighed. “It’s okay, man. I think the only person that hasn’t accepted this is our life is you. I get it, too. But shifting doesn’t make you a wolf. He’s there. You’re the only one that doesn’t get that.”

It was like he’d been punched in the gut. His wolf was there, waiting for his place in the pack. Hollis kept pushing him aside, pretending he wasn’t there—out of fear. But turning into a wolf was nothing compared to the fear of losing Ellen. Whatever Ellen and his pack needed, he’d do it. Facing Cyrus would be a hell of a lot easier if his wolf was with him.

…

Ellen sat in the tub, her knees drawn up to her chest. It was done—now they understood what they were up against. There had been no insults or slaps, no punishment for speaking out. No one had laid a hand on her, there had been no torture or rape… They’d listened to her. And believed her. But the telling had been intense, and she was vibrating with barely suppressed anger. It was her favorite emotion. It kept her warm, active, motivated, and alive. Every cut, bite, punch, or minute in the hole had fed her anger, made it stronger—and all-consuming.

And destructive. She’d spent so much time hating Cyrus and the Others, so much time plotting their downfall, she’d stopped believing good existed. But now she had Hollis. He’d changed everything. With him at her side, she had hope. A pack. And, if her wolf was right, so much more. A child.

Her wolf was overjoyed—informing her as they’d wrapped up their teleconference with Finn. While the pack was rallying for a fight, she was fighting for control. How could she fight now?

“Are you sure?” she whispered aloud.