Elizabeth's Wolf (Breeds 3)

“I do love her, Dash.” Jonsey nodded solemnly. “I’ve had a year with her. A year I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t pulled her out of that hospital they bombed. Cindy agrees with me being here. I’m not going back.”

Elizabeth could hear Dash growling in irritation.

He turned to the man beside Jonsey. He was nearly as tall as Dash, with short, spiked brown hair and deep brown eyes. His face was lined with exhaustion and he had obviously had enough of Dash’s temper.

“Don’t you even start on me, Major,” the soldier snapped back. “I’ve not slept in a week to bring my ass out here and I’m not in the mood for your god complex, either. So just tell me where I can sack out for a while and then we’ll discuss your plan of action when I wake up.”

He was snarly. Elizabeth perked up, as did several of Simon’s Ladies. They sauntered from the house, immediately drawing attention. Eyes were bugging out of sockets as the men caught sight of them.

“Hell, Simon’s here,” one of them seemed to sigh in reverence. “Oh man. This is gonna be a good fight.”

“Excuse me, Major. I might have found someone to keep me warm.” The soldier looked damned near ecstatic as one of the Ladies sidled up to him, cooing gently about his weariness.

“Damn you, Chase.” Dash was growling now.

“Give it up, Dash.” Merc, the tall Feline Breed, growled back from the sidelines. “This isn’t just about you anymore, or about your woman. Chill out and accept the help or ease back and we’ll do it ourselves. You’re mated now. Mated to a woman proven to be able to conceive easily with Breed young. We can’t afford to lose you or her.”

Fury ignited in Dash. Elizabeth watched as his head lowered, turning as he stared at the Feline in building fury.

“My woman is not a breeder for the fucking Breeds,” he snarled, his voice low, dangerous.

“She will be if you get your ass killed. Whatever Breed the Council managed to make mount her. Her and that kid. You want to risk it?” Merc was only a bit larger than Dash. If it came to a fight, either man could have come out the winner. “Get a handle on yourself, boy. You never were alone in this world.” He nodded to the soldiers. “And you sure as hell aren’t now. Let’s all get some rest and we’ll see what kind of plan you have in place. And stop growling at me. It’s pissing me off.”

As she watched, Elizabeth was aware of Simon moving up behind her, watching curiously.

“Could get interesting now,” he said softly. “Dash thinks he has to do

everything on his own. Thinks he has to save everyone he takes under his wing. Usually manages to, too. But he doesn’t accept help so well. It will be interesting to see how gracefully he accepts us poking our noses in his business.” Simon sounded like he was looking forward to any fight that arose.

“Fuck,” Dash finally snarled so violently, so furiously, Elizabeth flinched.

He turned away from them and stalked away from the cabin, moving purposely into the woods surrounding it as she moved to follow him.

“Wait.” Simon caught her arm. “Give him a few minutes to work through it first. Let’s get these boys fed and bedded down for a while. They’re a tired bunch. Then you can go after him.”

* * * * *

What the hell had happened? Dash couldn’t understand it for the life of him. He had fought to stay distant from the men he fought with, to do his job, keep their asses alive and go his merry way. If knowledge of what he was had leaked out while he was fighting with them he would have put every man in whatever unit he was in, in danger. The Council didn’t care who they killed. But evidently he hadn’t stayed distant enough. He had over two-dozen fighters standing in the clearing of the cabin awaiting orders. Orders he didn’t want to give. He didn’t want to lead them into his personal battle and have one of them die because of it.

Damn. He sighed wearily. He was pissed as hell, but he knew those men wouldn’t leave. Not unless he did. And they would follow. They were damned good men, too. The best. As good or better than the unit he had lost in Afghanistan.

He stopped his furious trek up the mountain, pausing at a sheltered bench of land that looked down on the cabin. Tents were being pitched and voices were raised as coordination among the men began to establish itself. He knew the minute he saw the first arrivals that this mission had turned into something more than just the fight to save Elizabeth and her child. It was now a fight to establish dominance, to show the Council and those who would strike out against the Breeds in general that there was a bigger battle than they wanted to face.

There was no way Grange could anticipate over two-dozen men moving in on him. Men so adept, so well trained in every area of battle, that he didn’t have a chance of fighting against them.

Finally his lips quirked in amusement. Grange would fight and there was always the chance of losing one or more men in the group. Dash could do nothing but make certain they planned for everything and pray they all got through it alive. It was all he could do.

As he sat there, watching with narrowed eyes as the clearing turned into an armed camp, he watched Elizabeth leave the cabin slowly. Damn. She was like a ray of sunshine. Moving past the soldiers working around her, she headed up the mountain. She was graceful, a creature of such fluid movement and erotic design that it made his loins clench in sudden hunger. How had he ever deserved anything so beautiful to call his own? He couldn’t make sense of it, but he had never wanted to fight it, either. As though he had waited all his life for that moment in the diner, his body had instantly recognized her scent, her dark eyes, her quiet strength.

She was a mate that would fight beside him and would protect her young and him, if needed, against all odds. She had proven that in her determination and quick thinking in saving Cassie. She wouldn’t balk, no matter what was needed.

“Done pouting yet?” She moved to him, watching him in concern as he gripped her wrist and pulled her down between his thighs.

He nestled her back against his chest, wrapping his arms around her, and propped his head on her shoulder as he watched the action below them.

“They’re damned good men,” he said softly. “Good fighters, too.”

“Yeah,” she agreed softly. “They seem to be.”