Rescued by the Wolf (Blood Moon Brotherhood)

by Sasha Summers

  Tess unfolded herself from the corner of the couch, nervously glancing his way before hurrying out of the room.

  And still Olivia ignored him.

  He crossed the room, his irritation mounting, and pinned her against the kitchen counter with nowhere to go. “I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t look at him.

  “I didn’t think things through.”

  “You thought it through with Anders.” Her eyes blazed. “You had a plan. You knew exactly what—”

  “I messed up,” he ground out.

  “You lied, Mal.” Her voice broke. “You promised.” She shook her head. “What do I believe now? How do I trust this?”

  His frustration bubbled over. “I’m leaving.”

  “I know.” She pressed a hand to her chest.

  “Dammit,” he pulled her against him. He’d done this to her. “I’ll be back. Soon.”

  “I don’t like this part,” she muttered.

  “What?” He didn’t like the sadness in her voice.

  “Being hurt by you.” Her words sliced through him.

  He pressed his forehead against hers, reeling. No matter what he said, it wouldn’t undo the pain he’d caused them both.

  “Don’t kill him,” she whispered. “Chase.”

  He tilted her head back. “No one’s getting killed.” Her hazel gaze searched his, making the ache in his chest ten times worse. She doubted him now—because of what he’d done. He could see it, could feel it. So he added, “But if it comes down to them or us…”

  She nodded. “He’s a ‘them.’ I know.” She blinked away the tears in her eyes.

  “Olivia…” What could he say?

  “Go.” She tried to shrug out of his hold, to put space between them, but he couldn’t bear it. “You’ve got stuff to do.” Her eyes flashed.

  “Kiss me?” he pleaded, leaning forward.

  The brush of her lips against his wasn’t going to cut it. Only cupping her face, savoring the softness of her mouth, sliding his tongue inside would satisfy. The kiss went on until her posture eased and her hands gripped his shirt, holding on to him—he needed her to hold on to him.

  The rev of the engine was hard to miss. Someone laid on the truck horn.

  She broke away from him. “They’re waiting for you.”

  He nodded, staring long and hard at her before leaving the room and slamming out the front door.

  “Better?” Anders asked as Mal climbed into the truck.

  He pulled the door shut, peering out the window at the empty front porch. No, it wasn’t fucking better. Knowing what he’d done to her? Fuck no. His chest hurt. But worrying about Olivia wouldn’t do any of them any good. He shoved it all down and tuned into the conversation taking place.

  “You want a knife?” Gentry asked. “In case Chase is a threat?”

  Mal shook his head. “It won’t come to that.” He’d given Finn his word, and he’d keep it, no matter what. “Chase isn’t a fighter. If he suspects anything, he’ll run.”

  “How do you know?” Anders asked.

  “When they jumped him, Olivia tried to stop it. He ran—leaving her.” He bit out the last two words, trying not to think about the state she had been in when they’d met.

  “You shitting me?” Gentry called back from the driver’s seat.

  “No.” Mal’s hands fisted at his side. She was one of them now, the surge of anger and hostility filling the cab of the black SUV confirming it. “She wants him to live.”

  “He’s still her brother.” Dante nodded. “But damn, that’s got to be a hard pill to swallow, knowing everything.”

  “He’s sort of the bad guy here,” Anders reminded them.

  “No,” Mal argued. “Chase is a waste of humanity, but he’s not the prize. Cyrus is. We find out where to find him, how to hunt him—we have an edge. We have surprise.” He didn’t want a pack war any more that Finn did. They might be stronger than the Others, but their numbers couldn’t compare. There was no guarantee Chase would know something to help them with Cyrus, but if they could help those girls—expose the trafficking ring—that was more than enough.

  Dante nodded. “Not that I’m opposed to seeing this Chase kid bleed a little.”

  Mal grinned; he couldn’t help it. “Agreed.”

  ...

  Jessa was in labor. Mal had been driving away when her first cry reached Olivia. For the past thirty minutes, Jessa’s ragged moans and screams spilled down the hallway. Olivia was helpless—and useless. Hollis and Ellen were with Jessa. Finn was with her.

  At Finn’s request, Brown was in the control room, tracking Mal’s group while staying close to Tess—Brown was never far from his daughter.

  Tess hadn’t moved. She sat, staring down the hall, at Jessa’s room.

  “She’ll be okay,” Olivia said to her. She talked to the woman all the time, unable to pretend she wasn’t there. She was a living, breathing person, even if she didn’t necessarily act like it. “She’s strong. Ellen and Hollis know what they’re doing.” Maybe Hollis didn’t, but Ellen did. At least she acted like it.

  An especially loud cry echoed down the hall. Olivia winced, gripping the kitchen towel in both hands. Poor Jessa. Poor Finn. She hurt for them.

  Pain was a part of a normal childbirth. This wasn’t normal. She wished Mal were here. Even with her mad at him, he’d ease the anxiety in her gut.

  Oscar was playing on his mat on the floor, content and clueless. She joined him, needing a happy distraction. “How’s your day going? You look pleased with yourself.” She held one of his little fists in each of her hands. “Yep, you’re getting stronger every day.”

  Oscar cooed, loudly, startling himself.

  “That was all you, big guy.” She laughed. How could holding something so small make everything feel better? She lifted Oscar and sat back, bracing him on her knees. He pushed his legs straight and flailed his arms in excitement. “I know. You are adorable.”

  Oscar squealed, his smile full or bubbles and gurgles.

  She shook her head. “You don’t say?” She ran her hand over his head, smoothing the blond curls. “Want to read a book? I have this amazing one that counts to five.” She picked up the padded red, white, and black illustrated book, and Oscar’s gaze focused. “Riveting stuff, right?”

  She flipped the pages, watching his animated expressions as his bright blue eyes narrowed then drooped. She hadn’t realized she’d drifted off until a shrill beep flooded the room. Her arms tightened around Oscar’s sleeping form, senses immediately on alert.

  It beeped again.

  “Fire alarm?” she asked, holding Oscar close as she stood.

  Jessa’s door opened, and Hollis emerged. “What’s up?”

  “I don’t know.” She bounced Oscar on her hip. “Oscar and I were chilling out with Tess—”

  Tess was gone. Olivia spun, searching the corners for the woman’s favorite spots. No sign of her.

  The alarm beeped, setting her nerves on edge.

  “Brown?” Hollis asked.

  She shook her head, foreboding crushing in on her. “Still in the control room?” Something was wrong. Her wolf was pushing, eager to come out.

  Another beep.

  Hollis ran down the other hall, past the gym to the control room. Olivia waited, staring after him. When Hollis came back, her fears were confirmed. “No Brown.”

  “Jessa?” Olivia asked.

  “She’s close.” He ran a hand over his face.

  “I’ll find him. Tess was freaking out over Jessa. He’s probably calming her down.” It was a logical explanation. But her wolf didn’t believe a word of it. “Or maybe she got scared and ran, and Brown followed her.” Another possibility her wolf dismissed.

  Finn came stomping down the hall, wild-eyed and tense. “What’s happening?”

  “Tess is gone. Brown isn’t in the control room,” she said calmly.

  Finn stiffened, bracing. “Call Mal back,” he told Hollis.

  “Wait,�
�� Olivia said, knowing how important their mission was. “Give me five minutes to find them.”

  Finn’s eyes narrowed. “What does your wolf say, Olivia?”

  She frowned. “Something’s not right.”

  Finn nodded. “Call them back.” Hollis headed again to the control room.

  “Let me do something, Finn. You kept me here for a reason. Don’t tell me it was to babysit while the others are protecting the pack.” She swallowed. “I need to do something.”

  Finn rolled his neck. “Track them—at a distance. I mean it, Olivia, stay upwind and out of sight. When you find them, head straight back to report.”

  She nodded, her wolf thrilled.

  “At a distance. If something is wrong, you get back here.” Finn’s brows rose high. “No taking chances, you hear me?”

  “I hear you.” She nodded. “Oscar?”

  Finn took the baby. “Be safe Olivia, or Mal will rip my goddamn head off.” He headed back down the hall to Jessa.

  She ran from the house. Her skin was aching, the pull and push of bones and muscles making her itch. Whatever was happening, her wolf demanded control. Olivia breathed through it, relaxing her mind and body. It hurt, but not the way she imagined it would. She had to push to find the relief on the other side. When her claws sliced through her knuckles and her skin gave way to fur, the shift was over.

  Her wolf was running, pausing to sniff and search. Her ears perked up, shifting through the sounds of the forest for something else—some sign of Brown or Tess. But she was too agitated, her senses all over the place.

  She let instinct take over. Through the forest. Over two mountains. Up high, in the snow.

  Her wolf found Brown’s scent. Sour. Stressed. Musky. He was running hard.

  Tess’s scent joined his now.

  Olivia slowed, not wanting to intrude on father and daughter. At the same time, she couldn’t leave without knowing they were okay. Why had he left his post? Why had they run off—now, when Jessa was so vulnerable.

  She passed through a ravine, ears alert, and paused.

  Brown sat in the snow several feet from Tess. Tess’s wolf sat, uneasy, at his side. Olivia’s wolf moved into the trees, watching.

  Her heart ached for Brown. He’d never give up on his daughter. He didn’t care that she was a wolf, or that her human form was utterly broken. The man was loyal and patient. Whatever had brought her out here, he seemed content to wait until she decided it was time to return to the lodge. He loved his daughter.

  An image of her father popped up. He’d had the biggest laugh. People loved him; he had a sort of magnetic pull that made them want his approval. She’d always had it. Chase always tried. It was hard to reconcile that man, her father, with what she now knew of him. For all his charm and affluence, she would trade her memories of him for one moment with a father like Brown. To sit in silence, knowing he was there for her—no judgment, just love. Did Tess know how lucky she was? Did she know she had a second chance here, a chance at a good life?

  Brown looked at his daughter, speaking to her softly—too soft for Olivia to hear.

  Tess’s wolf’s ears dropped, her tail wagged, but she didn’t move.

  Brown smiled.

  Olivia’s wolf tensed. A new scent. New but familiar. And terrifying. And a ripple in the air so strong, her wolf pressed down under the trees. Memories and fear crowded in on her. Of punching Chase, being stabbed, and getting thrown in the back of a van. This scent belonged to the creature responsible for that. Which was nothing when compared with what he’d done to Mal—tearing his throat out. Skinning him.

  Fury choked out fear. Her wolf coiled, aching to pounce—to attack. Byron was here, somewhere.

  Tess perked up, her eyes focusing on a distant point. She stood, ears pivoting, then looked directly at Olivia.

  She knew? She knew they were coming. And she’d led Brown here.

  Two more distinct scents reached her. Scents she didn’t recognize rapidly approached, coming through the ravine at her back. Others.

  Something cold and hard was pressed against her head. “Shift or he bleeds out on the snow.”

  Olivia’s wolf fought her, wanting to run or howl. She glared up at the man, ignoring the gun he pressed against her skull.

  “Now,” he repeated, smiling.

  She did, and her wolf fought her the entire time. Her lungs ached, gasping for air when he grabbed her by the hair and yanked her to her feet. Her wolf fought to be free, aching to protect her—and go for the jugular.

  “Damn shame,” the man said. “Boss claimed you.”

  Olivia was still recovering from the shift and couldn’t speak. Cyrus had claimed her?

  “Come on,” the other one said, far less interested in her. “The sooner we get this over with, the better. Even if we don’t get the other female, we have her.”

  Olivia tripped over her own feet, the man’s hold punishing her scalp and dragging her behind him. Why were they here? What did they want?

  “Shit.” Brown stood, his hand going to his waist.

  “Nope.” The man holding Olivia pointed the gun at her.

  “You were supposed to come alone,” the other man said to Tess.

  Tess cowered, her eyes shifting to the ground.

  “They’re coming,” Olivia said, looking at Brown. “Finn. His pack.”

  “No one’s coming.” The man yanked her hair for good measure.

  The other one sighed. “You mark her, he’s gonna be pissed.”

  The man smiled at her. “He won’t care.”

  “He will.” It was Byron—big, tall, and emerging from the trees like nothing out of the ordinary was taking place. “Mr. Brown, you were not supposed to be here. I apologize for this. Give it to me, Jake.”

  Jake handed Byron the gun.

  “Silencer,” Byron added.

  Jake frowned. “Why do we—”

  “No backup,” Byron ground out. “You shoot, you announce our presence.”

  Jake rifled through his backpack, handing the silencer to Bryon.

  Panic clamped down on Olivia’s throat. Byron wouldn’t need a silencer if he wasn’t going to use the gun. The air grew charged, crackling with anticipation.

  Tess whimpered then, stepping between the two men. She glanced back at Brown, her whimpering more desperate.

  “He can’t follow us.” Byron’s voice was sharp. He fired once, and Brown crumpled to the ground. “You’ve outlived your usefulness.” He fired again, and Tess collapsed, flopping to the snow. His gaze shifted to her. “We have you. Once we have the Alpha’s mate and his pups, Cyrus will see how much he underestimated us. We get them all, and he’ll welcome us back.”

  Had Tess brought them here to lead them to the compound—for Jessa and the children? Olivia stared, horrified, as the snow beneath her bare feet turned a brilliant red.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Something tripped the alarm.” Hollis’s voice crackled in Mal’s earpiece.

  “Turn around,” he barked.

  Gentry did, not bothering to slow his speed.

  “Brown’s take?” Mal asked.

  “We don’t know where he is,” Hollis answered. “Or Tess. Jessa’s in labor,” he continued. “So Olivia’s gone after them.”

  “Did Tess know Jessa was in labor?” Mal’s gut tightened. Tess was the plant. Not Ellen. Tess—too wounded to be suspect. Fucking idiot.

  Hollis paused. “Yes.”

  “Headed back,” Mal said. “Put down the blast doors, seal everything up. This is not a fucking drill. They know where we are, and they are coming.”

  There was silence.

  “Tess?” Hollis’s surprise was almost funny. Almost.

  “Now, Hollis,” Mal snapped. “We’re fucking idiots.”

  “Floor it,” Dante bit out.

  “You really think they’re coming?” Anders asked.

  “They want the baby. Hell, Jessa, the baby, Oscar, and Ellen, too. Jessa’s in labor—they’re vul
nerable.” Mal shook his head, his stomach turning to lead. “If Cyrus is as obsessed with breeding the pack as Ellen says he is…”

  “Jessa’s like a magic decoder ring,” Anders finished. “Shit. Drive man. Drive.”

  Mal shut the world out. His wolf wanted blood, and Mal wasn’t going to hold him back. As soon as the SUV slammed to a stop, he jumped out. “Big guns. Lots of silver,” he yelled at Gentry. “Be ready.”

  He started running, shifting as he went. His wolf sped up, flying across the ground. Anders and Dante were close behind, feeling the need to hunt.

  His wolf scented Olivia immediately, drawing her in as he tore across the ground. There was no time to waste—

  A gun shot—muffled but distinct—echoed in the trees. Then another.

  He almost stumbled, his heart coming to an abrupt halt. It wasn’t Olivia. He’d know if it were. She was strong and alive and full of fight. She needed him, and he wasn’t going to let her down. His wolf focused on fury. His vision faded to red, the thud of his heart pulsing heavily in his ears, his nose sorting through the earth and must of the forest. Focus, not fear, would keep him moving—and strong.

  The scent of the Others forced a shudder down his spine.

  One Other in particular. Byron the butcher. His wolf snapped his jaws, craving the fight. Not yet, not yet. He slowed, exchanged a look with Anders and Dante, and headed through the ravine. They moved on silent feet, alert and ready. His wolf did his best to sneak up, find an angle, look for a weakness—but all he could think about was getting to Olivia.

  Blood, so much blood. His nostrils burned from the metallic tang in the air.

  Byron liked to make his victims bleed.

  His wolf tensed, ready to spring, but Mal reined him in again. A quick glance told him Byron wasn’t alone.

  He didn’t recognize them—two nameless Other drones doing Cyrus’s bidding.

  Olivia. Naked. Shivering. Her hair gripped tight by one of the men. Mal’s wolf would take great pleasure in removing that hand.

  Anders nudged his haunch, forcing Mal to focus.

  Byron held a gun in his hand. And, fuck, Brown lay on the ground in a pool of blood. Tess lay beside him.

  “She said they were coming,” the one holding Olivia said.

  “Of course she did. Let go of her before you damage her.” Byron smiled at Olivia. “What else can she say?”