Rescued by the Wolf

by Sasha Summers

  “I’ll be with you,” he said, still lying on top of her.

  She didn’t open her eyes. “Okay.” She wanted him close, but she suspected his presence wouldn’t make it hurt less.

  “Olivia?” He was worried; she could hear it in his voice.

  She opened her eyes, staring up at him. “Were you sleeping on top of the blankets?” The thick comforter she was covered with was squished between them, effectively pinning her beneath him—and separating them.

  “Thought it would be a good idea.” His hand smoothed the hair from her forehead.

  “Because I might attack you in my sleep?” She frowned. Ellen’s warning worried her more than the pain of the shift. She knew she’d survive that; she’d seen Mal do it. But she’d never be able to live with herself if she hurt someone else.

  “No.” Mal slid off her, sitting at the edge of the bed. “Because I might attack you.”

  She rolled her eyes, sitting up. “You’re hilarious.”

  He stood, running a hand over his face. “I wasn’t trying to be.” He looked at her, the hunger in his eyes making her breathless. “I want you so damn bad. I think about the way you felt, hot and tight around my fingers. How you taste. Watching you come.” His voice was hard, almost angry. He stared at her, his gaze devouring her mouth, his jaw muscle working. “I can’t lose control with you.”

  Olivia’s insides melted. She throbbed, his words pricking sweetly at the end of every single nerve. Memories crashed in of his scent, his mouth, and tongue. She blew out a deep breath, gripping the comforter in both hands. “Why?”

  “I’m trying to be the good guy,” he bit out.

  “Don’t be,” she begged. “Please.”

  His nostrils flared. “Stop.”

  She kicked the blankets aside, her frustration mounting. “Stop?” She tugged Jessa’s borrowed gown into place. “Stop what? Responding? Aching? It’s you. You did this”—she pointed to herself—“to me. You made me crave things I never wanted before. You look at me and kiss me and say things that—Oh God—make me burn. You touch me and it’s all I want. I don’t know how to stop this. Don’t tell me to stop. I don’t want to.”

  “Fuck.” He ran a hand over his face. “Tonight, you need to focus on shifting, that’s all. You’re right—this is my fault. I know better, and I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

  “If you apologize, I will bite you,” she snapped.

  His jaw clenched, his hands flexing at his sides.

  “Tonight. When I’m a wolf…” she clarified, stunned by his reaction. He wanted her to bite him? Not the response she’d expected.

  “Relax. Being angry or upset can make it harder to shift.”

  “Harder? As in more painful?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  She’d try not to be upset if he’d stop looking at her mouth and acting like it was taking 100 percent of his concentration not to toss her onto the bed and do everything she wanted him to do. Of course, she could be reading him wrong, and he was just mad. But she’d seen Mal mad plenty of times, and this was different. Having him look at her that way was amazing, empowering, and frustrating. “Then you stop,” she muttered.

  He frowned. “What?”

  “Looking at me like that.” She hugged herself. “If you’re not going to throw me on the bed and do what we both really, really want”—her voice broke—“you need to stop looking at me like that’s what you want to do.”

  A sharp knock on the door made them both jump. “Get ready,” Finn said.

  Olivia stared at the door then at Mal. He’d recovered. He didn’t look like he wanted to jump her now, he looked worried. She preferred the other. “What do I do? What should I bring?” Her head was spinning now, the reality of what was about to happen slowly sinking in.

  “Nothing,” he said, finally closing the distance between them. “We go to the woods, you shift.”

  “With Finn?” she asked, nervous.

  “Yes.” His tone was hard.

  “And Anders and Dante and Hollis?”

  “Just Finn and I,” he said. “We’ll help you find your footing.”

  “What do I wear?” she asked, tugging her nightgown.

  “Nothing.” His mouth tightened. “You’ll be a wolf.”

  “Right.” She grabbed the hand he offered, hating the fear that settled in the pit of her stomach. She was strong. Mal called her tough. And tonight, for him, she’d prove it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mal kept touching her. She was controlling her breathing, concentrating on remaining calm—and he was falling fucking apart.

  “Where’s Ellen?” He glared at Finn.

  “With Anders and Dante.”

  “She’s free?” he asked, tempted to tell Finn what he knew about Cyrus and Ellen.

  “Yes. They keep a close eye on her.”

  “How will this start?” Olivia asked, shrugging out of his hold to pace.

  Ellen didn’t matter. Not right now. Only Olivia. She was jumpy—he knew how that was. Having instinct take over was a damn disorienting thing.

  “Your senses will sharpen. Like that night at the truck stop.” He followed, just steps behind her. “Louder, clearer, distracting. Reactive.”

  She glanced at him, frowning. “More so?”

  The dig at their earlier conversation left him reeling. He liked her reactive. He liked the sounds she made when she was under him. He bit off a growl.

  His wolf couldn’t wait to meet her wolf. How could he keep tabs on the animal when the animal was in charge? Could his wolf claim her when he was doing his best not to? There was no one to ask—Finn’s mate was human. He could have asked Hollis, but his answer would be theoretical.

  “You okay?” Finn asked, stretching.

  Mal nodded.

  Finn glanced at Olivia, then back at him. “I don’t think I could watch Jessa go through it.”

  “You won’t make her a wolf?” Olivia asked.

  Finn frowned. “We’ve never talked about it. Things have been so fast between us, we tend to focus on each day instead of the future.”

  “After the baby’s here she’ll want to be a wolf.” Olivia peered into the dark. “She’ll want to be with you when the moon is full—when her babies need protecting. I would.”

  Finn nodded. “If that’s what she wants, I will.”

  Olivia smiled at Finn. “You always give her what she wants?”

  Finn’s eyebrow quirked up. “Yes. If I can.”

  “Huh.” Olivia glared at Mal and went back to pacing.

  He’d never been truly mad at Olivia before. But now he swallowed down hot, angry words. “Jessa is his mate,” he muttered.

  “How does that work?” Olivia asked, rubbing her arms. “Not mating, I get that. How did she become your mate?”

  Mal saw the smile on Finn’s face and groaned.

  “I wanted her, she wanted me. My wolf would not let her go.” Finn shrugged. “A life bond. A wolf mates once.”

  Olivia stopped, staring at Finn. “Oh.”

  “She is mine forever. I am hers. By choice.” He shrugged.

  Mal wasn’t prepared for the anguish on Olivia’s face. Anguish, sadness, loss. What was she thinking? What was tearing her insides apart? And how the hell could he make it better?

  The distant howl of a wolf made Olivia jump.

  “It’s the refuge wolves,” Finn explained. “Saying hello.”

  “Wait—we can talk to them?” she asked. “Can our wolves talk to each other?”

  “Sort of,” Mal offered. “Not with words.” His skin tugged, tightening, preparing. He waited, watching Olivia.

  Her eyes were pressed shut, her face tightening.

  “Don’t fight it,” he whispered, stroking her back. “Let it happen.”

  She groaned, falling to the ground at his feet. He crouched, unable to leave her side.

  “You’re playing with fire, Mal.” Finn’s voice was hard. “Give her some space.”

  Mal glare
d at him. “I can handle a few bites.”

  Olivia curled into herself, her muscles rolling under the surface of her soft skin. He winced through the pop of each vertebra, the pop of tendon and bone as her shoulder blades moved forward and her rib cage expanded. Her hands contorted, her feet elongated, and her ears split. She cried out when her flesh gave way, the momentary separation of skin the final stage. Cinnamon-colored fur covered her from tail to paw to the tip of her nose. She sat up, panting, shaking her head—dazed. Her coat was lighter underneath, with brown and red tips. Her build was daintier than the rest of them, but she was still larger than the average timber wolf.

  Finn smiled. “Well done, Olivia.”

  Mal sat there, staring at her. Hazel eyes met his. She was gorgeous, even as a wolf. “You look good, Olivia.” The urge to touch her was overwhelming. But when he reached out his hand, she growled at him.

  He nodded, smiling at her. “You’re a wolf. And you know it.” He stood, his wolf eager for the shift. It rolled over him, the discomfort lessened by years of shifting. With each snap and tug, his wolf took more control. When the wolf was in his place, he jumped up—unsteady on his legs. Until he was nose to nose with Olivia, his wolf was anxious and excited. For the first time since he’d been turned, his exhilaration had nothing to do with the hunt or a fight—and everything to do with being with her.

  She sniffed him, letting him circle her once, watching his every move. When he stood before her, her eyes locked with his. He was in serious trouble. His wolf didn’t give a shit about anything but her. She whimpered once, and he was there, letting her run her nose down his neck, rubbing his head against hers. He groaned, relishing in the feel of her soft fur rubbing along his side. Her nose nuzzled his ear, and Mal’s wolf reciprocated.

  Finn barked, pulling them apart.

  Olivia froze, her ears oscillating wildly while she nervously assessed her surroundings. Processing the thousand tiny sounds that were impossible to pick out in human form could be overwhelming. Little things like the distant snap of a twig, the flap of an owl high overhead, or the snort of a distant elk would be deafening to her.

  But Mal’s wolf was blind to everything but her wolf. The sound of her thundering heart, the uncertain shifting from paw to paw, and her sweet scent flooded him. His wolf groaned in the back of his throat, drawing Olivia’s attention. She moved close, tucking her head under his and huddling close.

  Finn, a massive brown wolf, approached, nudging her shoulder with his nose. He barked, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth, and then he pawed the ground and took off at a run.

  Olivia looked at him, then after Finn, swishing her tail before she ran after their Alpha.

  Mal stared after them, trying not to let his misplaced jealousy of Finn tarnish his relief. He’d known Olivia would make the shift well. Now his only worry was preventing her wolf and his from sealing the bond between them.

  ...

  Being a wolf was amazing. Things she didn’t know before made sense. Her wolf was all energy and enthusiasm, scenting out rabbits and a woodpecker. When Finn or Mal ran, she was faster than them, loving the wind in her fur and the boundless joy that a full-out sprint gave her.

  New sounds crowded in on her, but Finn and Mal were there—showing her there was nothing to fear. Her wolf was free. She was free—and protected.

  And every time Mal brushed up against her, her wolf responded. She nipped his ear, nuzzled his throat, rolled on her back in submission. Olivia was fully aware that this was wanton behavior, even for a wolf. But she couldn’t seem to rein her wolf in. And, honestly, she was having too much fun to really try.

  They ran and ran, covering miles of land. They worked a herd of elk into a frenzy, drank from a mountain stream, and climbed high enough into the mountains to see Finn’s cabin down below. New scents came crashing in, but Mal and Finn didn’t slow, so she stayed with them.

  Until Mal came to a dead stop. His growl was fierce, the fur on his shoulders and neck bristling.

  She wavered between Finn and Mal, scenting the air.

  Three.

  Two carried Finn’s scent, a scent that linked them all.

  One wasn’t. The air didn’t ripple. No anger or fear, just uncertainty—unlike Mal. She circled back to him, frustrated when he tried to push her behind him. Finn’s reprimand-growl didn’t make sense. But when three wolves joined them, she understood. Ellen was with them, and she was just as ready to fight. Her teeth were bared, her ears pitched toward Mal, as she crouched in the snow.

  Her posture made Olivia’s wolf bristle. Her blood roared and her muscles tightened. She wanted to fight this wolf, to show her her place and defend Mal.

  Finn’s howl was a warning Olivia couldn’t ignore. Neither Mal nor Ellen budged.

  Getting Mal out of there was the only way to stop a fight.

  She closed the distance between them, leaning heavily into his side. Her wolf groaned softly, before rubbing her head under his jaw.

  His growling stopped.

  She kept it up, running her nose down one side of his jaw and up the other. He groaned as she buried her snout beneath his ear. She pushed him back, putting all her weight against his chest. He went, one step at a time, until there was enough distance she could relax. Mal’s dark brown eyes glowed in the moonlight, fixed on her. She whimpered then ran away from the pack. Mal followed.

  Whatever aggression Mal felt, Olivia redirected him. After leading him on a chase, she hid, scampering away when he found her. He tackled her, rolling them in the snow that still covered the higher elevation. She felt so peaceful, so at ease, it seemed wrong. Not to her wolf. Her wolf was thrilled. She assured Olivia that this was the way it was supposed to be when they found their mate. And now that they had Mal, she would never be alone.

  Mal was her mate.

  Mal.

  Olivia agreed. She wanted him. Sullen, hotheaded, territorial, and wonderful. He was hers and only hers, and she’d let him know it.

  But the non-impassioned, non-wolf side of her worried about Mal. Did he know she was his mate?

  His wolf did. But, apparently, Mal was just as close-mouthed with his wolf as he was with the rest of the world. If her wolf wasn’t so happy, Olivia might have been discouraged. Instead, she raced Mal down the mountain until they toppled into a heap once more.

  He seemed to like lying on her, as if he was holding her in place. She didn’t mind in the least. They were still curled up, nuzzling, when the sky started to lighten. She yawned, stretched, and followed Mal back to the hollow where they’d started.

  Her wolf was sad to see Mal shift, preferring his wolf. But Olivia stared at him, so hungry for the feel of the man she couldn’t wait to be with him. Mal. Her mate. Her man. Her wolf.

  Through the unexpected pain, she heard Mal whisper, “Don’t fight it.” It was hard to relax, hard to let go. She wanted to be silent and strong, but her wolf didn’t want to shift. Shedding her claws, the rip of fur giving way to skin, the pop of each arm into its socket—everything felt bruised and sore. Movement was impossible, so she lay in the dirt, gasping. “That was horrible.” Her voice was hoarse.

  It was easier the instant he touched her shoulder. “You were amazing.”

  She looked at him, blinking against the rising sun. “I was?”

  He nodded, the ferocity of his gaze chasing away her aches and pains. Her hand sought his, letting him pull her to her feet. She wavered, but he was there. Seeing him now, she knew the wolf was right.

  “Tired?” he asked.

  She shook her head. Sleep was the last thing on her mind. All she could think about was what he’d said before her shift and how he’d treated her as a wolf. He’d had no problem letting her know she was his then. She saw no point in letting him throw those walls back up now.

  “Mal.” Her hand tangled in his thick dark brown hair, pulling his head down to hers.

  He groaned, pressing a hard kiss to her lips.

  “That will wait.” Finn ca
me striding out of the woods, his voice hard and angry. “Mal, I want to speak with you in my office. Five minutes.”

  It was enough to cool her hunger, a little.

  Mal scowled after Finn, then scooped her up, hanging her over his shoulder so she was eye-to-butt with him. “I’m familiar with this view.”

  “Enjoy it,” he said, playfully swatting her rear.

  She hung there, relieved when he went through the back door. Jessa was in the kitchen. She giggled but didn’t stop them.

  “Mal,” she squealed, the sound of the pack’s voices carrying down the hall. Finn and Jessa seeing her naked was one thing. But the rest of the pack? No, thank you.

  He carried her into their room and tossed her onto the bed. She wasn’t sure what she expected to see on his face. Hunger, frustration, even anger—he didn’t like being told what to do. Seeing the shift of uncertainty and worry was unexpected.

  He disappeared into the bathroom before she could say a word. She lay there, listening to the shower, wishing Finn hadn’t found them. Now that he had, there was no guarantee Mal would come back ready to pick up where they’d left things off.

  She sat up, wrapping herself in the quilt at the end of the bed.

  Finn hadn’t been happy. She only hoped he and Mal could find a peaceful way of working through this. Whatever this was.

  She sat on the floor in front of the fire, running her fingers through her snarled hair. A twig was stuck, making her concentrate on the tangle until it was free.

  “Get it?” Mal’s voice startled her.

  She smiled, turning to face him. But whatever comeback she had was forgotten. His shaggy hair was wet, his snug fitting jeans and skin-tight gray T-shirt almost as big a turn-on as seeing him naked. His feet were bare and sexy. Not that she’d ever considered feet sexy before. “I think so,” she murmured.

  “I’ll be back.” He swallowed, his attention riveted on her bare shoulder.

  “I’ll be here.” She only hoped he’d hurry.

  She waited ten minutes before taking a long, hot shower. When he wasn’t there when she finished, she dressed in some of Jessa’s sweats and a large flannel shirt and headed to the kitchen. Her stomach was empty and growling—far too embarrassing to be sexy.