Protecting the Wolf's Mate (Blood Moon Brotherhood)

by Sasha Summers

  “She’s acting weird,” Dante agreed. “Not that I like her bitchy sarcasm but this…” He shook his head. “Guess she was friends with them.”

  Hollis thought about her reaction to Byron’s body. Her fury and tension and fear. Whatever he’d been to her, it wasn’t a friend.

  “Byron wasn’t the type to have friends,” Mal said, staring after Ellen.

  “Whatever. He’s dead. Sort of wish you’d waited to kill him so we could have grilled him.” Dante pushed open the passenger door.

  “Next time I’ll try to remember that,” Mal snapped, slamming the driver door behind him. “Dumbass.”

  Dante was still laughing when he pulled open the front door of the lodge. The scent of marinara and garlic greeted them. And burning wood. The dull roar of conversation. Followed by a terrified scream.

  Chapter Four

  Energy hummed in her veins, pure, sweet anticipation tensing her muscles. It was always like this, before a fight. She hoped there would be a fight. Her wolf needed one. Bloody and violent—a challenge they could sink their teeth into. It had been too long.

  Byron’s memories had confirmed what she’d already known—that there was a traitor under Finn’s roof. And it was the poor, pathetic, wide-eyed innocent that no one, no one, would ever suspect. Tess played the victim well. And if she left it to the pack, Tess’s blue-eyes and pitiful act would cause doubt. Or worse, they’d think she was using Tess as a way to hide her actions.

  Brown, Tess’s father had served as Finn’s head of security for years, hoping he’d have the chance to bring his daughter home. When he had, when he’d finally “rescued” her, she’d not only turned on him, but also on the pack the man considered family. Mal had stopped Byron’s attack before it got out of hand, but not before Brown had been shot.

  Now he lay, fighting for his life, with his darling daughter at his bedside. And it turned Ellen’s blood cold. Daughter or not, she was an Other first—Cyrus would have made sure of that before sending her out on missions for him. An Other that would undoubtedly try to frame her as the traitor, if Ellen didn’t move swiftly. Proof or not, she would expose the traitor in Finn’s pack. And, with all the pent-up frustrations and hostilities today had stirred up, she would greatly enjoy doing so.

  She didn’t stop to check in with Finn or Jessa, not yet. Not until she knew Brown was safe. He might have been human, but he was a good man. He understood the value of things like loyalty, family, and trust. Everything he did was for one of those reasons. The poor man had no idea what his daughter had become. If she had it her way, he never would.

  Getting rid of Tess was the only way to stop her from being a threat.

  But that was Finn’s decision, as Alpha, not hers. All she could do was expose the truth, leaving no room for misinterpretation or doubt.

  She closed Brown’s door behind her and paused. Brown’s heartbeat. Though pale, there was fight in the man, she could sense it. Maybe the girl still cared for her father? Not that it mattered. She’d lost the right to sympathy and reprieve the moment she endangered Finn and his pack. No, more than that, the survival of their very species. “You haven’t killed him?”

  Tess stared at her, wary—but not quite fearful.

  Oh, but you should be afraid.

  “You were one of his pets, weren’t you?” Her voice was calm, triggering no alarm. “One of his playthings. It hurt to lose his favor, didn’t it? Cyrus, I mean?”

  Tess was a pretty thing. Blonde, pale, weak in the way men seemed to find so appealing. Use the urge to protect and claim to your benefit, that’s what Cyrus said.

  Ellen had never been any good at it. She needed no man to protect her. And, if she survived killing Cyrus, she would be the one to do the claiming this time.

  “Tess.” Her smile was toothy, a hunter toying with its prey. “I know what you are. And what you did? That Byron was banished for letting Mal escape and he was desperate to earn his place back at Cyrus’s side. You were going to help him with that, here.”

  Tess paled, then her voice wavered. “Do they know? That you’re a witch?”

  Ellen’s wolf bristled, the insult causing an immediate reaction. Cyrus made sure everyone knew she was different. It was the only way to keep them away from her. It had worked. They avoided her—unless they were torturing her. She shrugged, struggling with her calm. “Am I a witch?” She paused, sniffing the air. The scent was familiar. Decay. Illness. Tess had been shot in the skirmish this morning—along with her poor father. The wound wasn’t fatal. As a wolf she should already be recovering. But not this time. “Maybe. A witch would know you won’t recover from your wounds. A witch would know it will fester and you will die, rotting.”

  Tess pressed her hand to her stomach, her lower lip quivering. “You’re wrong.”

  “No, I’m not.” She rolled her neck, stretching the muscles. “Why do you think he kept me around, Tess? I was useful. He wanted me to cure this sickness weakening his pack. But you know that?” she asked.

  When she angered Cyrus, he’d let the pack on her. But his warning was always the same. Don’t kill her. Once when things had gone too far, she’d almost been bled dry. Cyrus had taken great pleasure in using them as an example.

  Tess tensed, her gaze searching the room.

  “Looking for a weapon? A way to defend yourself? You can’t win, Tess. You will fail. As Byron failed.” Her voice dropped, almost a whisper. “Byron, who bled himself dry on the snow. That happens, when you rip a victim’s throat away. The jugular pulses, beating steadily, pushing the blood out. Causes quite a mess, really.”

  Tess’s nostrils flared. Eyes narrowed, teeth bared—Ellen had hit a nerve.

  “We’ll fight,” Ellen taunted. “After we talk.”

  Tess crossed her arms over her chest. “You wish.”

  “I wasn’t asking.” Ellen smiled. “One way or another, you’re going to answer all my questions.”

  Tess backed up, panic on her face. “They will protect me.” She pointed at the door. “No matter what you say, they won’t believe you over me.”

  Ellen grabbed the girl’s hand. “Will they? Maybe it doesn’t matter.” She gripped one of Tess’s fingers between her thumb and forefinger. “Maybe I need to tear something into pieces?” She paused. “You’re already weak. Sick. Like the rest of the Others. No one here would miss you. Your father is the only one who truly cares about you, and he might not survive what you did to him.”

  Anger, regret, and, finally, fear, registered on Tess’s face. Too little, too late. Tess had made her choice. Now she would suffer the consequences.

  “There’s nothing you could do to stop me. Nothing.” Ellen snapped the finger with ease, pulling a sharp scream from the other woman.

  The thundering of footsteps signaled the pack’s arrival. When the door hit the wall, Ellen turned—still holding Tess’s hand. Hollis was first, taking in the situation with a frown. And Finn, eyes wide and ready, was breathing hard.

  This was her chance. “Tell them the truth. You owe your father that much.”

  Finn was Alpha, he needed to know. If Tess wasn’t willing to speak up, she hoped Finn would let her do what needed to be done to pull the truth from the foolish girl.

  “What’s going on?” Finn’s pale-blue eyes narrowed, as if assessing. “Ellen?” It was a warning.

  One Ellen ignored. “Tess?” Answers were all the mattered. Then Finn would understand, they all would.

  Tess sniffed. Her chin quivered. Poor and pathetic. Cyrus had trained her well.

  Ellen’s patience evaporated. “There are nine more,” she offered. “No, wait, Hollis ask Gentry for his silver knives.” She glanced at Hollis, hoping he would follow her lead. “My weapon of choice. Cyrus and Byron taught you to ensnare and trap, they taught me how to shield and disable. It takes skill to draw out the suffering without too much blood loss. What point is there in proper torture if your captive loses consciousness?” She smiled.

  “Is that necessary?”
Hollis asked.

  She nodded, staring at Finn—needing him to listen.

  Finn’s nod was slight, but enough. “Tess. Is there something you’d like to tell us?”

  Tess burst into tears.

  “Enough,” Ellen snapped. “Where are the tears for your father? He has loved you, looked for you, never gave you up. And you do this to him.” She pointed at Brown, still and silent on his bed. “Finn and this pack welcomed you into their home and still you led Byron here knowing what he wanted.” She paused. “Look at your father, Tess. Look at him. Will you cry if he doesn’t wake up?”

  “He is strong—”

  “He is human,” Ellen reminded her. “Humans are more breakable, more vulnerable. They die from things like being shot. And if he dies, you are to blame. Know that.” She shook her head. “Just as you are dying, too. It started the day Cyrus turned you. Your time is close, Tess, so choose to die with honor. Tell them the truth.”

  “Your version of the truth.” Tess stared at her with pure hatred. “You’re trying to scare me.”

  Ellen ignored her, and the flare of pity she felt. Tess was an Other, conditioned to be at Cyrus’s beck and call. What she’d done today had put them all in jeopardy. She had to remember that—remember Tess deserved no sympathy.

  “What happened, Tess?” Finn asked.

  Tess sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. She was so young. Pretty, even. But she’d been tainted by her time with the Others.

  Tess’s pale gaze locked with Finn’s, then fell, her cheeks flaming red. “H-he wasn’t supposed to follow me,” Tess whispered. “He was supposed to stay here. Byron said he’d be safe.”

  “Safe?” Anger rolled off of Finn. “You honestly think your father would stand by and let Byron take my family? Or you? Jesus Christ, Tess, I know you’ve been with those motherfuckers for a long time but come on.” He shook his head, his eyes flashing. “Byron would have killed everyone who stood in his way. Including you.”

  Tess sobbed then, shaking her head. “He loved me. He would never—”

  “Love? You were his mate?” Ellen asked, wishing she could pity the woman.

  Tess sniffed, anger flashing in her eyes. “No.” Her gaze darted between Hollis and Finn “But he’d said we were meant to be—”

  “You’re more stupid than I thought if you believe that. Did it make it easier to betray them, thinking he’d make you his mate?” Ellen stood back, her grip tightening on Tess’s hand. “You were an Other long enough to know the pack. You know what they would do with the children. And Jessa? The woman who’s been so kind to you. Think of what they would do to her…” She glanced at the door, hoping Jessa wasn’t among them.

  “In bed,” Hollis assured her.

  “Tell them,” Ellen prodded.

  Tess shook her head.

  “No?” She frowned “The children would have been studied—possibly dissected for their blood. Cyrus wants the cure.” She stepped closer, their faces inches apart. “And Jessa? If he can’t cure the sickness, he’ll breed new wolves. But he’ll never get her pregnant, I can assure you. And once he knows that, he’d give her to the pack. You’ve seen what they do, Tess, how the women scream and fight. Not that it helps? No, it only adds to the pack’s excitement.”

  Tess kept shaking her head, tears streaming down her face. “They wouldn’t—”

  “Why not?” she asked. “Because Byron told you he wouldn’t? Byron isn’t the Alpha, is he?”

  Tess stared at the floor, her hands clenched at her sides.

  “You believe what you want to believe, Tess, to ease your guilt. What happens to Jessa when she’s no longer of any use?” She growled, her wolf longing to tear free. “And so would you, if you go back—a fate you have earned. She and Finn’s children. This pack. Your father. If Cyrus has his way, none of them would survive.” Ellen waited, willing to let Finn take over. But one look at the Alpha told her he was battling for control. “Let her go. She wants them, deserves them.” She straightened, meeting Finn’s gaze. “Let me take her back to the Others. She can die at their hands or slowly, painfully, from their sickness. Either way, she is no concern of yours. Or a threat to your pack.”

  “Hold on,” Hollis finally spoke, his words harsh. “No one is going back.”

  “Not yet.” Finn’s command rolled over her.

  Oddly, her wolf listened. She, however, refused. “I am not your pack.” Her fight wasn’t with Finn or his pack. But she wasn’t about to let him—anyone—force her into anything.

  “No. You’re not. But you’re not an Other.” Finn shook his head, his irritation coloring each word. “Right now, all I can think about is tearing her head off.” He looked at Tess with pure rage. “No one is going anywhere or doing a damn thing until we all calm the fuck down.” He cleared his throat. “How did you do it? Communicate with him?”

  Tess bit her lower lip, uncertain. “He’s dead now—”

  “Then it shouldn’t matter,” Ellen bit back, her blood reaching a higher temperature. “Who? Who else?”

  Tess pressed her lips together.

  “I’ll get the silver knives,” Hollis offered.

  “Fine,” Finn sounded off, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Hollis headed from the room, looking grim.

  Ellen pushed Tess into the corner before tearing the room apart. The room was mostly bare —only her bed, her father’s bed, and a small bookcase. She tipped the bookcase, flipping through each novel, running her hands along the lip of each shelf, then turning the whole thing upside down. Nothing.

  One glance at Tess told her the woman was keeping her vow of silence. Ellen attacked the bed with a vengeance. The mattress, the sheets, feathers rained down all over the bedroom floor.

  Hollis returned and joined in, standing the box springs up and shaking it. “Something’s inside.” He felt along the seams, found a clean cut hidden by the fabric piping, and shoved his hand inside. He pulled out a slim cell phone.

  “Who else?” Ellen asked. Whoever it was, Byron didn’t know. She’d been keeping secrets.

  “No one,” she muttered.

  “Then why not just tell us about the phone?” Finn’s tone revealed he was rapidly losing his patience. “I don’t have time for your fucking games, Tess.”

  “No one.” She glared at him. “I kept it…in case he told someone where I was. In case they tried to rescue me.”

  “Rescue you?” Hollis repeated.

  “She doesn’t know any better.” She almost felt sorry for her then. Almost.

  “I know who my pack is. I know what loyalty means,” Tess argued. “You have nothing! Nothing.” Her face grew a mottled red.

  There was a ring of truth to her words. Ellen had nothing. “I have nothing to lose.” Her smile was back, a hard, evil smile full of threat. “There’s more, isn’t there? What else was Cyrus after?” If Byron was trying to earn his way back into Cyrus’s good graces, he would have told her everything.

  Finn unrolled Gentry’s knapsack. As an ex-special ops team, Gentry was the only human Ellen understood. The man enjoyed danger, risks, working for the pack. He was, Hollis said, an adrenaline junkie. He got to shoot at bad guys and carry all the latest, fancy weapons. Which meant the knives would be silver and offer a variety of uses. Namely, extracting information from an unwilling wolf.

  “You wouldn’t?” Tess whispered, staring at Finn in shock.

  “He won’t,” Ellen agreed. “I will. Answer me.”

  Tess cleared her throat, glancing nervously around the room. “The bone.”

  Ellen glanced at Hollis, then Finn.

  “And you,” Tess added, her eyes narrowing. “He wants you back, Ellen. He has special plans for you.”

  Ellen smiled at her. “I know he does.” And only she knew the reason why. “Do I use these?” she asked, sliding a knife from the leather strap.

  “No matter what you do to me, you can’t stop him.” Tess pressed herself into the corner of the room, lookin
g around wildly.

  “I look forward to proving you wrong,” Finn said. “For now, we’re done. You’re no longer a guest here, Tess. You’re a prisoner. Until I figure out what to do with you, you’ll stay locked in the storage closet next door. Get it stripped down,” he said to Hollis. “Have Gentry and Mal work out guard rotations.” His pale gaze was hard. “Otherwise, she’s to be escorted at all times.”

  Tess’s threat hung in the air, forcing her from the room—the roll of knives clutched tightly against her chest. Armed or not, she couldn’t hide from Tess’s horrible words. Her wolf was restless, pacing inside. Anxious. Trapped. And there was no way out.

  She paused in the kitchen, the scent of dinner holding no interest.

  “Not hungry?” Hollis asked, nudging her. “Good call. On Tess.”

  She’d done the right thing, nothing more. Still, hearing the warmth in his voice was pleasing. When their gazes locked the most delectable heat traveled down her spine to pool deep inside. Hungry? At that moment, her wolf would happily have Hollis for dessert. Life rolled off of him, vitality and strength and raw masculine energy, stirring something deep inside of her. She was so used to seeing him in slacks and oxfords—an oxford she was currently enjoying—that his tight cotton undershirt was distracting. In the best way. Every muscle was hugged, showcasing just how capable and masculine he was. She couldn’t fight the anticipation she had no right to.

  His puzzled grin unleashed a sudden, fierce, throb between her legs.

  “Starving,” she managed.

  It seemed her wolf had come up with another way to soothe their frustration. And it involved Hollis. It had been so long since she’d craved the touch of a man. But the image of Hollis’s hands on her body was oh so tempting. A temptation she could never give in to.

  …

  Hollis kept his mouth shut through dinner. He didn’t consider himself an exceptionally intuitive person, but even he was aware of the awkward tension saturating the air. It had something to do with Mal—nothing new there—and his mate, Olivia. Apparently, the oversexed lovebirds were having a spat. And the whole pack had to be a part of it.