He hadn’t meant to sigh. But he did. And Finn heard his irritation loud and clear.
“She really gets to you?” he asked, a small smile forming on his lips.
“You have no idea,” Hollis ground out.
“I might.” Finn glanced at his daughter.
He shook his head. “Why does everyone automatically assume this is about that?” When he’d had her in his arms, the last thing he’d felt was tenderness. He’d wanted her. Craved her. Needed to dominate her. All firsts for him.
“It’s not?” Finn frowned.
“If you want me to take her with me, I will.” He didn’t want to talk about this with Finn. Closing things off, shutting things out, he could do that.
Finn’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I do.”
Hollis ran a hand through his hair and tried like hell not to reveal his frustration. “Is this some sort of test?”
Finn’s brows rose. “Hell no. If you really can’t handle taking her—”
“Fine,” he pushed the word out. Handle her? Unlikely.
Finn’s slow nod only irritated him more. “I’ll tell Mal and Olivia and make sure the plane is ready in the morning. How long will you be gone?”
“Two nights. No more than three.” Between Mal and Olivia’s regular display of affection and the way he was still burning for Ellen, two would definitely be better.
Finn chuckled. “I’ve known you for a hell of a long time, Hollis. This isn’t something you’re going to be able to get a hold of. Believe me, I tried.” He smiled. “I get where you’re coming from. Life is complicated enough as it is. And Ellen isn’t what you’d call an uncomplicated woman.” He shifted his daughter to his other arm. “But you don’t have a choice here. You want to keep her close and protect her because, for whatever reason, she’s special…and necessary. Fighting it won’t stop it from happening. If your wolf has chosen, you will, too.”
It didn’t help to hear Finn describe exactly how he felt about Ellen. When or how or why she was necessary, he didn’t know. But, dammit, it couldn’t be like that—couldn’t happen. “I don’t have a fucking wolf,” he reminded Finn. “No wolf. No mate. None of that applies to me.” He leveled a long, cold glare at his Alpha.
But Finn just kept right on laughing.
…
She waited until the house was quiet before venturing out of her room. Nerves frayed, back-up, and in a pissy mood, she wasn’t up for company. And punching one of the pack in the face wasn’t likely to improve their feelings about her. But she was starving enough to risk a run-in. As long as Hollis was nowhere to be seen, she’d be fine.
The log in the fire popped, causing her to jump. “Shit,” she hissed.
Hollis shouldn’t have followed her. His touch had left her more agitated than ever. And his response had been completely unexpected. Now that his desire for her was no longer in question, Ellen had no idea what to do about it. Her wolf, on the other hand, did. In the seconds they’d been tangled together, his wolf had made its presence known. The yearning to breed had her skin flushed and tingling.
“I thought you’d get hungry.” Jessa’s voice startled her.
Ellen turned to find the Alpha’s mate nursing her tiny daughter before the fire. Another reminder of what her wolf wanted. To mate and breed. The urge clamped down on her heart, cold awareness slicing through her body. No.
Diana’s small hand pressed against Jessa’s skin. Soft and helpless.
The wolf’s instant yes slammed into her. For the first time in her existence, her wolf was going to fight her.
“Sorry if I scared you.” Jessa grinned. “Diana was fussy, so I thought I’d bring her out here. Give Finn a chance to sleep. He and Oscar were up late.” She pointed. “There’s food in the microwave. Anders cooked. What would we do without Anders?”
She tore her gaze from Jessa and Diana. This was ridiculous. As if Hollis was willing to take her to bed. He wanted her, but the man had the self-control of a monk. Even if he did suffer a moment of weakness and take her to bed, would a bond form? And, if it did, that didn’t guarantee a child. Hollis hated this life too much to bring a child into the world. She knew him too well to pretend otherwise.
A child? Where the hell had that come from?
But the idea took root. And, damn it all, the idea was tempting. Her hands were so tightly fisted that her nails bit into her palms.
“It’s really good.” Jessa encouraged. “You should eat.”
Ellen opened the microwave, her stomach growling at the aroma or chicken, onions, and herbs. “Pie?”
“Chicken potpie. The man has a gift with comfort food. I need to start exercising or I’ll be the size of a house in no time.” Jessa cradled Diana against her shoulder and patted her tiny back. “You okay? Finn said there was a bit of a disagreement and that you were probably upset.”
She’d rather talk about Finn than think about Hollis. It was easier that way. Anger was always easier. “Why should I be upset? We had an agreement and he’s now breaking it.” She turned on the microwave. “To him, our disagreement was over nothing at all.”
“What agreement?” Jessa asked.
“I stayed to help you, Jessa. You no longer need that help.” Her gaze wandered to Diana. She should not feel so connected to this child. Or Oscar. Or Jessa, for that matter. They were nothing to her. And she was nothing to them. “I should have left long before now. It would have been easier for all of us.” Then she wouldn’t be craving babies. Babies with Hollis. Her wolf had officially lost its mind.
“You want to leave?” Ellen hadn’t expected the other woman’s sadness. “But you’ve a home here. And a pack.”
Jessa’s words plucked at her heart, attempting to draw her in. But the will of one could not make her part of this pack. “A pack doesn’t work that way.” She pulled her piping hot dinner from the microwave and sat at the long counter. “If you’re not born, bred, or bitten into a pack, you are not part of that pack.”
Was that why her wolf was so determined to have Hollis? She was looking for a solid tie to this family? Whether she was part of the pack or not, she would fight to protect it. And they would need protecting.
Cyrus had made sure the Others knew what he wanted, and that he’d reward anyone who helped him get them.
Jessa.
The children.
The bone that caused the transformation and started this pack. Cyrus believed the bone was the reason Finn and his pack were stronger, bigger, and able to reproduce. He believed it was the key to their species.
Ellen worried he might be right.
Cyrus must never have it. She could tell Finn. Or Hollis. Her wolf urged her to.
Jessa situated Diana on her breast before continuing with their conversation. “Where will you go? You saved me—went against Cyrus’s orders to keep me safe.” She pressed her eyes shut. “I saw what he did to you, Ellen. It almost killed you. And then, Mal…” She shuddered. “He enjoys violence, you know it. I know it. Please. You can’t go back to that.”
Jessa’s plea tugged at her heart.
Her wolf perked up, recognizing the footsteps before the man actually entered the room. Hollis. Finn followed, but her wolf didn’t care in the least. She was too preoccupied with Hollis, mesmerized by his mussed copper hair and flashing green eyes. Stupid animal.
“Agreed.” Hollis’s voice was firm.
Her irritation bubbled up. Instead of attacking him physically, she assaulted him verbally. “You agree?” Ellen shook her head. “Your sole purpose is wiping out my kind. I’m giving you one less to wipe out—one way or the other.”
A broken cry came from Jessa.
Hollis took two steps closer, then stopped. “Dammit, Ellen—”
“What will you do, Hollis, if you find your cure? What happens to me? To Oscar and Diana? We were not made. We were born this way—formed this way. This infection was woven into our DNA at the point of creation. What effects will your cure have on us?”
“I ca
n’t answer that.” Hollis stared at her, his eye violently twitching.
Good, he should be upset. She was upset.
“But still you push forward.” She shook her head. “You know much about science and nothing about magic.”
Hollis eyes narrowed. “This is magical to you? Losing control? Becoming something other than yourself?” He crossed the room, coming closer. She could hear the rapid thump of his heart in his chest. “Taking life? Running from those who would happily torture and kill?”
“Wolf or not, that is life.” She stood, coming to stand inches from him. His scent was pure heaven. His jaw locked, the slight flare of his nostrils and the constriction of his pupils mesmerizing. “At least we are equipped to handle it.” Her words ended on a growl. Oh, how she adored this Hollis. Fired up and passionate. Throbbing with life. The promise of his wolf was there, just beneath the surface.
His eyes narrowed, the twitch returning with a vengeance.
She wanted to meet his wolf. If she kept pushing, would she pull him out—angry and glorious and ready to fight? She shook her head. “I would rather face Cyrus than die from your cure.”
Hollis growled.
“Since we have no cure, this debate seems premature.” Finn’s calm declaration sliced through the mounting tension in the room.
Hollis’s gaze studied her mouth, the slight quiver of his nostrils sending a white-hot jolt along her spine. He stepped back, running a hand through his tousled hair.
Ellen blew out a long, slow breath, her agitated nerves refusing to calm.
“She asleep?” Finn’s whisper was pure adoration. “Ready for bed?”
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Jessa answered.
“You weren’t beside me. Of course, I woke up.” There was no denying the man loved his woman. “Besides, I needed to firm some things up with Hollis.”
“Oh?” Jessa asked.
“I’m going on a trip tomorrow.” Hollis’s words earned her full attention.
“Where?” Ellen hated how quickly the word slipped out. He should go. Distance would do them both some good.
His eyes narrowed. “The pharmaceutical company I run: RPR. In San Antonio.” He paused, swallowing. “You’d be impressed by the facility. And the equipment. Only the best.”
“You’re telling me this why?” she asked, turning to face Finn. “Am I going with him?”
Finn nodded.
“You think sending me off with Hollis will change my mind about leaving? You are not my Alpha, Finn, and this is not my pack.”
Finn’s expression hardened. “It can’t hurt to have a change of scenery, Ellen.” He sighed. “Go. See what Hollis does. Take a break. When was the last time either of you did something…fun?”
“Fun?” Hollis asked.
The startled look on his face chipped away at Ellen’s annoyance. “He doesn’t seem familiar with the word,” she said. Not that she had vast experience with it. But how was she expected to have fun with Hollis? In the very place he was working to eradicate her species?
“Then you should show him.” Jessa grinned, letting Finn help her from the rocking chair. “Enjoy yourselves.”
Hollis’s grunt conveyed his irritation. But he still found the energy to issue orders. “You should go to bed and rest, while she’s sleeping.” Hollis nodded at Diana sleeping in her mother’s arms.
Jessa waved away his comment and took Finn’s arm.
“I’ll make sure she rests and take good care of the three of them.” The tenderness in Finn’s voice triggered something.
Ellen’s throat tightened sharply, making it hard to breathe. She had no such memories of William save what Byron had shown her. There was no remembered tenderness or moments of love. When she thought of William, tenderness was the last thing she felt. Especially now. Anger. Sadness. And, always, the need to act. What would life be like to have such a bond? To have someone looking out for her, caring for her, wanting her companionship. Such thoughts were foreign to her. And pointless.
Hollis was watching her, she could feel it. But she refused to acknowledge him until they were alone. She didn’t want him analyzing her or dissecting her thoughts. But once she looked his way, her wolf had no interest in looking elsewhere. She’d wanted to stay angry. Her wolf overruled.
He stared right back. Sharp eyes, vibrant and beautiful. A good face, thoughtful and strong. Strikingly handsome. Even with a bend in his nose. She’d never noticed that before. But she rarely stared at him—before. “You broke your nose?” she asked, desperate to break the thickening silence.
His brow creased. “When I was a child.”
Hollis as a child. “I can’t imagine it. Were you a serious child?” Her fingertip itched to trace the line of his nose. “Already collecting bugs and putting them in jars to study them?” Red stained his cheeks, making her smile. She’d guessed right.
“Sometimes.” He cleared his throat. “I was a boy. Climbing trees, skipping rocks, and getting in trouble for smarting off.”
“Always telling people how wrong they were? Is that how your nose was broken?” she asked, easily imagining that.
He shook his head.
“I think it is,” she argued. “When you weren’t smarting off and getting punched in the face, you laughed? And smiled?”
One eyebrow arched, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yes.”
He would have been a beautiful child. Big green eyes and curly red hair. Enchanting. “I might have liked that Hollis,” she murmured, her gaze falling to his lips.
Hollis green eyes traveled her face, searching her eyes. “You like me.” His smile grew.
Her wolf would like it better if he was kissing her. Touching her. This was dangerous territory. It would be easier if they didn’t like each other. Her wolf, however, was the problem. And his wolf, there, eager to break free, staring at her from his brilliant green eyes. So close, close enough to touch. She wanted to touch him.
“And you like me,” she whispered. Whether or not he did, wasn’t the problem. His wolf did. And that was a very serious problem.
Chapter Ten
Like? No. He did not like her. He didn’t know what the hell this was? But he couldn’t shake it. Things like the ridge of her shoulder blade, the angle of her neck, and her slightly parted lips had him mesmerized. He was standing there, staring at her, and he couldn’t do a thing about it.
“Are you taking me with you because it’s what Finn wants?” Her words were thick and husky—pure and devastating temptation.
His brain was shorting out and she expected him to answer questions? “Finn is Alpha.” It was the first thing that crossed his mind. And safe.
Wrong answer. She went rigid, her gaze falling from his.
Fuck. He was never any good at hiding things. No point doing it now. Fuck it. “It’s what I want, too.” True. And dangerous to admit.
Her posture eased instantly. “Is it? Why?”
His chuckle was tight and forced. “I’m not sure.”
“No?” A slight smile, almost curious, curved one side of her lips. One green eye, one blue—both fixed warily on him. “My wolf might take it as an invitation.”
“For what?” he asked.
She smiled then, biting her lip, and turning back to the kitchen counter.
For what? He ran a hand over his face. He needed to hear her say it? Out loud? So he could further torment himself? Her wolf wanted him. And he wanted her. Which was stupid. Dangerous. Reckless. But, the way she sauntered across the room and straddled her stool, it was impossible to look away. She picked up her fork, then stabbed a bite, the pie disappearing into her mouth. She took her time sliding the fork out from behind her full lips.
“You enjoy that?” He crossed the room, standing close enough to breathe her in. Heaven and hell wrapped up in one spitfire package.
She smiled up at him. “Teasing you?”
The steady weight of her gaze made his pants unexpectedly tight.
; “I do. You know I do.” She speared a carrot with her fork. “Very much.”
He watched, far too interested in her teeth, her lips, and how much she seemed to enjoy nibbling the tip of her carrot.
She couldn’t seem to stop smiling. “Did you eat?” she asked.
“Yes,” he snapped.
She laughed. “Sit with me?”
He frowned. “I should get things packed up for tomorrow.”
She shrugged. “Tell me. Do you take your book of bedtime stories with you to your fancy lab?”
He wouldn’t take the bait. Whether it was published as fiction or not, he’d learned some of it was useful. Maybe the authors had passed stories down through the generations. Maybe they’d had encounters and lived to share bits and pieces. Whatever the reason, he found value in the massive collection of myths and parables. “I have another copy there.”
She paused, mid-chew. “You have another copy?”
“I have an extensive library at the lab. I understand that proven fact and legend or myth often have the same origins. It’s sifting between the details, understanding the symbolism and metaphors and nuances of ages past.” He headed into the kitchen, pulled a cup from the cabinet, and poured himself some cold water. “Your magic, I guess.”
She was up, pressed against his side, scraping her dish into the sink and rinsing the remaining crumbs into the garbage disposal.
He froze.
She pushed between him and the counter, pulling open the dishwasher and bending to load her plate. Her ass, a perfect curve, pressed against his rapidly shrinking pants. As if her scent wasn’t intoxicating enough. Or the brush of her silken hair beneath his chin. His hands wanted to explore every curve and dip of her body. He wanted to know her taste, drown in her scent, and bury himself deep inside of her.
“Hollis?” she asked, staring up at him.
He blinked, unable to breathe. Breathing only flooded his senses with her.
“I asked if you were done with your glass?” She was the picture of innocence—minus the flare of hunger in her eyes. And the far too satisfied smile on her lips. He couldn’t look away from her lips.
He stepped forward to put his glass on the countertop, but she wedged herself between him and the counter. He could step back, give her space. Give him space. But she was testing him. If she thought he was going to back down, she was wrong.
Protecting the Wolf's Mate (Blood Moon Brotherhood) Page 11
