Protecting the Wolf's Mate (Blood Moon Brotherhood)

by Sasha Summers

  Kim gasped, her attempts to break free of his hold failing—miserably.

  “No,” he spoke softly. He gripped her by the throat and lifted her from the floor, shaking her. “You do as I say, or you won’t like the consequences.” He placed her feet on the floor, his hold easing enough for her to breath. “I’m sorry to say your mother didn’t listen, Ms. Su.”

  Kim was sobbing now, her hands at her throat.

  Cyrus eyed the vials, a real smile on his lips. He pulled the cork free and downed one vial. His eyes closed, then opened. Another vial drained, his groan enough to make Hollis’s wolf see red. But then Cyrus’s smile was replaced by something hard, cold, and absolutely terrifying. “You?” he asked, his voice coarse, his jaw thickening and stretching. “You touched her? You made life grow inside her?”

  “Because she is mine!” Hollis yelled the words, muffled by the tape. She was his and Cyrus would never lay a hand on her. He closed his eyes, hoping she’d honor the vow she made him, yet knowing, deep down, she couldn’t.

  Kim backed away. Maybe it was the sudden movement or the effects of Ellen’s blood, but Cyrus snapped. He slapped Kim hard enough to send her into the wall. Her small form slid to the ground as the second elevator dinged. The doors opened, but the elevator was empty.

  Because his mate was brilliant, fierce, and made for battle. Hollis could do nothing but watch as she approached silently. With one kick, the Other’s knee snapped out, sending him forward. But her fingers gripped his head, twisting sharply, and tore the man’s head free before he ever hit the floor. The surprise on his face was almost comical. Almost.

  Hollis jerked against his bonds, bucking against the chair when the remaining Other turned, moving toward Ellen. The blade she threw lodged itself in the man’s eye. He tipped back onto his heels, his arms pinwheeling, while she sliced cleanly through his neck with what looked like an antique surgical knife.

  She stood, knives dripping, and stared at Cyrus.

  “You’re here.” The excitement in Cyrus’s voice was jarring. He was mesmerized, staring at Ellen with something that made Hollis’s skin crawl and his wolf howl in desperation. “This is a surprise, Ellen. A wonderful surprise.”

  God, he loved the fury on her face. There was nothing more beautiful. Or more terrifying.

  “Let him go.” Her growl made his wolf howl.

  “The good doctor? Your stunted wolf of a mate?” He bared his teeth.

  “Let him go.” Ellen’s jaw flexed. “And Kim, too.”

  “Let him live? What about the dozen wolves waiting outside? They didn’t come here to escort you home, Ellen. They came here looking for a fight.” Cyrus’s pale brows rose.

  Her smile was hard. “They came here because you made them come here. And they will leave, fight or not, if you tell them to go.”

  His smile was surprisingly genuine. “Come with me now and I will tell them to go.”

  Hollis jerked, fighting the tape and rope binding him in place. His protests were muffled by the tape covering his mouth. She wouldn’t go. She wouldn’t, but that didn’t stop him from yelling. A seed of doubt had been planted. She’d said she’d put their child first, protecting their baby was all that mattered. And yet she was the reason two men were dead on the floor. To protect him, his wolf was quick to remind him, as they would protect her.

  But he couldn’t protect himself. How could he expect to protect her?

  His wolf reared up, pushing inside until it hurt to breathe.

  “Ellen,” he barked her name, over and over, cursing the fucking tape.

  “He’s worried about you. Sitting there, trapped in his human body, too weak to free himself—let alone defend you. Why him, Ellen?” Cyrus asked, not bothering to look at him. “He can’t satisfy you, he can’t protect you. He can’t understand you. He is an embarrassment to the wolf.”

  Ellen’s lip curled, her hands fisted at her sides, but she kept quiet.

  “Or is the abomination in your stomach what he’s worried about?” Cyrus shook his head. “You must have gone into heat to let one of these false wolves taint your bloodline.”

  “Fuck you. I will gut you.” Hollis growled against the tape, knowing his insults were indecipherable and not caring. He wished the bastard understood every word he said, wished it would taunt him into action. “You’re going to die.” He fought harder, tugging until his skin burned from the rope.

  His wolf was losing it, pushing and clawing to get out. All that mattered was Ellen. Fuck Cyrus and his pack—she had to live, she had to be safe. She wouldn’t go. She’d given him her word that she’d protect their child.

  Cyrus studied her, his pale eyes narrowing. “No one else will die tonight.”

  “Ellen,” Hollis pleaded. If she’d look at him, she’d understand. “Ellen, dammit, don’t.”

  But she wouldn’t look at him. No matter how hard he stared at her—no matter how much his wolf pleaded with hers.

  “I give you my word,” Cyrus said, holding his hand out to her.

  Ellen’s gaze fell to the ground, searching the blood and carnage for something. His gaze followed hers, hunting until he understood. The vials. Two empty vials. As much as he wanted to believe they’d have an effect on Cyrus, he wasn’t willing to risk her life on it. Or the life of his child. “Her mother?” There was resignation in her voice and it turned Hollis’s stomach.

  “I prefer my dinner young and tender, but waste not, want not.” Cyrus glanced at Kim. “She’d be tastier. A snack, but filling.”

  Ellen glanced at Kim’s form, crumpled in the corner. “Put the blade away, Cyrus.”

  Hollis watched as the fight drained from Ellen. He knew, deep down, she’d already made her decision. And his wolf was mad as hell.

  “I’ll go with you,” she mumbled.

  Cyrus nodded, tucking the blade back into his jacket with practiced skill. He moved quickly and tugged the small blade from Hollis’s hand. The slide of metal on his bone set his teeth on edge, but he kept quiet.

  “Shall we?” Cyrus asked, gesturing toward the warehouse door. He pressed a button, the large metal garage door sliding up and revealing the empty loading docks outside. Beyond that were three unmarked white vans waiting.

  She was leaving. Walking away. But when she looked back at him, he saw only trust. Her wolf. She knew what he was capable of—and trusted him to do it.

  Cyrus’s hand rested on Ellen’s back, his voice low. “You understand you will be punished, Ellen. You know that. And this child of yours? Belongs to me.”

  A sort of bloodlust descended on his wolf. His vision burned red. Cyrus’s words echoed in his ears until his skull was bursting. His skin was hot and tight, lancing with a relentless and blinding pain. Hollis understood how pain worked. Specialized sensory receptors detected unpleasant stimuli, transforming the stimuli into electrical signals, and passing them to the central nervous system. It was a chemical process all living things experienced. To free his wolf, pain was necessary. And welcome.

  He closed his eyes and concentrated.

  The roll and twist of muscle made him freeze. Bones moved. Each click and snap more pronounced than the last. A surge of strength crashed into him. The tape couldn’t hold him, the chair he was tied to shattered beneath him. His spine and hips realigned, pushing him forward onto his hands and knees. And still, the pain was welcomed.

  Kim’s scream was faint, a distant echo.

  His heart was thumping, the liquid squish of his lungs growing heavy and full. His chest collapsed in on itself before swelling forward and expanding. Skin split, the tearing searing sensation raw—but bearable. Fingers and toes broke and came together. Hands and feet twisted, long claws slicing through the newly layered muscle and fur.

  His heart thumped on. Out of rhythm and irregular. Squeezing.

  His jaw dislocated, the grate of bone-on-bone as the hinge joint ground into place. His nose, already broken, lengthened—allowing scents to sharpen. Sounds echoed, reverberated, the hum of the c
omputer, and Kim’s panicked crying.

  When he opened his eyes, his world was forever changed. Minute details magnified instantly, providing added depth and perception. Breathing was easier. The wounds Cyrus and the Others had caused were gone. But his heart shuddered to a near stop, leaving him dizzy and disoriented.

  His wolf refused to be stopped. Whether or not Ellen agreed with him, their child needed protection. Nothing would stop him. He was a wolf and it was time he started acting like it. He gritted his teeth as his heart pumped, torqued hard, and stilled for one long second. It began again, beating strong and steady for the first time in his life. And the power of it rolled over him.

  “Dr. Robbins?” Kim asked.

  His wolf was in charge now. And he wanted blood. A long, low howl split from his throat—calling out a challenge—as he ran out the open door. The first white van came to a screeching halt, the door slid open, and Cyrus climbed down—smiling ear to ear.

  Hollis’s wolf didn’t hesitate, he charged. He didn’t care about the vans, the Others shifting for a fight, or how outnumbered he might be. It didn’t matter. Where was she? As long as she was safe, as long as she was alive… His gaze swept the parking lot, scenting the air, until he found her.

  The doors to a van was opened. She lay on the floor, her hands and feet tied, and her mouth gagged, her nose bleeding and her eyes closed, a silver collar around her neck. It was all the motivation he needed. His wolf said they could do it. If she believed him, he wasn’t about to argue. His wolf would lead, he would follow.

  They both agreed—no one would take her from them.

  Cyrus shrugged out of his jacket and shirt, waiting. He held his blade in his hand, braced and ready. No shifting. No fear. Only anticipation.

  Big mistake.

  The door stayed open, giving his wolf all the incentive he needed.

  Ellen would be fine. Their baby was fine. No matter what, his wolf would make sure of that. Cyrus had no idea what he’d done. But Hollis’s wolf was only too happy to show him. Ellen may have shown him he was a wolf, but Cyrus had unleashed it. And now his wolf wanted nothing more than to see Cyrus bleed out on the concrete under their feet.

  “Your loyalty is surprising, Dr. Robbins, if misguided. She is mine. She’s always been mine,” Cyrus taunted. His words were like gasoline on an open flame. “You will die here, tonight, and she will go home with me.”

  Hollis let the fury engulf him. Instinct was all the wolf needed. A pack of Others stood between him and Cyrus. His wolf looked forward to the practice.

  Combining his medical knowledge with the wolf’s physical dominance was highly effective. A claw swipe to the back of the leg meant slicing through the fibular artery. Sinking his teeth into the belly of an attacker was easy. Teeth shredded muscle to disembowel his victim. Death wasn’t necessary. Razor-sharp claws shredded skin, muscle, and bone—disabling his foe and freeing him to move on to the next one. He was only beginning to realize how powerful he was.

  And so were the Others.

  Seven bodies lay on the ground. Six Others hesitated, staring between him and Cyrus. Suddenly their own mortality mattered. Maybe Ellen was right. Maybe cutting off the head would free the rest. Maybe killing Cyrus could end this all.

  If only the vaccine would work. But he saw no dilated pupils, heard no break in Cyrus’s breathing, or involuntary spasms of his muscles.

  “A challenge?” Cyrus asked. “You’re so quick to die.”

  Hollis charged, dodging Cyrus at the last minute. Claws gouged a hunk of meat from Cyrus’s thigh. A warm spurt of blood spattered Hollis’s fur, the scent mingling with the stench of fight, adrenaline, pain, and death. His wolf breathed it in.

  Cyrus’s grip on the knife tightened as he swung the blade with enough force to split muscle from bone. The impact was jarring—the pain unexpected. Hollis shook it off, his wolf dismissing the blinding throb of the wound.

  He circled, moving in, then backing off. Cyrus didn’t like it, so Hollis’s wolf kept at it. He was light on his feet, quick. His opponent hadn’t expected that, and it gave him the edge he needed. The wolf pounced, knocking the man face-first to the concrete parking lot. He bit into the thick trapezius, shredding the muscle fibers on the right side before he leaped back.

  Cyrus rolled, his eyes blazing with rage. “You can’t hurt me. You’re not a real fucking wolf.” He smiled. “That’s why your mate left you. She missed a real man in her bed. A real wolf.”

  Hollis’s wolf lost control and Cyrus used it against him. He attacked blindly, putting himself in harm’s reach. Arms like steel bands clamped him tightly, a searing burn slid deep in his side. The fucker’s blade fit between his ribs to puncture his lung. But it wasn’t just a blade… His blood felt heavier, thicker around it, weighing him down and making his already labored breathing a true challenge.

  “Silver,” Cyrus ground out, ramming the blade deeper. “Hurts, doesn’t it? It will weaken you, too. You’ll see.”

  His wolf fought harder, frantic to knock the blade free. When that didn’t work, he bit into Cyrus’s right hand, crushing bone until Cyrus released him.

  “Enough,” Cyrus said. “Is this little display because she’s watching? You’re the only one who doesn’t know you’ve lost.”

  Hollis wouldn’t look at Ellen, he couldn’t. He had to focus.

  Cyrus smiled. “Have you ever fought a wolf, Dr. Robbins? Time to teach you what pain is.”

  Ellen moaned then, the muffled sound echoing in the van, demanding his attention. Pain didn’t describe the pressure that threatened to crush his chest. It was more urgent, desperate, and impossible to ignore. He knew what pain was. Having her in danger—their baby in danger. And knowing she hadn’t trusted him to keep either one of them safe. It shredded his heart and infuriated his wolf.

  “He’s mine,” Cyrus said to his pack before he fell forward onto his knees, his body contorting and stretching.

  Now would be a good time to attack. Cyrus had never been honorable, there was no reason Hollis had to be. His wolf could easily tear him to pieces.

  But he wasn’t Cyrus.

  He scented cars arriving, aware of the rubber on asphalt, the low hum of an engine, but his gaze remained on Cyrus. Whether it was more Others, police, or Finn, he couldn’t afford to look. Now was the time to finish this. For Ellen. For his pack. For his child. And for his wolf.

  Cyrus’s massive white wolf charged him, his teeth sinking into Hollis’s back leg and flipping Hollis onto his back. Neck exposed, Hollis dug his back legs into Cyrus stomach and kicked with all he had. Cyrus flew back, slamming into the parking lot, shaking his head as he stood on all fours.

  Cyrus wavered then, his body racked with sudden coughing. Blood dripped from his jaws, pooling on the ground beneath his front paws.

  The vaccine.

  Cyrus glared at him, his growl wet and garbled. Internal bleeding. Cyrus charged again, leaping onto Hollis’s back and biting into his shoulder. He hung on, as if he knew what was coming. Teeth sunk deep, he tugged with all his strength, pulling the fur and muscle free from Hollis’s shoulder.

  Hollis growled, falling hard onto his back and pinning Cyrus between him and the asphalt beneath. Cyrus’ body going unexpectedly still. Hollis stood, staring down at the white wolf. Eyes rolled back, tongue lolling, the wolf seized violently, flopping against the concrete before going still again. White fur receded as Cyrus’s involuntary shift began.

  Shifting now meant certain death. But staying in wolf form wouldn’t help him recover this time. The vaccine stole that from him. Stunned, Cyrus pushed himself up and onto his feet. His misshapen hands clawed at his own chest and throat, an ear-splitting screech piercing the air as the man’s warped chest expanded farther. Stuck between wolf and man. Cyrus’s eyes bulged as he stared at Hollis, his entire body bowing tight before blood erupted from his mouth. Hollis watched, stunned, as Cyrus’s chest swelled, expanding rapidly. Blood streamed from his nostrils, eyes, and ears.

&nb
sp; “You…did th-this?” His words were thick and slurred, but the hate and fear in his eyes was enough. He knew he was dying and Hollis—and Ellen—had killed him.

  Hollis’s wolf nodded. He wanted Cyrus to know. One way or another, he had killed the Others’ Alpha.

  With an anguished cry, Cyrus pressed his hands to his throat. Body swaying, his chest expanded severely, then popped as his skin, muscle, and bone collapsed in on itself with a sickening wet crunch. He dropped to the ground, his pale eyes murky. The shift incomplete, Cyrus’s remains were grotesquely broken, twitching and heaving on the blacktop.

  And then nothing.

  The silence stretched until the fur on the back of his neck bristled. The Others’ wolves were breathing hard, panicked, ready to fight but hesitant to start something with an unknown outcome—and no one to lead them. They wouldn’t just be facing him now, the scent of Finn and his pack assured him he was no longer alone.

  Ellen was struggling to sit up in the van, eager to fight but unable. A silver collar circled her long, slim neck, infuriating his wolf, keeping him ready and willing for whatever the rest of the pack might throw at them.

  “We don’t have to fight.” Finn used his Alpha voice—commanding and strong. “Your Alpha is dead. Whatever you do now is your choice.”

  The Others’ confusion was understandable. Their leader used fear and intimidation. How would they react when confronted by the people who Cyrus had convinced them were their enemies.

  His death would divide them. Some would hold on to his teachings. Others would be open to change.

  A lethal growl sounded before three wolves attacked, two more following.

  Hollis answered the growl, planted his front paws, and bared his teeth. The two that followed broke off and turned back, hiding behind the protection of their pack.

  The clash of teeth and claws was quick. His wolf wanted this, needed it, and offered no mercy. When it was over, they lay dead and he was bleeding from the snout and neck—but the overwhelming urge to kill was beginning to fade.