The Protector's Heart (Wilde Creek Three)

by R. E. Butler

  She blinked rapidly, and tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. “You promise you’ll take me home with you tonight?”

  He brushed a tear away with his thumb. “I swear.”

  She swallowed audibly. “Tell me I’m yours, Malachi.”

  He smiled softly at her. “You’re mine, Nila. And I’m yours, too.”

  She shivered in his arms, and he kissed her. He wasn’t going to tell her not to worry, because he didn’t think she’d stop. He didn’t believe she was nervous because she didn’t trust him, but nervous because she knew what weighed in the balance. The fight tonight held her future and Jack’s in the balance. Nothing had ever been as important.

  Their small caravan arrived at the park just before sunset. Acksel, Sam, and Dade walked ahead of Malachi and Nila, the other protectors bringing up the rear. They walked to the center of the park, where Damien’s pack was gathered. He’d been worried about Nila and how she would feel when she came face to face with her ex. If Isaiah hadn’t made it a condition of the fight, Malachi would have made sure she stayed home, away from the violence.

  As they walked closer, he felt her begin to grow tense. She shrugged off his arm and grasped his hand, linking their fingers. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. Malachi was proud of her.

  They stopped walking and Acksel met Isaiah. The other pack had formed a semi-circle around the open area. Dade said that Isaiah’s pack wasn’t much bigger than Wilde Creek’s pack, and Malachi saw no females in the group. Acksel hadn’t brought along their entire pack because it wasn’t a show of strength between packs, but a mate challenge, which had an entirely different set of rules — among them, no interference from pack members.

  Malachi scanned the group and picked Damien out easily. He looked like a younger version of Isaiah. He was tall and lanky — not as tall as Malachi and certainly not as well-muscled, but Malachi wasn’t going to underestimate the male. He stood casually, his arms crossed and a blank look on his face as if he didn’t have a thought in his brain, but his eyes were sharp and Malachi knew that Damien was used to people believing he wasn’t as dangerous as he actually was. Unlike his father, Damien was clean-cut, but his ugly went soul-deep as far as Malachi was concerned.

  Isaiah spoke loudly. “The Dorlan Pack welcomes the Wilde Creek Pack for this challenge. Challengers, please step forward.”

  Malachi kissed Nila and slipped out of his coat, handing it to her. He watched her put it on, and then joined Acksel. Damien slunk forward, sneering at Malachi and then looking past him to Nila.

  “Female!” Isaiah bellowed.

  Malachi snarled, and Acksel put his hand on his chest and kept him from leaping forward.

  Acksel looked at Nila. “It’s safe here, Nila; its part of the challenge.”

  Malachi bared his teeth but stopped pressing against Acksel’s hand. Nila hurried forward and stopped just behind Malachi. He reached for her hand and she grasped it. Her fingers were ice cold, and he knew it was from fear as well as cold.

  Isaiah looked at her with complete disdain. “The challenge is for mating rights to the human, winner takes all. No complete shifting, no weapons, and no killing. The winner is chosen when the loser is unconscious or gives up.”

  Malachi smiled at Nila, but she didn’t return it. Her eyes were filled with worry and fear, and he could see that she was trembling. She’d spent a long time being afraid of Damien.

  “I’m making things right for all three of us,” Malachi said softly, tweaking her chin with his thumb and finger.

  “Be careful,” she whispered.

  He nodded and she and Acksel stepped away from him, joining the other wolves from the pack. Cracking his neck, he looked at Damien as he stood, his hands loose at his sides.

  Damien smirked. “I see the marks you left on her neck. I’ll be sure to cut them off slowly when she’s kneeling at my feet tonight.”

  Malachi recognized that he was baiting him into making the first move, but he was too well trained to do that. He’d just beat him a little harder for the threat. His wolf growled, stretching and rolling under his skin, and wanting to harm the male who had hurt their mate for so long.

  It was time to end her suffering.

  * * * * *

  Nila watched as Malachi and Damien stared at each other. Only a few feet separated them, but they were so different. Malachi was strong and self-possessed. He looked like he could stand there in his Under Armour shirt and loose jeans all night. Damien looked like he was about to twitch out of his skin. The sneer he’d directed at her almost nightly during their time together was plastered to his face, but there was no real bravado behind it. She’d known he was violent and had first-hand experience with it, but aside from hearing the odd bit of gossip in town about pack fights, she hadn’t ever seen him fight with another male. Maybe he only liked to beat up women.

  Her gaze strayed to Isaiah, who looked both aggravated and bored. It probably killed him to see his son fighting over her, since he hadn’t considered her worthy of even having his last name. She wondered if Damien’s mom had been beaten by Isaiah, too, and that’s where Damien learned the behavior. Were all the mated she-wolves in their pack mistreated, with the alpha’s blessing?

  Malachi raised his hands, curling them into fists just a second before Damien bellowed and threw himself forward. They clashed, and she cringed as they fought hard. Damien’s fists flew with blinding speed, but Malachi was faster. Damien’s fists never seemed to really touch Malachi, but Malachi’s fists, on the other hand, always landed where they were supposed to. Damien’s head snapped back as Malachi’s punch landed on his chin. Damien grunted, spitting blood on the ground and snarling as he came back with both hands swinging. Malachi kicked him, his booted foot catching Damien in the stomach and shoving him back several feet.

  Damien howled and she saw fangs in his mouth. His hands lengthened and his body bulked slightly as he took on part of his wolf shift. She’d only seen it once, when he’d taken her to his parents’ home on the night of a full moon and left her inside while he went out to carouse. Someone had wanted the female he was talking to, and he’d shifted slightly and mauled the male. She’d been terrified, and so had the female, who screamed and begged for help as Damien dragged her into the woods.

  “Son of a bitch,” Acksel growled. “No wonder he said no complete shifting.”

  Her heart jumped into her throat. She didn’t know a lot about wolves, but she knew that they were stronger than humans, even in half-form. She wanted to run out and put herself between Malachi and Damien, but she knew she couldn’t interfere. Malachi would win. The other option meant her life was over.

  * * * * *

  Sneaky son of a bitch, Malachi thought as he watched Damien partially shift. In his book, that was cheating. You either fought as a man or a wolf. This wasn’t some street fight with no rules, this was a sanctioned mate challenge. Damien was no honorable male. Not that he’d ever thought he was in the first place. Anyone who tormented and hurt a female was a total scumbag.

  One clawed hand swung out at him and Malachi dodged it, aiming for Damien’s stomach with his fist, enjoying the grunt of pain as he hit his target. Claws grasped his shoulders, but Malachi twisted loose as Damien’s frustration grew. Damien lurched forward, and Malachi jerked to the side as the male rushed past him. The world spun suddenly as Malachi was jerked off his feet by a clawed hand gripping his ankle. He hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. He was dazed, but he knew he couldn’t lay there until he got his bearings. Rolling abruptly, he missed being stomped on by just a fraction.

  Damien leapt at him and Malachi wasn’t fast enough to avoid being caught under him. The other male snapped his teeth, fangs glinting, and Malachi palmed Damien’s chin and pushed against him, knowing that if he got his jaws around his neck, things could go bad in a heartbeat.

  Damien grasped Malachi’s ribcage and squeezed. The claws broke through his skin and Malachi grunted at the pain, fe
eling his blood begin to run down his sides and soak his shirt. The pressure was intense; he felt something crack on his right side, and grunted.

  He saw something in Damien’s eyes then — a menacing promise of what would happen to Nila if he ever got his hands on her again. The corners of his mouth curled up over his fangs, and he snapped and lunged again. Malachi snarled in rage, smashing his palm into Damien’s chin and grabbing his exposed throat with his other hand. As quickly as he’d been pinned, Malachi turned the tables on the male, flipping him over and squeezing his windpipe. Malachi wanted to dig clawed fingers into his throat and kill him. Squeeze hard until his fingertips met through the blood and meat of his neck, and make sure that he never breathed the same air as Nila again. But this wasn’t a fight to the death.

  Malachi ignored the claws as they raked down his sides, focusing on the deepening red of Damien’s face as he struggled to breathe. He grew weaker with each moment. Malachi could hear his heart pounding, and his movements turned from attacking to defending as he used his last bit of consciousness to try to push Malachi away.

  “She’s mine. I claim her and Jack as my own. Touch them and die.”

  Anger sparked in Damien’s eyes for a brief moment; then he went limp, and his eyes lost focus and closed. Malachi was still tempted to kill him. His wolf wanted the male dead.

  Acksel and Isaiah came to stand before him as he slowly released his hold on the male’s neck and stood up. He didn’t want to show any weakness, so he clenched his teeth together and ignored the lightheadedness that the blood loss caused him.

  Isaiah knelt and touched his fingers to Damien’s throat. He glanced up with a grimace. “He lives. By the rules of the mate-challenge, the human female is yours to do with as you will.”

  Acksel pulled a manila envelope from inside his jacket and said, “The papers.”

  Isaiah nodded at a young male, who darted forward and took them from Acksel. “I’ll ensure they’re signed and delivered on Friday, to the human’s place of business.”

  Malachi nodded and turned toward Nila, who was standing between Dade and Sam, tears streaming down her face.

  She stumbled forward and closed the distance to him, but she didn’t touch anything but his forearm. “Let’s get you to a hospital,” she whispered.

  “We’ll go to Doc’s,” Dade said, joining them.

  She bit her lip. “If you’re sure?”

  Malachi was grateful when Dade answered for him. “It’s for the best.”

  The pain that Malachi had been ignoring was starting to overwhelm him, and it wouldn’t look good if he passed out leaving the fight.

  Sam opened the passenger door. Nila climbed in first, and Malachi flopped onto the seat next to her. In minutes they were on their way. Nila turned to face him and reached for him, her fingers hovering over his cheek. “I want to touch you but I can’t see enough in the dark to know where,” she whispered thickly.

  He covered her hand with his and pressed them into his neck. “I’m already healing, love.”

  Her thumb rubbed back and forth on his skin, and he smiled at her, even though it made his lip split open further, and blood ran down his chin.

  “Thank you.”

  “It was my honor and duty to see you safe.” He chuckled when he realized how corny that sounded. Trying again, he said, “Sweetheart, you’re my mate, my other half. Anyone that threatens you has to get through me, first, okay? I want you to be able to make your own choices and to stop looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life. I’d go to the grave to see you free from your past.”

  That was a really harsh truth, and he could see that his words affected Nila. Even in the dark of the vehicle he could see tears glittering in her eyes.

  He bit back his groan as he reached for her and pulled her into his arms. He urged his healing nature to work faster, but his body didn’t listen to him. Broken ribs, deep bruises, claws marks — they all took time to heal, but he didn’t want to wait until he was well to comfort her. She sobbed quietly against his shoulder, and he closed his eyes, wishing that he was already healed and they were already home.

  “I’ve got him,” a voice spoke from a distance as Malachi felt himself being lifted in the air and laid down on something soft. He fought to open his eyes, but when he did, he was met with a blinding light.

  “Oops, sorry, Malachi,” Doc said, flicking the penlight away.

  He felt the air moving around him and it took his mind a minute to figure out that they were at Doc’s and he was on a hospital bed being wheeled into the clinic. His vision kept blinking in and out, and he really wanted to just go back to being unconscious, even though he was mildly embarrassed that he’d passed out.

  “What do you need, Doctor?” Nila asked as the bed stopped moving and the scent of strong cleanser filled his nose. Her tone was brusque and businesslike, but he could hear a thread of worry.

  “You’ve had training?” Doc asked.

  “I’m a nursing assistant.”

  Doc hummed in surprise. “Let’s find out. Malachi? Malachi? Open your eyes, son.”

  Malachi forced his eyes to open, not sure when they’d even closed again, and blinked to clear the blur.

  “Do you want to shift or do you want me to heal you?”

  He felt Nila’s hand squeeze his arm, and he knew he wanted to be healed as soon as possible. He needed to get Nila, pick up Jack, and take them both home and keep them safe.

  “Heal.”

  “Right, this is not going to be fun for you,” Doc said.

  “Wait, what?” Nila asked.

  Malachi’s vision cleared enough for him to see her perfectly. “Faster.”

  “Shouldn’t you shift? I thought…”

  Her voice trailed off as Doc came to the bedside and handed Nila a small vial of clear liquid. “Put this on his wounds. It’s a healing potion that will speed up his natural abilities. He’ll be able to walk out of here in an hour.” Doc glanced at him and said, “It won’t be a fun hour, though.”

  Malachi didn’t care. Shifting meant he couldn’t talk to Nila for several hours, and the stress of shifting while wounded would make him tired and he’d probably pass out. He was already pissed off that he’d passed out in the SUV on the way to Doc’s; he didn’t want to do it again. The healing potion would keep him awake, and he’d be better able to protect her and take care of her.

  Nila uncorked the bottle and sniffed at the contents. “It smells a bit like eucalyptus.”

  Malachi ground his teeth together for a minute as his vision blurred out from the pain. When he could talk without cursing, he said, “Sweetheart, please.”

  Nila glanced at Acksel, who was standing at the end of the bed, and then looked at Malachi with resignation in her pretty brown eyes. She insisted on washing her hands first, which she did quickly, and then she began to apply the potion to his wounds. While she worked on his visible wounds, Doc made a poultice and packed it on his side, where he had at least one broken rib, wrapping the thick, antiseptic mush in cotton bandages and tying it tightly to his chest. Immediately he felt the poultice begin to work, seeping into his skin like it was laced with a million red-hot ants with razors for teeth. Nila said nothing as she worked, and Malachi kept his teeth clenched together so he didn’t scare her with the curse words he wanted to shout. Once, when he’d first shifted as a teenager, he’d been tumbling around with some of the other males and fallen into a bonfire. He’d rolled out of it quickly, but had singed his back leg and burned part of his skin. It had been painful as he’d waited for his body to heal him. This, though, was far worse. Between the potion that Nila was methodically applying to his cuts and bruises and the wrap around his chest, he felt like he was being cut apart slowly and stitched back together by sadistic doctors.

  He blinked and Nila was pressing a cool cloth to his forehead. Had he passed out? Again? She touched his mouth with the cloth and it appeared red-tinged with blood. Her cheeks were wet with tears, her mouth puckered into a fr
own.

  His voice cracked when he whispered, “You okay?”

  She laughed, but it was high and forced. “Did you just ask me that? I wasn’t the one who went toe to toe with a psycho and then asked my girlfriend to torture me with some weird liquid.”

  “Mate,” he said hoarsely.

  “What?”

  He inhaled slowly and found that he could breathe easier. The poultice was doing its job, and the feeling of being eaten alive was slowly easing.

  “You’re my mate, not my girlfriend.”

  She rolled her eyes and smacked his shoulder with the wet cloth. “You’re unbelievable.”

  “Thanks, baby.”

  She laughed for real this time, and then the tears slipped down her cheeks as she started to cry. Even though his wounds weren’t entirely healed yet, he pulled her onto the hospital bed and cradled her as close as he could. She didn’t say what was bothering her, but he could guess it was a culmination of all the events of the last few days, compounded with her happiness at being free.

  Eventually she stopped crying and tilted her face up to him, her eyes shining brightly and her cheeks flushed. She lifted herself from him slowly, her eyes darkening. He could hear her heart beating fast. Her gaze drifted to his mouth, and she made a soft, almost growling sound before she kissed him. Possessiveness stole through him with the taste of her and the feel of her over him, and he rolled her underneath him and snarled at the small bite of pain in his side as he still wasn’t entirely healed.

  Not that he cared. The pain was forgotten as he kissed her again and slid his hand under her top. Her skin was silky and warm, and he inched his way up her side until he felt the satin of her bra.

  “For fuck’s sake, Malachi, you’re still healing,” Doc grumbled from the doorway.

  Malachi growled as he lifted from Nila’s tempting mouth. “Go. Away.”

  “No. No one has sex in my house but me, and especially not in one of the patient rooms.”