Saving Ellie (Lycans Book 1)

by Whitney R. B.

  “I hope so. She’ll have to stay with me until I know she’ll be safe.” Her gaze snaps to me. Ah, caught the little eavesdropper. I grin as her eyes narrow. She had no idea what I was planning.

  He sighs through the phone. “Good, and Zac?”

  My grin drops. “It'll happen in three weeks.” I don’t want to think too much about the challenge. I don’t want to think about the outcome even more.

  “Excellent, I’ll be back in time.”

  I straighten. “Foster, you don’t—”

  “I do. It’s time I come back anyway. You know Russell and I will always have your back.”

  I relax against the chair. I would never ask them to go against an alpha, but knowing they’ll stand behind me without having to ask is a weight lifted off my shoulders. And if I win, I’d have to pick new betas and a delta. Russell and Foster are my first two picks. Maybe Sophie as my delta, if she and Russell can get along.

  “I appreciate it,” I say, but I don’t elaborate.

  “What about that other lycan?” Foster asks.

  My entire body tenses. “Marcus,” I growl softly into the phone, trying not to alert Ellie, but her hands grip the blanket tighter.

  “And you’ve never seen him before,” he states rather than asks.

  “No,” I say through clenched teeth. “I haven’t, but Ellie knows him.”

  “That’s…not good. You need help protecting your girl?”

  I smile. My girl, I like that.

  “Probably. I’m going to have shifts around my home with only lycans I can trust. But I’m going to have to let you go. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Talk soon.”

  I click off then turn my phone off. It’s time to get answers from Ellie, but first, to put some much-needed food in her belly.

  Once Ash hangs up, I turn off the television. I’m buzzing with the need to see what book he brought. It’s been calling to me as it rests on his lap—face down—the entire time he’s been on the phone. I find it highly unfair that he didn’t just give it to me while he was talking. Instead, I had to eavesdrop while he was chatting with Foster, pretending to search for something to watch.

  And I have some concerns.

  Like me staying with him.

  I may have forgiven him and believe his whole wolf-shifter thing, but once I get discharged, I’m running far and fast.

  “Are you hungry?”

  I blink. What? Out of everything he could’ve said, that was last on the list. “Not particularly. Why?”

  “Alice told me about your eating habits.”

  “My eating habits?”

  He nods and leans back with his arms crossed, suddenly all business-like. “You can’t get this book until I see you eat. Everything.”

  “What, am I five suddenly?”

  His eyes narrow. “Your eating is worse than a five-year-old.”

  “No one can eat all their food all the time, Ash.”

  “But you barely touch yours—ever.”

  I sigh. “Alright, you might have a point. But I know I have this problem, so it’s fine.”

  He gives me an exasperated look. “That doesn’t make it ‘fine’, Ellie. What makes it fine is if you’re going to do something to fix it. So, are you?”

  “Fix it?” I bite my lip. He nods, and I let out a pent-up breath. “I was starting to do better until I got hospitalized. I didn’t eat for five days before I woke up. Marcus entered my life again, and I’m itching all the time with a headache that won’t seem to go away.”

  He grows still.

  His eyes catch on all the red marks on my body from scratching. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner,” he says, leaning closer, scooting to the edge of his chair. “I’ll talk to Kathy about your headaches and itching. But with the other thing, let me help you.” His eyes are earnest as he looks at me.

  “It won’t be easy for me to change.”

  “I don’t expect it to be.”

  “It’s been going on since I was thirteen.”

  “And you’re twenty now, right?” he asks.

  I nod. “Seven years.”

  The corners of his mouth turn down. “That’s a long time, and it’ll take a while to help you, but”—he gestures to my food—“we’ll start now and slowly increase your intake. We can talk to Kathy tomorrow about everything and get her opinion to see if we need to be referred to anyone.”

  I sniffle and rub my eyes as tears threaten to spill. Why does his concern and kindness affect me so deeply? “And the book?” I eye it.

  He chuckles. “Still can’t have it until you eat, but I won’t force you to eat everything. I didn’t realize how big of an issue this was for you.”

  I wring my blanket. “Yeah,” I say softly.

  “Ellie,” Ash says quietly as he takes my hands. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about. It’s a disorder, and we’ll get through it together.”

  “A forced disorder.”

  He blinks, rubbing just above one eyebrow. “What?”

  I bite my lip, considering telling him. Letting out a pent-up breath, I say, “Marcus...barely gave me enough food to survive when I was under his ‘care’.” My gaze drops to our joined hands. His grip tightens, but it’s not painful. “Even after, while on the run, I didn’t carry much food with me. Took up too much space.”

  “Who is Marcus to you?” Ash asks so quietly I almost don’t catch his question.

  My hands tremble as memories flood in. “He…he was my foster father. I went to him and his wife when I was thirteen.”

  “Why is he chasing you?”

  I shrug, keeping my gaze on our hands. “He apparently wants my blood.”

  His brows rise. “That’s...concerning and not what I was expecting you to say.”

  “I escaped three years ago and have been running ever since. It’s why I can’t stay here.”

  “I’ll come with you then. I already told you that I want to be wherever you are.”

  I remove my hands. “It’s not that simple, Ash.”

  He takes my hands back. “But it is.”

  “He won’t give up. Marcus is relentless and angry. You saw what he did when he finally found me. You could die.”

  “And what about you?” His words come out low with anger. “Do you even realize how close to death you got?” He clenches his jaw. “I almost lost you.”

  I flinch. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  He gives me an incredulous look. “You almost dying has everything to do with it.” He takes a fortifying breath, trying to contain his anger. “I know I failed in protecting you, but I promise I won’t again. There are so many things I wish I could’ve changed, but I’m going to make it right. I care about you and want you safe.”

  I blink away tears. “You didn’t fail, Ash,” I whisper. “You’ve been doing everything right. I just—I can’t chance you getting hurt because I care about you too.”

  He pauses before a slow smile grows. “You care about me?”

  Swallowing, I give him a nod.

  “So, you understand how I feel about you getting hurt and why I can’t just let you leave without me.”

  I bite my lip. “I understand, but it’s still not happening.”

  He closes his eyes and inhales through his nose. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

  “Actually.” I tilt my head. “I’m doing this to keep you alive—you really should be thanking me.”

  He shakes his head and lets out a sigh. “Tell me more about Marcus.”

  “Are you sure you want to know?”

  He closes his eyes as he inhales deeply through his nose. His eyes pierce mine when he opens them. “Yes. I need to know.”

  “Okay.”

  “While you eat.”

  I glare at him but remove the lid of the meal, revealing a loaded sandwich cut in half and a side salad. I grimace at the amount of food that’s been stuffed between the slices of bread. “I would also like to call Jane.”
<
br />   He nods, with his arms resting on his knees. “Emma told me she’s kept her updated on you. But you can call after you eat and tell me about Marcus.”

  “And see the book.”

  His grin is fast. “And keep the book.”

  My brows rise as I grab one of the halves. “I would very much like that. I’ve been dying to read something.”

  His eyes flash with distress. “Poor choice of words, Ellie darling.”

  “Ah, sorry.” I take a bite, hearing the crunch of the lettuce as my teeth sink in. I cover my mouth before speaking. “Tell me more about lycans while I eat then I’ll talk after.” Talking while eating is not the best look, I’m sure. But I’m also in a butt ugly gown and deeply in need of a shower, so I can’t really look worse right now.

  He leans back in the chair, his eyes tracking my movements. “I’m not really sure where to start.” He stops to collect his thoughts.

  “Packs?” I offer with food still in my mouth.

  He nods. “Packs are like you mentioned, a group of lycans, but there are hundreds of them throughout the world. Each pack is run by either an alpha or an alpha couple.”

  Swallowing, I hold up a finger. “Why have a couple when there’s already an alpha?” I hold up a second finger. “And mated?” I squeak and take a sip of my water. Isn’t that when two animals come together and make babies? I choke on water at the thought.

  Concern is etched on his face. “You alright?”

  I nod and gesture for him to proceed.

  He eyes me before sitting back again. “We encourage mating and having a family, and having a partner is a family. From there you can build upon it if you want. Someone to guide and love your family with you. It’s the same with a pack. Two leaders are better than one, right?”

  “I like that,” I say, taking another bite.

  He matches my smile. “Me too. My parents were the alpha couple before they…died.” He clears his throat. “I got to watch how they work firsthand. And mated is like marriage in human terms, but on a deeper level.”

  I let out a breath. Not as bad as I thought. They aren’t animals. “And destined mates?” I mumble around my food, remembering him mentioning it when I first found out about him being a wolf.

  “There are two different types of mates. Chosen and destined. We believe we have destined mates from the magic that we were created from.”

  “Destined mates are kind of like soulmates?” I ask, but he gestures to my food, so I take another bite.

  “Yes, but they are rare to find.”

  “So, that’s why there’s a thing called chosen mate,” I say between bites.

  “Exactly. It means they chose their mate without fate intervening.”

  “So, if you meet your destined mate, you won’t have a choice whether you want them or not? You’ll just be mates? How do you even know it’s your mate when you meet?” The questions tumble out of my mouth. I know Ash said the connection he feels between us makes him think of the mate bond. But that’s not possible, right? And what would happen if he actually found his mate? Would that change how he feels about me?

  He tilts his head. “For a human, you’re thinking a lot about this.”

  “I...I guess you’re right, but I’m curious. I want to know how your world works.”

  And if your feelings will change if your destined mate suddenly shows up.

  “I’m glad.” He smiles. “But no, when you meet your destined mate, you will have a choice. People do reject the mate link if they’ve already chosen a mate or already love someone else.” He glances at my plate, my sandwich now gone. “You don’t have to eat the salad. Would you like to change clothes, though?”

  “I don’t have any other clothes.”

  He picks up a bag that I forgot he brought in. “I got some for you.” He moves the table away and sets the bag on the bed beside me.

  I start sorting through it. “None of these are mine.”

  “They are now. Emma complained to me that you don’t have many, so she gave me your sizes, and I bought some for you.” He palms the back of his neck. “I hope I didn’t overstep.”

  I shake my head as my face heats up. There’s not only shirts and pants, but also underwear and bras. “She told you my bra size, too?”

  He coughs, growing red under his light-brown skin. “Uh, yeah. Do you need help up?” He quickly stands, offering his hand.

  I move the bag then take his hand, keeping my gaze low. “I would like to shower first.”

  “I’ll help you with that.”

  My leg muscles and feet ache from their lack of use as Ash gently guides me to the bathroom.

  He has me sit on a stool in the bathroom before turning on the water. He places a towel and new clothes out for me.

  “Oh,” he mutters then leaves the room. He comes back with two bottles, one shampoo the other conditioner, and a little bag of other hygiene supplies.

  My heart swells. “You really thought of everything.”

  “I just want to make sure you’re getting taken care of.” He tests the water with a few fingers. “This shouldn’t be too warm.” His eyes travel the length of my body, his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. A shiver runs through me. Why is he looking at me like that? I look disgusting.

  “Do you need any more help?” he asks, his voice thick.

  I shake my head. “I can do the rest. Thank you.”

  He glances at the door. “Okay, I’ll be just outside the door. Just say call out if you need anything.”

  “Will do.”

  He nods and walks out, closing the door behind him.

  After my shower, I change into a pair of sweats and a loose t-shirt, but I forgo the bra due to the injuries that still line my back. I come out of the bathroom with a brush in hand and find Ash waiting where he said he would.

  He’s by my side as I walk back to the bed, hovers next to me while I sit, and watches as I run the brush through my hair.

  “May I?” he asks, holding out a hand.

  I pause and stare at it with a slight tilt of my head. “Brush my hair?”

  He nods.

  “Uh.” I look down at the brush. “Sure.”

  He takes it from me before climbing onto the bed, lightly nudging me so he can get behind me.

  His fingers graze the back of my neck as he gathers my hair. He holds it tight as he brushes the ends first, getting the tangles out. But he’s gentle, only small tugs that are oddly pleasant.

  “It seems like you’ve done this before,” I say.

  “Yes, I’ve lived long enough to learn how to brush a woman’s hair.”

  I frown. I don’t like that answer. Whose hair has he been brushing?

  When I don’t say anything he says, “When my mother was alive, I would brush her hair whenever my father was dealing with the pack.”

  “Oh.” Now I feel petty. I was jealous of his mother. Wait—is that what I was feeling? “Did he leave a lot?”

  “Not a lot, but at least once a month for a few days. They were the alpha couple, like I mentioned earlier, but my father would leave to visit other packs for either meetings, settling disputes, trade, etcetera. My mother would leave at times too, but she liked staying home with me more. They would always discuss what would be best for the pack together before he left. They led together as one.”

  “I like that.”

  “Me too.” I hear the smile in his voice. “When I was young, before my father would leave, he would always tell me that I needed to make sure my mother wasn’t lonely—that I should take care of her. I tried my best. I remember hearing her once tell my father how much she loved having her hair done at salons. I couldn’t do her hair like a stylist, but I decided that I could comb it and do a simple braid. The first time I braided her hair was a mess, but not from a lack of effort.” He chuckles. “My mother took one look in the mirror and said she loved it. She even kept it in when she went into town later that day. Because of how proud she was of me and how much she said she loved
it, I continued to brush and braid her hair even as I grew older.”

  “She sounds amazing.” I smile at his story. “I never brushed my mother’s hair, but I would always watch her get ready before she would brush mine.” I frown. I think she was the last one to brush my hair. I blink as tears threaten to spill. I don’t want to think about that right now. “How old are you?” I turn around to look at him.

  He sits back. “One hundred and fifteen.”

  “One hundred and fifteen as in?”

  “One hundred and fifteen years.”

  My mouth gapes. “So old.”

  He cringes and averts his gaze. “Is that a turn off?” He looks at me through his lashes.

  I look at him closer, his smooth, light-brown skin. His lush ebony hair that’s almost in his glacier-blue eyes. He could easily pass as someone in their mid to late twenties. And strangely, I don’t feel put off that he’s so much older than me. But why is that? Why does he look so young when he’s over a hundred years old? Is it because he’s a lycan?

  “Not really, actually,” I say.

  He chuckles with relief. “Thank heavens. I’m not sure what I would’ve done if you said yes. I almost came out and said I was joking.”

  I laugh. “I don’t know why, but I don’t mind. Maybe if you looked that old I would, but it doesn’t bug me, probably because you look close to my age.” Pausing, I tilt my head. “Why do you exactly—look my age? Do lycans age differently?”

  He nods. “Once a lycan hits their early twenties, time seems to slow. Which makes age gaps common among us, so I wasn’t too concerned about your age.”

  I bite my lip. “You don’t think I’m too young?”

  He grins with adoration in his eyes. “Definitely not too young. In lycan terms, I’m considered young.”

  “What’s considered old?”

  “High hundreds—thousands.”

  “There are lycans that old?” I ask. It’s strange thinking that there are others that have been around that long. What do they do with all that time? My life is just a blip to theirs, and I already don’t know what I’d do if I was no longer worried about Marcus.

  Actually, that’s a lie. I’d find a place to settle down and go from there.