Chapter Nine
“I’m sure.” No, he wasn’t sure. What the fuck had just happened? One second, he was pissed as hell at her calm willingness to sacrifice herself to the motherfucking Others, then the next he couldn’t stop touching her. She’d filled his hands, his senses, and stripped away whatever willpower was left. All that mattered was her and the thrum between them. He had to have her, needed her, desperately. To claim her—to bury himself inside of her.
In the three feet that separated them, he could make out the rapid beat of her heart and the husky rasp of her breath. Her scent. Her arousal. For him. She craved him, too. And, dammit, he wanted her. His hands fisted at his sides. If he reached for her, he wouldn’t stop.
She pushed off the door and paced the room, the quick glance between him and her bed too much.
“I’m going.” He forced himself from her room and closed the door behind him. Then he stood there, staring at the door like an idiot. He’d kissed her. No, he’d fucking mauled her. Against a door. A door that he could open easily. Would she be right there, waiting for him? Would she welcome him?
Her scent had been invitation enough. He groaned, his head falling forward to thump against the closed door. The echo of her breasts filling his hands. The tips of her nipples hard against his palms. She’d been so soft against him, yielding. She never yielded.
“Fuck,” he whispered, his fingers biting into the wood.
The door wasn’t enough of a barrier. He wanted to finish what they’d started, to lose himself in her, but knew that would be the biggest mistake of his life. One he’d likely never recover from. With a groan, he spun on his heel and walked back down the hall, around the corner, and into Finn’s office. If he didn’t do something, he’d turn back to her room. Being surrounded by the pack might help, too.
“Everything okay?” Finn asked when he entered.
He nodded. If he was lucky, they’d believe him.
“Did you talk to her?” Olivia asked. “I know she’s not officially one of the pack, but she’s not an Other. If she goes back—”
“They’ll kill her,” Mal finished.
“You guys can’t seriously trust her?” Dante was unapologetic. “Just because her eyes are different doesn’t mean she’s not one of them. She’s been living with them for years.”
“Like Tess,” Hollis snapped. “But we’re considering turning her. Tess, who has done unforgivable things. When Ellen has only helped us.”
The room fell quiet, all eyes on him. Because he sounded unhinged. His voice trembled, almost a borderline growl.
Finn cleared his throat. “I trust her. I trust her with my children’s life. And the safety of this pack.” His face grew thoughtful.
“She’s too careful.” Mal nodded. “There’s a reason she’s going back.”
A reason that sent him out of control. “Cyrus,” Hollis said, clearing his throat. “She can’t stop until he’s dead. It’s personal.” He glanced at each of them. “She talks when she sleeps. Her nightmares—Cyrus is always there. She’s going back to kill him.” He glared at Dante. “And protect us.”
Dante’s gaze fell from his.
Mal snorted. “That’s not her job.”
“She feels differently,” Hollis argued. “Death sentence or not, she’s going back. She’s determined to finish this. For our pack, our wolves.”
“No.” Olivia’s voice broke. “You can’t let her.”
Mal’s nod was tight.
“Fuck,” Dante’s whisper was soft. “I didn’t know.”
“Your time with them was hell on earth.” Finn looked at Mal. “That’s been her life for who knows how long. She has every right to want vengeance,” Finn spoke calmly. “But she is one of us now.”
“How do we convince her of that?” Anders asked. “No offense to Ellen, but she’s downright prickly when she wants to be.”
“Being nice to her is a good place to start,” Olivia said, elbowing Mal in the side. “She’s tough because she has to be.”
Hollis couldn’t argue with Anders’s description or Olivia’s insight. But the Ellen he’d pressed against the door not five minutes ago was anything but prickly. He cleared his throat, moving across the room to pour himself a glass of water.
“Sounds like Hollis has an in.” The amusement in Mal’s voice drew all eyes his way.
“I do?” He took a long sip of his water.
“Um, yea. You’re sleeping with her.” Dante sat on the edge of the desk, grinning when Hollis choked on his water.
Anders chuckled. “Never pegged you for being so adventurous.”
“Is she your mate?” Finn asked.
He set his cup down with more force than he intended. “I’m not sleeping with her.”
They waited.
“She’s fallen asleep in the lab.” He cleared his throat.
“Then why is she always touching you?” Anders added. “She’s nicest to you.”
“He’s nice to her,” Olivia explained, her hazel gaze searching his. “I don’t think she’s had many people be nice to her.”
Hollis stared into his glass. She wouldn’t thank him for sharing what little he knew with them. But he wasn’t done. “We can’t let her leave,” he said. “If she goes, she dies.”
“You’re asking me to keep her here?” Finn asked.
Hollis nodded, ignoring the variety of expressions the pack wore. They could interpret his request however they wanted. As long as Ellen didn’t leave, he was happy.
“You’re not sleeping with her…yet.” Mal chuckled.
Olivia punched him in the arm.
“I don’t know who to feel sorrier for.” Anders winked at him. “You for having to tame the wolf. Or her for having to break yours free.”
“Her, definitely her.” Dante chuckled.
“Can we stick to the facts?” Hollis snapped. “It’s not about getting laid, goddamn it. It’s about saving her life.”
The room fell silent again.
Finn nodded. “She’s not going anywhere, Hollis.”
Hollis slumped into the easy chair then. It was easier to breathe and think, knowing she wasn’t immediately in harm’s way. She’d fight this, fight him, but the pack would have his back. He had to find a way to show her this was where she belonged. And, together, they could beat Cyrus without anyone else dying.
When baby Diana started to fuss, Finn headed out. “Hollis,” he called, leading him down the hallway and into the living room. “How did the conference call go?”
The conference call he’d almost forgotten since his run-in with Ellen. He drew in a slow, calming breath. “It went well, but I’d like to be there when they implement the new protocols.”
He paused. “I’d like to fly to San Antonio for a few days.”
Finn nodded. “When?”
The sooner he went, the sooner he could come back. “Is tomorrow too soon?”
Finn shook his head. “That’s fine. Take Ellen with you. The break might do her some good. We’ve a full week until the next full moon.”
Hollis sucked in a deep breath. Leaving her made him…anxious. But he and Ellen, alone in the residential hotel he called home, was dangerous. Now that she’d woken up whatever the fuck this was, he had no idea how to control it. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
Finn looked at him. “Why?”
How the hell was he supposed to answer that? “I can’t watch her and work. It would be easy for her to leave.”
“Mal and Olivia can go with you,” Finn answered quickly. “Pick up some things. Have a little break. Give us a little break from them.” He smiled.
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 can’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.