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Rescued by the Wolf (Blood Moon Brotherhood) by Sasha Summers (15)

Chapter Fifteen

“Hollis believes her knowledge of the Others is an asset.” Finn’s posture was rigid, his tone commanding. He was in Alpha mode, and he sure as hell wanted Mal to know it.

“What do you believe?” There was no point arguing with Finn. He didn’t want to argue. He did want to understand. Letting an Other in didn’t make sense.

Finn’s brows rose. “She knows things we don’t.”

“And she’s sharing this information with you?” Mal asked, flopping into one of the leather chairs in the office.

Finn sighed. “Slowly.”

“What’s in it for her? Don’t give me some touchy-feely crap, or I will lose my shit.” He stared at the man he’d once considered his best friend, waiting.

“I need you to trust me.” Finn’s patience was fading.

Mal opened his mouth then closed it.

“You think I’m an idiot. That I’m putting the pack in danger. I get it.” Finn frowned.

“I don’t think. I know.” He shook his head. “Cyrus has someone here.”

Finn froze, his hands fisting at his sides.

“You let her in,” Mal growled.

“I need time,” Finn bit back. “You need to chill the fuck out.”

Mal’s snort was dismissive.

“Killing Ellen is the only solution?” Finn asked.

“I’ll feel a whole lot better.” Mal ran a hand over his face. “Otherwise, lock her up.” As soon as the words were out, he regretted it. He’d lived in a cage, chained to a wall, tortured for amusement. They were better than that.

“You honestly think I’d risk Jessa and Oscar?”

Mal studied him for a long time. “I don’t know what to think.”

“You have Olivia now. It’s the same for Jessa and me. And Oscar.” He broke off, shaking his head. “Putting their safety first isn’t a choice, Mal. It’s a necessity—the only thing that matters.”

“But keeping a goddamn Other in the house is, Finn.”

“It is. And you’ll have to accept it.”

“Is that all?” Mal pushed out of the chair, too tired to fight, too pissed not to.

“No.” Finn’s eyes pierced his. “Your wolves have already chosen.”

Fucking wolf. Mal glared at Finn. He didn’t need this shoved down his throat. He knew what was best for Olivia—not Finn. He’d been the one that kept her safe, that fought for her. Impatient or not, what the wolf wanted could wait.

“Don’t pull the same shit I did, fighting the inevitable. You changed her for a reason.”

“So she wouldn’t die,” he argued. “She’s been caged, mauled by a bear, and bitten by me. Now I’m supposed to see her hurt again?”

Finn shook his head, but there was no judgement there, only understanding. It irritated the shit out of him. He didn’t want one more connection with his Alpha. It was hard enough as it was—he didn’t want to share this. It was too new. Too special. But Finn’s next question cut him to the core. “You can give her up?”

Mal stared at him. Because giving her up would hurt a hell of a lot more than making her his mate.

Finn held his hands up. “Jessa made me whole. How’s that for touchy-feely crap?”

Mal shook his head. “Bad.”

Finn grinned. “Just tell her the truth, make her understand what’s going to happen if she decides to go through with it. Nothing pisses Jessa off more than my trying to make decisions for her. My mark hurt Jessa—and gutted me. But it bonded us together. And it’s—good.” He shrugged. “Chances are you’d go through her pain, her bite, the same as she’ll experience yours. Talk to her.”

Talk to her. Because he had such a way with words. How was anything he said going to make this easier?

Finn cleared his throat. “Hollis hypothesizes that using a condom would prevent the bond—if that’s what you’re trying to delay.”

“Hypothesizes?” Mal snorted. “That a condom will prevent pregnancy and werewolf bonding. Didn’t see that on the box anywhere.” Not that it changed anything. It wasn’t about sex, it was about claiming her—hurting her. “Are we done?”

“No. Consider the distraction this provides. You fighting your wolf? I know how that is. It can be dangerous for you, her, and the pack.” Finn’s eyes bored into his.

Mal nodded, digesting Finn’s words and the wolf’s excitement.

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

Finn was his oldest friend. Yes, things had been hard since the change, but Finn was still Finn. Mal had never kept secrets from his friend. Keeping them from his Alpha was damn near impossible. He sighed. “Olivia has a brother. He’s supplying something to the Others, something he screwed up. They took Olivia to get even.”

Finn frowned. “What is he supplying?”

“Dolls?” Mal ran a hand over his face, making no effort to hide his disbelief. “She said he mentioned some sort of high-dollar collectible thing.”

“They talked? She’s met Cyrus?”

“He sort of forced them into an awkward dinner.” And the thought of her sitting across from Cyrus, those damn soulless eyes looking her over, unhinged something deep inside of Mal. He was done talking. Since he’d found her, he’d barely left her side. Now thoughts of Cyrus crowded in—he needed to get back to Olivia.

“Dolls?” Finn repeated, his skepticism mirroring Mal’s.

He shrugged, heading toward the door. “Ask her.”

Finn yawned. “We’ll talk later.”

Mal nodded, heading out of the room and down the hall to his room. Olivia wasn’t there. He pushed into the bathroom, the door hitting the wall. No Olivia. His chest hurt. There was no fucking way Cyrus had taken her—his brain knew that. But his wolf had allowed fear to creep in, and they were slipping into full-blown panic mode. He closed his eyes, concentrated on his breathing, and waited for his heart rate to slow. She was here, somewhere. Finn was right, he needed to relax. But the wolf fought back, and he fought dirty.

Find Olivia. Then relax.

She wasn’t safe, in their room. But she was here, safe.

Where was Ellen?

The wolf won. Mal’s heart kicked up, alarm flooding his blood. He stood in the hall outside their room, seeking her scent. He almost ran down the hall to the kitchen.

“This is so good.” Olivia licked her fingers, perched on the edge of a stool without a care in the world.

He could breathe again.

“You seemed to like the apple so I figured you’d like the pie.” Anders was leaning against the counter, smiling at Olivia.

He wanted to knock the smile off Anders’s face, but Olivia distracted him.

“Mmm,” Olivia agreed. Her Mmm did things to Mal.

Anders chuckled. “You got some there.” He waved a finger at her nose.

Mal held his breath, hoping Anders didn’t make the serious mistake of touching her. Then he sighed. I have totally lost control.

“It’s going to be the last one for a while. My ankles swell if I’m on my feet too long,” Jessa said, seated in a rocker before the fire, Oscar asleep in her arms.

Oscar had grown.

“You tell me how to make it, I’m game.” Olivia took another bite and moaned, demanding his attention. “This is so good.”

“You said that already,” Mal snapped, entirely focused on the silver prongs of that fork sliding between her lips. She had to stop making that sound. Now.

“Mal, give me a hand?” Jessa asked him. “He sleeps, I sleep.” She smiled down at Oscar.

Mal glared at Anders and went to help Jessa. She seemed more fragile than ever, too little to be so top-heavy. For the first time, he understood Finn’s worry. Jessa was important to the pack, but she was everything to Finn. As her mate, he’d do whatever he could to keep her alive and healthy, even let one of the Others in with the pack. Not that Mal believed Ellen could do that. She was more likely to kill them all in their sleep. But if that was the plan, why hadn’t she done that already?

“You okay?” Jessa asked, squeezing his arm.

Mal nodded, trying to shove thoughts of Ellen aside. Finn told him the bitch was off-limits. He had to listen.

“Thank you.” Jessa laughed. “I like her, Mal. A lot.”

“Think you can make it to your room?” Mal asked, eyeing her stomach.

She frowned. “I could always roll my way to my room.”

He chuckled.

“You sure you want to leave her alone with Anders?” Jessa asked, smiling.

Mal scowled.

“I was teasing, Mal.” She sighed. “I’m going to bed, without help.” She waved at him and carried Oscar down the hall. He stared after her, watching over his Alpha’s mate despite her teasing dismissal.

“Mal,” Olivia called. He turned to find her smiling at him. “You have to have some pie.”

He walked across the room, trying not to glare at Anders. She was fine, enjoying her pie, talking to Jessa. And Anders. Damn Anders. He didn’t want pie.

“You look a little tense,” Anders said, grinning.

Olivia glanced at him. “Are you tense?”

He sighed.

Anders grin grew. “Doubt he’ll say as much. He’s not one for a lot of chit-chat.”

“I’ve noticed,” Olivia agreed. She scooped up a piece of pie and offered Mal a bite. “Here.” She was staring at his mouth, the fork shaking in her hand.

He grinned, grabbing her wrist and eating the bite. “It is good,” he said.

Olivia wriggled her hand free. “Hungry?” she asked.

“Yes.” He stared at her, knowing he was playing with fire but unable to stop. No matter how hard he wanted to talk his wolf down, to buy more time, he seemed set on a one-way track.

Destination Olivia.

She paused, her hazel gaze focused on him. “Wh-what do you want?”

He arched a brow, a slow, lazy smile taking hold. She asked for it.

“On that note, I think I’ll take the rest of the pie to the guys in the lab.” Anders chuckled, carrying the pie out with him.

Mal ignored him, enjoying the flush of Olivia’s cheeks and the pounding of her heart. That she wanted him, wanted to be his mate, took his fucking breath away. Pathetic, but true.

“The whole pie?” Finn asked in the hall as Anders brushed past him.

“It’s not for me,” Anders argued, never slowing. “Getting a little hot in the kitchen. Fair warning. Besides, Jessa’s heading to bed already.”

“She read my mind.” Finn’s words carried, the sound of a door closing echoing down the hall.

They were alone. Finally. He didn’t know if this was a good thing or a bad thing. But having those big hazel eyes look at him, full of all the things she shouldn’t feel for him, could only be good.

“Olivia.” He took the fork from her hand. “We need to talk.”

She frowned, shaking her head. “Are you sure? You’re tense. I mean, we could eat pie and go to bed. Anders said there’s a cherry pie in the refrigerator. Now that the whole full moon thing is over, there’s nothing urgent. Except I’m hungry. Really hungry.” She paused, studying him. “Or is there? Is that it? Is something else going to happen?”

He stared at her, stroking her long auburn hair from her shoulder. He ran his knuckles along her jaw. So soft. A whisper was all he could manage. “Only if you want it to.”

...

A flare of nerves settled in the pit of Olivia’s stomach. He was worried. Angry. Frustrated. Impatient. All normal for Mal. But not worry. If Mal was worried, she should worry. “What is it?” she whispered back.

He didn’t say anything. Those big brown eyes stayed fixed on her, intense and troubled.

“You’re sort of freaking me out, Mal.” Her voice wavered.

He ran a hand along the back of his neck, stared up at the ceiling, and rolled his head. When he spoke, his voice was gruff and low. “Finn has a scar on his stomach, a puncture wound from the bone that infected him. Jessa has the same scar.” He paused. “Because she’s his mate.”

A bond Olivia was in awe of. There was no denying Finn’s total adoration and devotion to Jessa, or Jessa’s love and respect for him.

“She felt it happen, the wound—lived through it.” He cleared his throat. “It’s how we—a wolf—bonds.”

Olivia went completely still. His words, their meaning, left her reeling.

“Now, no matter what, they’re stuck together. No leaving, no moving on. Even when he’s an ass and she knows she could do better. There’s no one else. Not ever.” He glanced at her, then away, his jaw clenched tight.

She couldn’t look away. “Are you warning me?”

His gaze returned to her, the slight flare of his nostrils answer enough.

He was warning her. “Why?” Don’t hope. Don’t hope.

“So you understand…” The anguish in his voice squeezed her heart. “We can’t do this. I can’t hurt you.”

Her pulse was racing then. “Losing you is the only way that could happen. I want this.”

His gaze didn’t waver.

“You, Mal. Us.” She wanted to touch him, to remind him of the connection they already shared.

He stared at the ceiling again, his jaw muscle ticking in agitation. “It’s not that easy.”

“You don’t want me as your mate?” It was hard to get the question out.

He looked at her then. “I do.”

She’d expected resistance, a fight, something. She was speechless—and confused.

“Finn—” He broke off, the uneven rise and fall of his chest giving away his internal struggle. “His first shift was bad. All his wolf wanted was to kill. I held on to a tree limb, trying to pull myself up while he tore through my Achilles tendon and severed the muscle from bone. Anders, Dante, then Hollis. I bled out. I’d never known that sort of pain.” He shook his head. “And woke up to an ugly world.”

She could piece together images, pulling from the snippets she and Mal had shared during the bite. So much fear and pain, confusion and terror, left her shivering. Finn was their friend, and the monster he’d become would’ve felt more nightmare than real.

“I know how to live in that world.” He ground out the words. “I know pain. You shouldn’t.”

“Mal?”

His hands gripped her shoulders. “Then you show up. And every fucking step of the way you make me want more.”

“More?” she asked. “Of me?”

“Tell me to stop, Olivia. If you don’t tell me, I can’t.”

She shook her head.

His hands tangled in her hair, tugging her head back as his lips parted hers and he pressed her against the wall. Wicked, teasing, and stroking, his tongue stole her breath and left her on unsteady legs. It was good, molten and alive—he made her feel alive.

She tugged his shirt free from the waist of his jeans, her fingertips sliding across the thick muscles of his broad back. Her nails scored his skin as his teeth nipped her earlobe. He arched into her touch, his hands clasping her hips and lifting her against him.

Instinct took over, guiding her hands and mouth. Wrapping her legs around his waist made him groan. Sucking the skin at the base of his neck made him shudder. And kissing him, his breath and tongue teasing her into a frenzy, left them both panting.

They were moving, then, bouncing off the couch, crashing into the coffee table, finally stumbling down the hall to their room. She felt his smile against her mouth and bit his bottom lip. He groaned, kicking the door shut behind them. His hands were in her hair, bowing her head back. “Dammit,” he whispered against her neck.

His hunger was empowering, stirring her confidence—her wolf’s confidence—and making her bold. She yanked his shirt up and off, running her hands down his chest. She watched his stomach muscles quiver at the stroke of her finger—tracing the dark line of hair down his rock-hard abs to the button of his jeans. He was all sculpted muscle, reacting to her. She inspected every edge and angle, bending her head to kiss his skin, marveling that this big, powerful man wanted her.

“Olivia,” he ground out, leaning forward while she clung to him.

The mattress sank beneath her, his weight heavy and delicious. Nothing compared to having him crushed close to her, nothing. Learning his body, hearing his muffled moan, his growl—he consumed her. The urge to touch him, to taste every inch of exposed skin, made everything else fade away.

His hands slid along her sides, forcing her arms up and her shirt off. His gaze brushed the line of her shoulder, dip of her collarbone, and valley between her breasts. Her pants slid down her hips, tugged free by the man above her. Watching his reaction to her was mesmerizing. He was just as lost in her as she was in him. Maybe.

He slid to her side, leaning across her to kiss her stomach. His tongue dipped into her belly button and licked its way to her hip. Teeth nipped, lips sucked, and his hand brushed between her legs. She opened for him, her hunger more powerful than embarrassment or hesitation. It was a physical craving.

He traced the scar on her thigh and the uneven ridge from the bear. His kiss was soft and sweet. The scar ended above her knee and began again at her ankle. When Mal had bitten her, he’d been careful to let go of her thigh. But when the bear turned desperate, he’d dragged her by the ankle, leaving starburst puncture marks with radiating lines. Seeing her body so mangled wasn’t easy. The scars looked old and faded, but they were still new to her. And yet, Mal showered every imperfection with tenderness.

She propped herself on her elbows so she could see him.

When their eyes locked, tenderness gave way to lust. He kissed his way up her leg, sucked the sensitive skin behind her knee, and her hands fisting in the comforter. Her inner thigh quivered as his teeth rasped her skin. His hands slid up, stroking her inner thighs, higher and higher until she was holding her breath.

He smiled before turning his attention to the throbbing bundle of nerves between her legs. Working his tongue against her, he had her whimpering. Over and over, his slow, lingering strokes made her body shake. “You taste so fucking good,” he growled. Two fingers slid deep, dragging a moan from the back of her throat. “And you feel even better.” His words had her tightening around him. His broken curse only made her hotter. Tongue and fingers, one stroked, then the other.

Without thought, she rocked against him.

She fell back on the mattress, her hands tangling in his thick hair. All she wanted was this, the building pulse that set her on fire and drove her out of her mind. He did this to her. He’d always do this to her.

Forever.

A climax tore through her, so hard and fast all she could do was hold on. His tongue didn’t slow, the push of his fingers kept pace, until she’d melted into the comforter. It was magic, his breath on her skin sending sharp aftershocks shooting down her nerves.

When she opened her eyes, Mal sat between her knees breathing hard and fast.

“Mal.” She didn’t know how to ask for what she wanted. But he knew.

He rolled a condom on his impressive erection and braced himself over her. He rested his forehead against hers, his brown eyes searching, and kissed her. The stubble of his chin, the nip of his teeth, and the stroke of his tongue led her back into sensation.

He gripped her hips, holding her still. “Look at me.”

She did. In his eyes, she was beautiful. Wanted. Cherished. And with one thrust, he’d buried himself deep and made the world fall away. His groan echoed hers. He was big, stretching her tight and full. His gaze met hers, easing her, stirring her. Discomfort melted away, leaving something hot and demanding in its place.

She wanted him to claim her, to leave his mark on her and seal their bond. Loving Mal was easy. Accepting he loved her the same was not. But here, now, it was hard to deny it. Her wolf reveled in it.

A bond. Physical and beyond.

He thrust into her slowly, his brown eyes burning into hers. Maybe it was the slide of his buttocks against her thighs or the bite of his fingers gripping her hips to hold her close. Or his scent. Or the brush of his chest against her aching nipples. Maybe it was all of it together. Her senses focused, every touch and sigh rolling over her already inflamed body.

Her nails bit into his back as his hands lifted her hips. Deeper now, tearing a growl from deep in his chest. She couldn’t breathe at all.

He moved deliberately, each stroke controlled—a battle he was losing. He was being careful with her, and it was costing him. “Olivia?” It was a whisper.

“I’m not fragile, Mal,” she gasped. “You won’t break me.” She stroked his cheek.

Her body was his, there was no denying that. She wanted him to fall apart with her, to lose himself in her with no restraint or regrets. She arched into him, so tight around him, and marveled at the onslaught of new sensations his response stirred. His jaw locked, all of him shook, and he growled, “Fuck, I won’t hurt you.”

He was raw and hungry for her, and it was beautiful. Jaw clenched. Cheeks flushed. Nostrils flared. And those dark brown eyes crashing into her.

The hitch in his breath surprised her. She reached up, twining her fingers in his hair to pull him to her. His lips were heaven. Feather-light kisses rained down on her lips and neck before he latched onto her throbbing nipple. The teasing of his tongue had her bucking against him. Hard and soft. Gentle and rough. His lovemaking was no different than he was.

He sucked one nipple into his mouth, his thumb and forefinger plucking and teasing the other. It was all she needed.