Chapter Twenty-One
Mal couldn’t look away. He didn’t want to. Olivia stood, her body slick with bathwater, a hundred drops sliding along every curve and valley. She had no idea what she did to him, or how essential she was to him. It was more than claiming her as his. It was the satisfaction knowing he was hers. He’d never wanted to belong to someone else, to compromise who and what he was. Olivia didn’t expect that—she wanted him as is.
She stepped out of the bath, reaching for her towel. But he grabbed it before she could.
“Mal?” She hugged herself, uncertain, and so fucking beautiful it took his breath away.
He ran the towel along her shoulder then stooped to lick a drop of water from her throat. One taste wasn’t enough. Neck and shoulder, silky side and stomach, the underside of her breast and the pebble-hard tip—his tongue raked each drop from her skin. He dropped to his knees, loving the grip of her hands on his shoulder, the shudder of her every breath. His lips brushed her belly, lightly sucking on the ridge of her hipbone and the swell of her buttock. When his nose nuzzled the soft hair at the juncture of her thighs, she moaned and arched into him. It was sexy as hell. She was sexy as hell.
“Tell me you want me,” he said, looking up at her.
Her heavy-lidded gaze burned into his.
His fingers stroked the inside of her thigh, higher and higher. He stopped, so close he could feel her heat. “Tell me.”
“I want you, Mal.” Her voice shook.
His fingers parted her skin and slid deep into her heat. Her nails bit into his shoulders. When his tongue licked her tight nub, she rocked against him. Nothing tasted as sweet as Olivia. He closed his eyes, his other hand cradling her ass and holding her still against his mouth. Her hands went from bracing to kneading, his tongue merciless as it stroked and teased her into a frenzy. He loved the power he had over her. He made her shudder with his touch, his mouth. Her body craved his—a feeling he understood all too well.
She bowed frantically against him. Her fingers tangled in his hair as a long, broken moan slipped from her lips.
When she swayed on her feet, he caught her close and swung her into his arms. His hunger still raged, but he was content to hold her. He was, she wasn’t.
As soon as they fell onto the bed, she rolled over him. With a wicked gleam in her eye, she slid down the length of his body and clasped his throbbing dick in her hand. He sucked in a breath, damn near swallowing his tongue when her lips closed over the tip of his erection.
“Aw, fuck,” he ground out, his hands fisting in the quilts.
She moaned, the vibration running the length of him. Her lips were firm around him. The the sweep of her tongue, up and down and around. The light suck when she pulled him deep against her throat. She tugged his hand free of the comforter and placed it on the back of her head. The spill of her hair between his fingers taunted him. Alpha or no, the urge to dominate was there.
“Mal.” Her voice startled him. “Show me what feels good.”
She kissed the tip, easing him back into the hot wetness of her mouth. She pressed his hand against her hair again. He stared down at her, his control slipping away at the sight that greeted him. Her ass was in the air as she leaned over him. His hands slid through her hair, tangling in the amber locks to hold her steady as he pumped into her mouth. And every time he disappeared between her lips, he groaned. It was good, too good. He wasn’t going to last.
Hands trembling, he let go of her hair to frantically tug open the night table drawer and pull out a condom. “Don’t move,” he ground out. He slid out from under her and off the bed, clasped her hips, and pulled her glorious ass to him. The stroke of his hands down her back had her arching back into him. It was too sweet an offering to pass up.
He wound one hand in her hair, tugging just enough to make her moan. The things her moan did to him. With his other hand, he traced the curve of her ass. From this angle, Mal’s view left him breathless. He wanted to love her and claim her all at once. So, he did.
One thrust and he was lost in the feel of her body. She was tight, and hot, and so fucking intense he needed more. He pumped into her, watching the spasms of her skin, feeling the clenching of her inner muscles, and listening to every gasp and moan. Hunger—for him—forced him on. The way she arched back, leaning forward onto her elbows to take him deeper, had him gritting his teeth. But he couldn’t wait.
He reached around, his fingers working her clit until her cries gave him permission to let go. There was no holding back. One thrust, then another, hard, and he emptied himself into her.
They fell to the side, his arms holding her tight against him.
She was gasping, one hand reaching back to rest on his arm. “The things you do to me.”
He kissed the nape of her neck, smiling at her full-body tremor.
Her passion-glazed eyes glanced back over her shoulder. “Don’t ever stop.”
The longing in her voice made him groan, his dick stirring against her.
She smiled. “Exactly.”
Rolling her over separated them, but he wanted to see her face—see what she was thinking. He ran his fingers along the side of her face, stroked feather-light across her eyelids and brows, the tip of her nose, her lips and chin. If he could etch her into his memory like this, he would—flushed from loving him. Happy from loving him.
Her hand cradled his cheek. “You’re a mystery.”
“Nope,” he argued.
“Then tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m happy.”
“Good.” Her hazel eyes gazed into his. “You have soulful eyes. They tell me what you won’t.”
“Oh?” he asked, waiting.
She nodded. “You worry about the Others. You worry about the pack. You want to be strong for them, to protect them.”
He shook his head. “I am strong. I—we will protect them. You and me and the rest of the pack.”
She smiled. “We.”
He nodded. “I don’t worry about that, or them. The only thing that scares me is losing you.”
She frowned, her hazel eyes searching his.
“I don’t deserve you, but I can’t let you go.” He studied her face. “I want to know every part of you. To make you happy, inside and out.”
Her smile was pure joy. “Wow.”
He shook his head.
“No, really, Mal.” She placed his hand over her heart. It was racing. “There’s no reason to be scared.”
He wrapped her up in his arms then, pulling her against his chest. He wanted to believe her. They were surrounded by the best security money could buy, and a big-ass pack of overprotective wolves to boot. But his fear wasn’t rational. He didn’t know what the fuck to do about it, except hold on to her.
He did, until she was sound asleep and pliant in his arms.
Even then, he held on, running long, slow strokes the length of her spine.
He should tell her about their plan. It was concrete. With Anders’s help, it would be an easy in and out—all about the intel. He might be tempted to let out a little aggression on Chase, but he wouldn’t. This wasn’t about teaching Chase he was a stupid motherfucker. This was about something bigger.
Every time he thought about Olivia in that cage, he wanted to fight. His time in that fucking basement had taught him to live in his head—a dangerous habit now. It was pointless to think about what might have happened if he hadn’t been there. She’d been so weak—too weak and human to defend herself. And if they’d managed to heal her, what then? Would she’d have been sold off to the highest bidder? Sure, she’d have settled Chase’s debt to Cyrus, but what sort of life would she have had?
Olivia rolled over in her sleep, a soft growl grounding him in the present.
She was here, safe and sound in his bed and his heart. He’d make sure she had her vengeance—God knew she deserved it.
She rolled again, growing more agitated.
He laid his hand on her shoulder, watching the rapid shift of emotions on her face. Her dreams weren’t peaceful, but she’d have to face them alone. “Kick their ass, Olivia. Let your wolf have some fun,” he whispered, wishing he were there to see it happen.
...
She was following someone. Tracking something. There were prints in the snow. Her wolf scented the air, searching, reaching until she found the den. It was silent, but she knew what was inside. Oscar and the baby. And Jessa, too.
She glanced at the fallen tree that shielded the entrance, made sure there was no trace of her pack to reveal their hiding place, then ran—not wanting to bring attention to the den. She ran until she came to a clearing.
The hair on the back of her neck bristled at the howl that split the air. The white wolf was in front of her—teeth bared, blood staining his chest and nose, and near-colorless eyes fixed on her. There was blood on the snow. So much blood. There were more wolves behind Cyrus, many more. They watched her from the dark of the tree line, silent and ready.
If she fought, she’d have to win.
If she lost, the pack would be on her.
She charged at the white wolf, baring her teeth and tackling him. There was shock in his eyes, giving her the advantage. Instinct took over, lethal and swift. Before the wolf could regain his footing, she’d ripped his throat out. She stood over the body, pulsing with adrenaline. She threw her head back and howled over and over.
Her eyes popped open. She felt so awake and exhilarated she almost woke Mal. But the sight of him sound asleep and snoring on the pillow next to her made her pause.
Everything in her life was irrevocably changed. And, bizarre or not, she was happy for the first time in…maybe ever. Knowing her father was a mastermind criminal muted whatever positive childhood memories she had. And her brother’s willingness to sacrifice her for himself wasn’t exactly pleasant, either.
Unlike Mal.
Her life with him was more than she’d ever dreamed of. He filled the void inside, where something had been missing her whole life. She felt more grounded. She could do anything.
Including fight the big bad wolf in her dreams. Adrenaline still flowed in her veins—and it felt good.
Her wolf agreed. Olivia lay back, listening closely to her wolf’s banter. The wolf was proud of her for standing her ground and confronting—and defeating—their enemy. If push came to shove, her wolf promised there was nothing they wouldn’t do to protect those they loved.
The adoration she had for Mal and his wolf was unwavering and fierce. That was the way to feel about a life mate. Mal and the wolves, his and hers, were still concerned about Ellen. And Tess…was she a threat to the pack? Olivia couldn’t see how the woman was capable of anything diabolical. And yet, she did make her uneasy. Instinct told her something was off.
As happy as her wolf was, she was also sad. Mal was keeping a secret—a big one. He and Anders were going after Chase. His wolf wanted them to go, too, but Mal had shut him down. Shut him down and told him to keep it from her.
Coldness settled in the pit of Olivia’s stomach.
He’s trying to protect us. Her wolf was willing to defend him even when he was wrong. And he was. Dead wrong.
Finn, their alpha, had told them to wait. She was new at this wolf thing, but the chain of command was hard to miss. If Finn gave an order, she’d follow. Mal didn’t seem to have that problem. How could he do this? And why? Being a pack meant working together, not going rogue. That was the exact opposite of the whole pack mentality. But the angrier she got, the more defensive her wolf became.
She frowned at Mal, who was still peacefully snoring. He was going to split hairs over Finn’s orders, find a way to make this okay. It would be different if he talked to her about it. But, no, he was making decisions on his own which impacted all of them.
And he was going to leave her.
She waited for Mal to roll over then slid from the bed. Her arms shook as she tugged on more of Jessa’s hand-me-downs. Gray sweatpants and a gray sweatshirt to suit her gray mood. She brushed her teeth and hair and crept from the room, wincing as the door squeaked on its hinges. There was no winning an argument with Mal. Her wolf was too besotted with him. And so was she. But Anders was a different matter. She wouldn’t get all weak-kneed with him, so he was going to get an earful from her.
She walked into the kitchen, ready for a fight, and came to a complete stop. Jessa was hunched over, her face creased and her lips pressed tightly together. She was in pain.
“Jessa?” Olivia asked.
The woman straightened immediately, pressing her hand to her back. “Everything is aching today.” Her attempt at a smile was pathetic.
“Maybe a little more than aching?” Olivia asked, truly concerned. Her wolf went on full alert, ready to do whatever Mrs. Alpha needed.
Jessa was pale, slightly ashen around her eyes and nose. “I’m fine,” she said, waving her hand in dismissal. “Finn wanted you to join them in his office when you woke up. Mal coming?”
Olivia sighed, shaking her head. “Still sleeping.”
“Which is harder? Having a mate or being a wolf?” Jessa studied her.
“A mate.” No comparison.
“Really?” Jessa smiled. “What’s it like? Being a wolf?”
“I like it. Is it something you’re considering?” she asked. “After?”
“If I make it through this?” She answered Olivia’s unanswered question. “Yes. Definitely.” She pointed at the counter. “There are muffins and cinnamon rolls. If Anders ever finds a mate, he’ll impress the hell out of her with his cooking.”
Olivia laughed, taking a muffin and a cinnamon roll and heading toward Finn’s office. She could hear the arguing before she’d opened the door. She stood there, glancing back and forth at Ellen and Anders, who looked ready to face off.
“What did I miss?” Mal asked, his voice soft against her ear.
She jumped, dropping her muffin on the wood floor.
“Sorry.” He grinned at her and stooped to pick up the muffin, devouring it in three bites.
She glared at him before brushing past him into the office.
“Olivia.” Dante nodded at her.
“Good morning,” she said. “Maybe? I’m getting the impression something’s up?”
“No.” Finn sighed, looking at Mal. His eyes narrowed. “You know how I feel about lying, Mal.” He rolled his neck. “As you’re all aware, I’ve fucked up plenty. First infecting you, Oscar. Jessa. This baby. And I’ve owned it every damn time. I would never put you in harm’s way. What are you thinking?”
Mal stiffened.
“Putting yourself in danger, real danger, is selfish. And you know it.” Finn’s gaze shifted to Anders. “We are a pack. What one does affects the others.”
Her heart ached as Finn voiced what she’d been thinking.
Mal’s voice was low. “We have an opportunity to get information—”
“Information? Is that all you’re after?” Finn cut him off. “Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not going to pick a fight. That if you see Byron or Cyrus, you’ll be able to walk away.”
Olivia looked at her mate, the struggle on his face making her heart hurt.
“You and Anders?” Finn shook his head. “No lookout? No backup?”
“We can do this,” Anders argued. “Ellen told us—”
“Stop.” Finn held his hand up. “We need to get one thing straight. I am Alpha. If I say we’re waiting on something, we fucking wait.”
Mal stared up at the ceiling, the muscles in his neck and arms clenched tight. If she weren’t mad at him, she’d go to him. But she was. Her wolf might want to nuzzle in and offer comfort, but she wanted to…to yell at him. He knew what could happen to him if he and Anders failed. Death wasn’t the worst thing the Others could do. Coldness seeped into her bones, smothering some of her fury.
“I talked to Ellen this morning, and I agree that there is an opportunity here.” Finn sighed. “Dante, Brown, and Gentry are ready to go.” He paused. “Dante will make contact with Chase. I need you to go, take point, and have their backs—in case something goes wrong. Not that I expect it to go wrong. This should be easy, right?” He looked at Mal. “Can you do that? Or are you too close to this.”
Mal blew out a long, slow breath, his posture easing.
“Anders?” Finn asked.
Anders nodded. “Definitely.”
“Mal?” Finn asked.
“I’m in.” Mal nodded. “We should have talked to you. It was a dick move.”
“It was,” Finn agreed. “But it won’t happen again?”
“No. It won’t.” Mal’s promise rang hollow in her ears. Finn might be satisfied with that, but she wasn’t. He’d said he needed it to be the two of them, that he’d never leave her, and he wanted her to be strong. His plan to go after Chase with Anders while leaving her safely with the rest of the pack was not only a lie, but an insult.
I never lie. Those words had made it easier to trust him, to let him in and believe she could do this whole new werewolf-life thing. And later, when she’d learned the whole horrible truth about his family, he’d promised never to lie to her.
Her heart twisted sharply, the urge to cry and lash out warring for control. Forgiving him wasn’t an option yet, no matter what her wolf—or his—wanted.
Not that he’d asked for her forgiveness, or acknowledged he’d done anything wrong. Instead of wasting all this pent-up frustration, she might as well find a way to let it out.
“And me? What am I doing?” She looked at Finn.
But his gaze bounced to Mal before he said, “You sit this one out.”
She did her best not to glare at Mal or Finn, or throw her cinnamon roll. He—they—expected her to sit by and do nothing? No matter what they said, she wasn’t part of the pack—not yet. Why else would Finn keep her here? Or was it for Mal, some sort of ridiculous “protecting the mates” thing? Whatever the reason, it hurt, and deeply wounded her wolf’s pride. She stared at her cinnamon roll. “We’re done here?” she asked, her voice hard. Space—she desperately needed space. Now.
“Yes.” Finn’s answer felt final.
“Great,” she said, turning on her heel and carrying her breakfast back into the kitchen. She wanted to run, to shift, or bite someone. Biting someone sounded extremely gratifying. Instead, she threw her cinnamon roll into the sink—hard.
The normalcy of Jessa winding up Oscar’s swing, talking softly to the smiling baby, grew stifling. Tess’s silence was deafening. How could she sit there, flipping through a nature magazine, tracing the pictures with her fingers, when the house was buzzing with energy? The pack was excited about their hunt.
A hunt she wasn’t allowed to join.
“You okay, Olivia?” Jessa’s brow creased.
“While they’re off on an important mission, we women get to defend the fort.” Olivia tried to tease, but her tone was hard and flat.
Jessa straightened, that odd tightening on her face again. “I’m happy for the company.”
Olivia swallowed her temper. None of this was Jessa’s fault. Considering the amount of stress the woman was dealing with, Olivia could keep her cool. Jessa was doing her best to act like she was fine, but Olivia suspected it was a brave front. And if Jessa could be brave, so could she. She sucked in a long, slow breath and tried to speak without sounding like she wanted to hurt someone. “Maybe you can give me a few cooking lessons—you know, to pass the time?”
Jessa nodded, smiling. “Oh good. I’m craving some chocolate mousse, and I have a pretty simple recipe.”
She forced a smile. “Sounds yummy.” It did. And, as she always was after earth-shattering sex with Mal, she was hungry. Making mousse would take care of that. But not her anger. If she was going to bond with her wolf, to hunt and fight and—if necessary—kill, maybe staying home to make chocolate mousse wasn’t the best idea.