Chapter Twenty-Three
“Something tripped the alarm.” Hollis’s voice crackled in Mal’s earpiece.
“Turn around,” he barked.
Gentry did, not bothering to slow his speed.
“Brown’s take?” Mal asked.
“We don’t know where he is,” Hollis answered. “Or Tess. Jessa’s in labor,” he continued. “So Olivia’s gone after them.”
“Did Tess know Jessa was in labor?” Mal’s gut tightened. Tess was the plant. Not Ellen. Tess—too wounded to be suspect. Fucking idiot.
Hollis paused. “Yes.”
“Headed back,” Mal said. “Put down the blast doors, seal everything up. This is not a fucking drill. They know where we are, and they are coming.”
There was silence.
“Tess?” Hollis’s surprise was almost funny. Almost.
“Now, Hollis,” Mal snapped. “We’re fucking idiots.”
“Floor it,” Dante bit out.
“You really think they’re coming?” Anders asked.
“They want the baby. Hell, Jessa, the baby, Oscar, and Ellen, too. Jessa’s in labor—they’re vulnerable.” Mal shook his head, his stomach turning to lead. “If Cyrus is as obsessed with breeding the pack as Ellen says he is…”
“Jessa’s like a magic decoder ring,” Anders finished. “Shit. Drive man. Drive.”
Mal shut the world out. His wolf wanted blood, and Mal wasn’t going to hold him back. As soon as the SUV slammed to a stop, he jumped out. “Big guns. Lots of silver,” he yelled at Gentry. “Be ready.”
He started running, shifting as he went. His wolf sped up, flying across the ground. Anders and Dante were close behind, feeling the need to hunt.
His wolf scented Olivia immediately, drawing her in as he tore across the ground. There was no time to waste—
A gun shot—muffled but distinct—echoed in the trees. Then another.
He almost stumbled, his heart coming to an abrupt halt. It wasn’t Olivia. He’d know if it were. She was strong and alive and full of fight. She needed him, and he wasn’t going to let her down. His wolf focused on fury. His vision faded to red, the thud of his heart pulsing heavily in his ears, his nose sorting through the earth and must of the forest. Focus, not fear, would keep him moving—and strong.
The scent of the Others forced a shudder down his spine.
One Other in particular. Byron the butcher. His wolf snapped his jaws, craving the fight. Not yet, not yet. He slowed, exchanged a look with Anders and Dante, and headed through the ravine. They moved on silent feet, alert and ready. His wolf did his best to sneak up, find an angle, look for a weakness—but all he could think about was getting to Olivia.
Blood, so much blood. His nostrils burned from the metallic tang in the air.
Byron liked to make his victims bleed.
His wolf tensed, ready to spring, but Mal reined him in again. A quick glance told him Byron wasn’t alone.
He didn’t recognize them—two nameless Other drones doing Cyrus’s bidding.
Olivia. Naked. Shivering. Her hair gripped tight by one of the men. Mal’s wolf would take great pleasure in removing that hand.
Anders nudged his haunch, forcing Mal to focus.
Byron held a gun in his hand. And, fuck, Brown lay on the ground in a pool of blood. Tess lay beside him.
“She said they were coming,” the one holding Olivia said.
“Of course she did. Let go of her before you damage her.” Byron smiled at Olivia. “What else can she say?”
“That you’re going to die.” She spoke slowly, clearly. She was beautiful and fierce, staring Byron down. Pride rolled over him. This was his mate. Why hadn’t he recognized what she was capable of instead of trying to shelter her?
Byron’s eyes narrowed. “Are you going to kill me, little wolf?”
It took everything Mal had not to charge. The fucking smirk on Byron’s face was all too familiar. Every time he’d filleted his back, he’d looked like that—smug, taunting, and fearless.
“You have a gun,” Olivia argued. “Hardly a fair fight.”
“Hardly a fair fight?” Byron laughed, tossing the gun onto the ground. “Now it is? You like to fight, little wolf?”
Olivia scowled at him. “I can fight.”
Byron sighed. “I’d enjoy your fight. If Cyrus didn’t want you for himself, I’d take you. Again and again.” He leaned forward, stroking her cheek, then her collarbone. “But an Alpha has certain rights.” His gaze fell to her breasts, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
Mal saw red. His wolf’s control was gone. He leaped through the air, closing the distance between him and Byron in a matter of steps. He saw the surprise in Byron’s eyes, then the anticipation. As much as he wanted to go for the bastard’s jugular, he needed Olivia safe.
But she had other ideas. She shifted, chasing the dumbass that had tried to hold her captive.
His wolf was amused. Olivia could handle things. He needed to let her.
The wolf cared about one thing: killing Byron. There were no silver blades or collars to weaken him this time. He couldn’t wait to show the son of a bitch a thing or two about karma. He stepped back, wanting him to shift. Byron nodded, the condescending smile on his face adding fire to Mal’s already blazing rage.
He could attack him mid-shift, when he was weak and vulnerable. It was what the Others would have done to him. Had done. No matter how much he wanted vengeance, he would never stoop that low.
He waited, unimpressed by the defensive display Byron’s gray wolf put on. He could bare his teeth and growl all day long—Mal was in no hurry. He’d been waiting for this for so long.
Byron went for his leg, flipping him onto his back and biting into the meat connecting his hip and thigh. Mal curled, biting into Byron’s nose and holding tight. Even after Byron released him, Mal held on, crushing bone.
He heard the gunshot, felt the sting of the bullet, and his back leg gave out. The thick, white heat of silver buried itself on his hip. He let go.
Motherfucking Others. Fucking cowards didn’t respect a challenge—didn’t respect shit. Byron circled him, sinking his teeth into his injured leg and tugging. It was a dick move, but it wasn’t going to slow him down.
Mal shook off the stupor of the silver, shut out the pain, and attacked. He ripped one of Byron’s ears free, the spurt of blood invigorating. For every bite Byron made, Mal bit harder. He tore at his fur, clawed through the skin of his stomach, and tore through the muscles of his neck. He knew he’d win this fight. He had no choice.
Byron rolled, trying to knock him lose. Mal let go long enough to clamp onto his throat. His teeth sunk deep, his jaws locking in place. After the hell Byron had put him through, Mal enjoyed toying with him.
But he saw Olivia. She nudged Brown with her nose, her long broken whimper grounding him. Sadness clamped onto his heart. No vengeance could heal today. This was over now. He bit hard, snapping Byron’s neck and letting the wolf fall. He watched the gray wolf return to its human form. He was dead. The bastard was no longer a threat.
“Brown’s not dead,” Anders said. “They shot him clean through the shoulder.” He patted Mal’s shoulder.
“We need to get back,” Dante said. “If the rest of them are coming, we need to be there.”
Olivia was struggling to stand, her hand pressed to a gash in her thigh. He ran to her side, trying not to bristle when she stepped away. “They’re not. Getting Jessa and the babies was Byron’s way of redeeming himself to Cyrus.” She rubbed her forehead with the back of her forearm. “This was Byron’s plan. The Others don’t know where he is.”
Relief rolled over him, over all of them. The air seemed cleaner, lighter. Olivia was safe. So was the pack. Brown was alive. And fucking Byron was dead. All in all, a good day. Until he realized Anders and Dante were doing their best not to notice how naked Olivia was. Considering how gorgeous she was, it was damn impossible to do. Or maybe he was still being too overprotective. Either way, there was nothing he could do about it. With the burn of silver in his leg, there was no shifting.
“How’s your leg?” she asked, hesitating briefly before running her hand along his shoulder.
He groaned, pushing his head against her side and neck. He rubbed and rubbed, burying his nose against her chest and leaning into her.
She held his head in her hands and stared into his eyes. Her pain gutted him.
He had a hundred things to say to her and no way to say it. He nudged her with his nose, steering her toward the path home.
“We’re not leaving Tess here,” she protested. “I’ll carry her if I have to.”
That’s when Mal realized Tess was still a wolf. Which meant she was healing. And, good or bad, she was still alive.
...
Olivia sat in stony silence at the dinner table. While the rest of the pack was celebrating the birth of Jessa and Finn’s baby girl, Olivia was consumed with guilt. Mal sat across from her, his eyes never leaving her face. Did he know she was close to losing it? She’d killed someone. How did they do this? Cope with it?
Yes, the man had shot Mal—and she’d seen vivid red—but she had taken a life. In that moment, it had been the only thing to do. If she hadn’t, Mal would be dead.
Her gaze met his.
Mal.
Who’d left her and lied to her and made her feel whole. Saving him was all that mattered.
She was crying. At the table. In front of everyone.
“Olivia?” Anders patted on her back. “You okay?”
She sniffed, nodding.
“Does she look okay?” Ellen asked.
“No?” Dante asked.
“Killing someone is hard,” Ellen answered. “Especially the first time.”
“Y-yes.” Olivia sniffed. The first time? She wasn’t sure she could do that again. But remembering that man pointing his gun at Mal… Yes, she’d do it again. “It is. But I’m fine.”
“She was amazing,” Dante said, smiling at her. “As soon as that gun went off, she was on him. Saved Mal’s ass.”
“I’m fine,” she repeated.
“Leave her alone.” Mal’s growl silenced the room.
And it infuriated her. “I don’t need you to talk for me.”
Mal’s eyes narrowed.
But she wasn’t done. “Or make decisions for me. Or lie to me. Or…or leave me when you swore, you promised, you never would. I’m fine.”
All eyes were on them, the energy in the room charged. They were waiting. For what?
“Olivia.” Mal’s voice was low—awkward and tight. “Let’s go talk—”
“Somewhere private?” She shook her head. “I don’t think being alone with you is a good idea.”
Anders chuckle turned into a smothered cough.
“You’re mad?”
She stared at him, stunned. “That is one of the many emotions I’m experiencing.”
Mal’s nostrils flared. “My day hasn’t been a fucking picnic, either.”
“No?” Her voice shook.
“No. Once I knew you were in danger, I couldn’t get back here fast enough.” He pushed out of his chair and stalked around the table. “I didn’t give a shit about anything but you. And it scared the shit out of me. Be pissed. Yell at me. Do whatever you need to do. But don’t expect me to let you out of my sight again.” He leaned forward, his hands gripping the chair. “I can’t go through that again.”
She hadn’t expected that. Not from Mal. Not here, surrounded by the entire pack. The dam broke, tearing a ragged sob from her throat.
One minute she was sitting in her chair, and the next Mal had scooped her up and was carrying her to their room. And even though she was still mad at him, it felt so good to be in his arms. He kicked the door shut behind them and sat her on the edge of the bed.
“I wasn’t done,” she hiccupped.
“You weren’t eating.” He stared down at her. “Talk to me.”
“Where do I start? I’m a wreck. My head won’t stop spinning.” She rubbed her face with her hands. “I didn’t do anything. I should have done something.” She’d dreamed of being some avenging angel, swooping in and protecting her pack. Instead, she’d been dragged around by her hair.
“You saved my life.”
“We’re even,” she murmured.
He knelt in front of her. “Like hell we are.” Mal stared at her, his gaze sweeping over her face. “You saved me long before today. It was back in that cage, in that nightmare. I had a new reason to live—a reason that was good.”
She stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest.
“You showed me how to trust. How to believe. How to love.” He shook his head. “And I still screw it up.”
“By lying,” she whispered. Even now, after everything, it was there—too raw to ignore.
His head fell forward with a groan. “I can’t take it back. If I could, I swear I would. It will never happen again—ever. I can’t stand you looking at me like this. Like I’ve disappointed you.”
Pain edged his words, and regret. She tilted his head up, craving his gaze on her. His brown eyes were haunted—desperate.
He tilted her face up, toward him. “I’m not going to figure this out overnight. I need you to show me how to do this. I need you in my life to remind me of the good. To keep me from living in the dark.”
She wanted to believe him. “Then why do you keep trying to shelter me from things? This is my life now, too. I’m not some weak, incapable creature.”
He groaned. “You’re not weak. You’re stronger than me. You look monsters in the eye and stand your ground.” One warm hand cradled her cheek. “And it scares the shit out of me. Not because you can’t take care of yourself, but that you can. That you won’t need me anymore.” He broke off, swallowing. “I will always try to protect you, Olivia. Always. Not because I doubt you, but because I’d rather filter out whatever bad I can before it gets to you.”
Her wolf was satisfied. Olivia wanted to be, too. “Don’t lie to me again, Mal. There have been too many lies in my life. I don’t want them between us.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
He nodded once. “All I could think about is you in that cage, what might have happened if I hadn’t been there,” he whispered, leaning forward. “I didn’t want to leave you. I’ll never want to. But I told you I’d do what I could to make sure no one else ends up there. If I have to leave, next time you’ll go with me. No more lies, okay?” He clenched his jaw, his voice raw. “Forgive me.”
She had no choice. “I do.”
He melted into her, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against his chest. “You were fucking amazing today.”
She stroked the side of his face. “Today was hard. But I’ll do whatever I have to to keep from losing you.”
“Never going to happen,” he said, leaning forward. “I’ll never let you go.” He kissed her softly. “Never. You hear me?”
She nodded. “I hear you.”
He ran his fingers through her hair. “I love you, Olivia. I know this life isn’t what you imagined living, but I’ll do my best to make you happy.”
She ran her nose along his and up along his brow. “In every way possible?” she asked, her lips soft on his.
“Every fucking way,” he said against her mouth.