Chapter Eleven
Jessa set the bottle on the side table, unable to stop the slight shiver that ran down her spine as another chorus of howls filled the night.
Hollis grinned at her. “It’s unnerving.”
She nodded. “It’s a greeting?” she asked, patting Oscar’s back until he gave her a large burp.
“Finn’s saying hello.” He looked at her.
She smiled, turning her attention to Oscar. He was asleep, his little mouth nursing in his dreams. “I’ll let him sleep.” She carried him to the crib and laid him down, covering him with a blanket.
“How’s the scar?” he asked.
She sat in the rocking chair, ridiculously tired for someone who’d slept most of the day. “I’m fine. Sore, but fine.”
“I told Finn it probably wouldn’t have happened if he’d used a condom,” Hollis sighed.
A condom. She pressed her eyes shut. No condom. They’d been so lost in each other. She swallowed. “Wh-why?”
“I have a theory it’s biochemical,” Hollis said. “You and he mixed on a cellular level. I don’t think you’ll become a wolf—he didn’t bite you. But I do think the bond between you was forged because there was no…protection. May I ask a question?”
He didn’t think she’d become a wolf? Did that mean there was a chance? “I think so,” she answered, reeling.
He smiled. “I’m a scientist, Jessa.” He leaned forward, steepling his fingers and resting his chin on his thumbs before he asked, “How did it feel? Being bonded? I think I can understand how Finn might feel, considering we’re all tied together. But you, as a…non-wolf.” He shook his head. “I’m very curious.”
“I’m not sure I can explain it adequately. It’s like I’m tangled up in him? His thoughts, memories—things I’ve never felt or heard or seen but are somehow now familiar. And…” She broke off. “I crave him. Even now, when I know he’s close, I miss him. Very much. It almost hurts.”
Hollis nodded. “The scar?”
She shook her head.
“Pain?” he asked.
She hesitated. “Doctor-patient confidentiality?”
He nodded.
“It was horrible.”
“Did it mimic his accident? The puncture?”
“I wasn’t there when it happened to him, so I don’t know, but it hurt like hell when it happened to me,” she said.
“I suspected as much. Sometimes sleep is the only way a body can process pain.” He looked at her, then. “Why did you agree?”
“I love him, maybe ever since I walked into his office. I’ve been drawn to him from the beginning. I belong to him.” It was true. “I never imagined he might care for me.”
Hollis laughed. “Care for you? We only have glimpses of what he’s feeling and thinking. But I assure you, what we’ve felt is beyond understanding.”
She liked the sound of that. She smiled, staring into the fire. “Can I ask you a question?”
He nodded.
“Does it bother you? That you can’t change?”
He shrugged. “I’ve never thought about it. I remember waiting, dreading it along with the others that first time. But seeing what they went through cured me of ever wanting to experience it. I like to be in control.”
“And when you’re a wolf, you’re not?” she asked.
“Not always,” he explained. “You’re driven by instinct. You’re an animal.”
An animal. “You’re not you?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Finn said it’s like being on steroids. His reaction is faster, stronger, less cautious. Instinct rules. He’s aware but not always able to stop the wolf from doing things he’d never do.”
She couldn’t imagine it. Finn was a measured man. His life and his work put him in a place of ultimate control. No wonder he fought the change—and his wolf. At the same time, if Cyrus was coming for them, maybe Finn needed to let his wolf take charge.
The howls started again. “That sounds different.” She glanced at Hollis, the surprise on his face drawing her to her feet. “What is it?”
Hollis stood as well, his face hardening. “Mal is here.”
“Malachi? Isn’t that good?” she asked, curious. Finn would be happy. Even though he’d only mentioned him a few times, it was clear he and Mal had been close, and Finn felt his absence.
Hollis shook his head. “Stay here.” He headed for the door.
Maybe it was the look on Hollis’s face, or the sudden eerie quiet from outside, but Jessa knew something was very wrong. Oscar must have sensed it, too. His thin wail startled her, breaking off before he cried out with more gusto. She hurried to the crib.
“Oscar,” she whispered, staring at the restlessly sleeping baby. But it wasn’t the Oscar she knew. In his place was a small gray wolf, curled into a tiny ball. Small ears, small tail, and shiny black nose. “Oh, Oscar.” She’d known there was a chance. But… Tears stung her eyes as she gripped the side of the crib.
“He’ll be fine, Jessa.” Hollis patted her hand. “Let him sleep.”
She stared at Oscar, wanting to hold him close. Wolf or not, he was a baby. Her baby. She reached into the crib, stroking thick, soft fur instead of baby-soft skin.
“I need to go make sure Finn and Mal don’t kill each other,” he said before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.
It took a few minutes for Hollis’s words to sink in, but by then he was gone and she was staring at the thick wooden door. “Kill each other?”
Finn and Mal were friends. Finn was his alpha. Wasn’t he? She was tired of questions. Of not knowing. But then, she was so new to this world. Finn and his pack were still discovering things, and they’d been this way for ten years.
The wind picked up, carrying the sound of movement outside. The howling started again, breaking off suddenly, followed by a menacing growl. Whatever warm welcome Finn had issued minutes before was gone. The sound of fighting was unmistakable, even to Jessa.
Oscar whimpered, his agitation increasing as the sounds grew louder. He curled tighter, his paws drawn in and his nose buried. She placed her hand on his back, marveling once more at the transformation.
The noises outside grew more fearsome. Surely it wasn’t Finn’s pack. It must be the wolves. Maybe they sensed something.
But what?
Last she’d heard, Cyrus and the Others had no idea Finn’s pack was here. The only thing they’d had to fear was the moon, and now, that was over.
“It’s okay, Oscar.” she soothed, hoping she was right. Oscar’s heartbeat raced beneath her palm. When she lifted her hand, he whimpered and fussed.
She picked him up, smiling as his wet nose pressed against her collarbone. She wrapped the blanket around him and carried him to the bed. He lay, his eyes barely open, and yawned widely. Even as a wolf pup, he was the most precious baby she’d ever seen. She lay beside him, pulling him close against her stomach and humming softly. She ran her hand down his back in slow, gentle strokes until he eased back into a deep sleep. He was soft and sweet and helpless. He made the same sounds he always did, the same muscle twitches and full body stretches, even if he was no longer human. She rested a hand on his back. As much as it hurt her heart to know this was what his life would be, she couldn’t deny she was relieved he’d made the change so easily.
“Sweet dreams, little man,” she murmured.
It was silent. Too silent. While Oscar slept easily, she was nervous and on edge. Hollis should have been back by now.
“We’re safe,” she assured Oscar, assured herself. “Everything’s okay.”
But the longer they were alone, the more she wondered. What if the Others had found them? Was Cyrus here? Or Thomas? She shook her head. No, Finn would protect them. No matter what, she believed that.
The slight clicking on wood made her stiffen. She hadn’t heard the door open, but she tensed, certain she and Oscar were no longer alone. Every instinct told her to move, but where the hell was she supposed to go? Should she run? Take Oscar and hide?
She sat up quickly, her heart in her throat, and came eye to eye with the biggest wolf she had ever seen. Her hands gripped the edge of the bed as she leaned back, digging deep for calm and strength.
The wolf stepped forward, its ears cocked toward her, its eyes fixed on her face. It had the bluest eyes—just like Finn’s. She swallowed, her hold easing on the mattress and her heart rate slowing. The wolf stepped forward, a soft whimper rising from his broad chest.
It was Finn.
His blue eyes were unmistakable. The way he looked at her was unmistakable. “Hi,” she whispered. He leaned into her, rubbing his face along her jaw, burying his nose in her hair. She wrapped her arms around him, her fear evaporating.
Oscar squeaked, and Finn stepped away from her, his nose scenting the air around Oscar. He cocked his head to the side, a soft whimper in his throat. Jessa lifted the blanket so he could see his son. Finn made an odd noise at the back of his throat, his blue eyes returning to her.
“He’s sleeping. He’s fine.” She marveled at how easy it was to have a one-sided conversation with a wolf—a wolf whose shoulder was bleeding. “Are you okay?” she asked, reaching for him without thought.
He shoved his head under her hand, leaning into her touch with a groan.
She smiled. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She slid her fingers through the thick, soft fur.
He climbed up beside her, his massive frame dwarfing the bed. He sniffed Oscar, nudging her onto the bed with his nose. She complied, sinking back against the pillows. He waited until she was still then lay across the end of the bed, covering her bare feet with his fur. She looked at him, exhaustion seeping in.
When had this become her life?
What would happen when the real world crept back in?
They had to go back to San Antonio at some point. Her brothers—she was thankful they were oblivious to all this.
In a matter of weeks, her everything had completely changed. She loved this man, this wolf, and his son. Even if the monster hunting them made her blood run cold.
She draped her arm over her eyes, trying to block out the memory of Thomas.
Finn nudged her foot with his nose. He waited until she looked at him then rested his muzzle on his paws, his blue eyes regarding her steadily. She reached out, her fingers sinking into the thick fur of his back, and closed her eyes.
…
Finn watched her sleep. He lay, human and naked and wrapped around her, his chin resting on the swell of her hip. He needed to wake her up, to hide her and Oscar before the Others arrived. But he couldn’t do it. She was peaceful. No hint of fear or worry troubled her. They had time. When she woke, everything would change—again.
Because of Malachi. Stupid, reckless, arrogant son of a bitch.
He sucked in a deep breath, frustration and anger tempting his wolf. But when he touched Jessa, the contact instantly soothed his need to fight. At least he’d taken a solid hunk out of Mal’s haunch—made sure Mal knew who was alpha, no matter how much Mal resented it. If Dante and Anders hadn’t jumped in the middle of it—he didn’t want to think about that. As mad as he was, he didn’t want to kill Mal. But his wolf sure as hell didn’t mind teaching him a lesson.
Oscar yawned, his little fist rising into the air as he stretched in his sleep.
Finn smiled, holding the small hand in his.
No scratches or bruising, no howling or pain—Oscar had slept through his change back from wolf to baby with only a few squeaks. Finn had seen it all. It had been torture. He’d wanted to hold his son but knew Oscar needed space to shift—like he did. And while Finn felt every shift and grind, pop and snap of his son’s change, Oscar took it like a champ. “You’re strong,” he murmured, smiling into his son’s heavy-lidded eyes.
Oscar stared at him, instantly alert. He opened his mouth and gurgled. His tiny fingers fastened onto Finn’s large finger with a surprisingly sturdy grip.
“That’s right, strong,” Finn said, resting his chin on Jessa’s hip to study his son more closely.
Oscar squealed, his legs kicking out.
Jessa laughed. “Good morning.”
Finn kissed her hip, burying his nose in the soft flannel she wore to draw in the comfort he’d need to face the day. If he had it his way, they’d spend the day like this. Wrapped up in each other, discovering this new family he was bound so fiercely to. But since keeping them safe was the only thing that mattered, staying put wasn’t an option.
“Morning,” he said, his hand sliding underneath the fabric to rest against the skin of her stomach. “You’re so damn soft.”
“You need a shower. Did you roll in the mud?” she asked, turning onto her back and forcing his hand up to cup her breast. “That wasn’t intentional,” she murmured, smiling.
But his fingers were already stroking the hard pebble of her nipple. “No complaints.” He rose onto one elbow, sliding up her side until they were eye-to-eye.
Jessa’s smile faded. “Finn, what happened to you?” Her fingers were feather-light against the gash on his shoulder.
“Malachi,” he answered, holding her hand and kissing her fingertips.
“You need stitches.” She tried to pull her hand away.
He grinned at her, cocking an eyebrow. “No stitches.” He bent, his lips latching onto her collarbone. He probably should have healed before changing back, but his wolf didn’t have fingers and hands, and the urge to touch Jessa had been too great.
“Finn.” Her protest was half-hearted.
His fingers worked her nipple until it was a rigid peak. “Are you feeling better?” Because he was so hard he hurt, aching for her. Her breath hitched, her slight nod all permission he needed to unbutton the shirt and suck the tip deep into his mouth. He groaned.
Oscar started to cry.
Finn slumped, releasing her nipple and staring up at her.
Her cheeks were flushed, that hunger in her green eyes almost making him hand Oscar to Hollis. Or Anders. Or Dante. But Malachi was here.
He pushed off the bed and rubbed a hand over his face.
“Are you hungry?” Jessa’s cooed to Oscar, her soft voice washed over him. “Did all that wolf business leave you starving?”
He smiled, she didn’t seem upset about last night, which was a relief. She’d chosen him, but that didn’t mean it would be an easy transition. Watching her scoop up Oscar, her hair spilling over one exposed shoulder, made both his wolf and his heart swell with ownership—and love. He’d never loved like this. Never thought it could exist. Ever. But seeing her with Oscar, watching her smile and laugh filled every missing piece of him with happiness. And it scared the shit out of him. He hadn’t been happy in a long time, and he’d been fine. Good, even. For the first time in years, he had something to lose.
She and Oscar could be taken away from him.
“Jessa.” He stood. “I’m going to get some breakfast started. Come out when he, and you, are dressed.”
“Might take your own advice,” she teased, eyeing his nakedness with open appreciation.
He shook his head. “You’re killing me.” He loved seeing her look at him that way, wanting him the way he wanted her.
“You started it,” she said, the hitch in her voice having an immediate effect on his body. He heard her sharp inhale. “Here,” she said, offering him the medallion.
“I’d like to finish it,” he said, closing the distance between them to kiss her, hard. “But it’ll wait.” He slid on the medallion, tugged on some pajama pants, and left her, not caring that the dirt and blood from the night before still caked his bare skin.
Hollis sprawled in the large chair before the fire, dozing.
Dante gripped a massive cup of coffee, bleary-eyed and brooding.
“Hey,” Anders said, digging through the large refrigerator. “Man, I’m starved.” Finn nodded. The morning after was all about refueling—and sleep. Not that any of them were likely to be getting a lot of sleep for a while.
“Pancakes? Or French Toast?” Anders asked.
“Both,” Dante sounded off.
Anders nodded.
Malachi came in then, rubbing a towel over his shaggy brown hair. “Long as I don’t have to cook it,” he said. He looked at Finn, a mix of anger and hurt and reluctant obedience settling on his features. Then his eyes went wide.
“I’ll cook.” Jessa’s voice. “Can you feed him?” she asked, holding Oscar toward Finn.
He took his son, but his gaze never left Mal.
Mal was staring at Oscar, studying him. Finn saw the sadness, the slight tightening around Mal’s eyes, heard the harsh clearing of his throat. But when he looked at Finn, his smile finally reached his eyes. “He’s a good-looking boy.” He moved closer, stooping to look at Oscar.
Oscar stared up at Mal, all blue eyes and curiosity.
“I don’t mind cooking,” Anders said.
“Neither do I,” Jessa argued. “And I don’t particularly like being useless.”
Anders snorted. “The kitchen is yours.”
She laughed, the sound putting an instant smile on Finn’s face.
Mal’s blatant interest in Finn’s reaction was hard to miss. His brow cocked before he turned his attention to Jessa. “You must be Mrs. Alpha?” It was a head-to-toe inspection, the kind that Finn barely tolerated. When he was done, he nodded, glancing back at Finn.
Jessa looked at Mal, her smile dimming as she glanced between them. “Malachi?” She held her hand out. “Jessa Talbot.”
“Mrs. Alpha,” Anders said, sitting on one of the bar stools.
Finn watched color stain Jessa’s cheek. Her green gaze met his, the warmth waiting for him drawing him close. “Suits me,” he murmured.
Hollis stumbled into the kitchen then. “I smell coffee.” Jessa poured him a cup, putting it into Hollis’s hands before he knew it. “Thanks,” he mumbled. He looked weak, obviously the sickness took far longer to recover from than the change. “What’s the plan? Who’s taking Oscar? And Jessa? What did I miss?”
Finn glared at Hollis. It would be nice to make it through breakfast before talk of the Others and reinforcements came into play.
“You’ve got to get them out of here, Finn,” Anders said. “Last night was hard on us all.”
Jessa paused mid-stir. “What happened last night? I thought it was safe?”
Finn nodded. “It is, for now.”
“The Others caught a scent trail,” Dante explained, still staring into his coffee. “Won’t take them long to find us.”
“We can’t keep running.” Mal’s anger was evident. “I’m tired of this shit. I’m tired of always being on the move, looking over my shoulder.”
Finn watched Jessa’s reaction. She frowned, mixing the pancake batter with renewed vigor.
“I won’t put them in harm’s way.” Finn kept his voice low, but the threat was real. “I know you want to fight, Mal, but I won’t risk Oscar and Jessa.”
“So we wait?” Mal glanced at Oscar. “Until they get him—”
“They won’t.” Jessa set the bowl on the counter and took Oscar from his arms.
Finn stepped closer, sliding an arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her temple. “They won’t,” he said against her ear.
Mal held his hands up. “You can’t be serious?”
“Jesus, Mal, enough,” Dante snapped.
“You think sparing her the truth will change it? Cara? Phillip and Annie? Brown’s family?” His rage was barely in check. “Mine?”
“So the plan is to scare the shit out of her?” Anders asked.
“She should be scared,” Mal argued. “But we shouldn’t be. We’re stronger than they are. We can take them down—one by one if we have to. This waiting for them has to fucking stop.”
“Enough.” The word tore from Finn’s lips, more growled than spoken.
Silence.
But Mal’s words hung there, choking Finn. They would come for Oscar. Or Jessa. Could he expect them to keep running? That was no life for any of them. He stared at her, wanting to run, to hide her away someplace safe. What was safe? Where could he take them that the Others wouldn’t eventually find?
Jessa bounced Oscar in her arms, her green eyes seeking his as she crossed the room to sit before the fire. Oscar’s fist tangled in her hair, pulling her focus back to his son. While his heart thundered in his chest, her graceful movements revealed none of her fear. She was brave but fragile—in need of protection. His protection. And his pack.
The wolf wanted to fight, to stand their ground. But he’d spent too much time avoiding his wolf and the instincts that drove him. Turning that off would be a challenge. His hand slid up, grasping the silver medallion he’d worn for almost ten years. It had been his compass, warning him when he teetered too close to his wild side. If he was going forward with this, entertaining Mal’s idea, he had no business wearing it.
He paced the room, glaring at Mal, looking to Dante and Anders for some insight. How did they feel? He was their alpha, but this was too big a decision to make on his own.
Hollis carried a newly made bottle to Jessa, offering it to her without a sound.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling up at Hollis.
Finn studied her, the curve of her smile as she lay Oscar on her knees, speaking to him in a soft, adoring tone. Nothing could happen to them—he had to make sure of that. “How many?” Finn asked.
“Small group.” Mal shrugged. “Cyrus wasn’t with them.”
That was good. “How long?” Finn asked.
Mal looked at him “Maybe two days.”
“Small group?” Dante asked, his interest piqued.
“Maybe eight,” Mal said.
“Hell, we can take eight,” Anders said, snorting and taking over breakfast. “That’s nothing.”
Jessa glanced at him then back at Oscar.
“What about them?” Hollis asked. “Mal is right. Their presence causes a definite disadvantage.”
Finn paced again, his heart twisting at the options that spun in his mind.
“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, they can’t be together,” Dante said.
Anders nodded. “Talk about a clear target.”
Finn nodded. No matter which way he went, he wasn’t happy. The thought of taking Oscar from Jessa was a punch to the gut. He was her baby, Finn knew that. But what choice did he have? Even though the dumb shit had brought trouble to his door, Mal was right. No more running. The whole intimidation tactic had to end, here and now. “I’ll call Brown. He can take Jessa.” He didn’t look at her, couldn’t look at her. “Hollis, your moon-sickness over? You’ll take Oscar. The rest of us will wait for the Others here,” Finn said, staring around the room at the men he considered his family.
“’Bout damn time,” Mal said, rubbing his hands together.
Finn didn’t deny the flare of anticipation that set the hairs on the back of his neck straight.
“Excuse me,” Jessa said, handing Oscar to Hollis and leaving the room.
He followed, pushing the bedroom door closed behind him.
She stared at him, hurt and angry—and silent.
“Be mad at me after you’re gone,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “Right now, I need you.” His lips latched onto her neck, his hands stripping the clothes from her body. When he was buried deep inside her, he felt better. This separation was temporary. And it was for the best. He took his time making love to her, his fingers and hands and mouth driving her wild. He studied her reactions, her sounds, the bowing of her body. Whatever it took, he would protect this—he would protect her.
His wolf knew how to kill. It was in his blood. Finn would murder every last one of them so that, maybe, he’d never have to do it again.