Chapter Twenty
Mal passed through the kitchen, but there was no sign of Olivia. She wasn’t in their room, with Jessa, in the yard, or reading in her favored armchair by the fire. She was devouring books on wolf lore faster than Hollis could find them. Considering how extensive Hollis’s library was, he assumed she’d have plenty of reading to do. Why wasn’t she there?
His agitation was misplaced. He was the one who got caught up in plotting, leaving her to her own devices. But so far, her devices had been reading or playing with Oscar or trying, unsuccessfully, to get Tess to engage in some sort of conversation. She seemed more than willing to continue her one-sided conversations with the woman—Mal admired her tenacity. But Tess was alone, dozing in front of the fire under one of Oscar’s blankets, and Olivia was nowhere to be seen.
No Olivia.
His hands fisted.
Hollis glanced up from his book. “She’s gone running.”
Mal paused. “Who?”
Hollis cocked an eyebrow. “Olivia? Who else would you be looking for? She went running—with Ellen.”
Mal ran a hand over his face, biting back the litany of obscenities that clogged his throat. “You didn’t think I might want to know this earlier?”
Hollis shrugged. “She’s a grown woman, Mal. Ellen offered to teach her how to shift—”
“She did what?” Mal snapped. Did she want to fight him? Because for every useful thing Ellen did, she did three things to piss him off. And most of them pertained to Olivia. “When?”
“I’m not sure,” Hollis said, turning his attention back to his book.
“Try,” Mal said, slamming his hand down on the pages.
Irritated, Hollis stood, hands on hips. “You’re tense. Why? Because your mate has gone on a run as a wolf? She is a wolf and needs to learn what that means, even if you aren’t there to help her every step of the way.” He leveled a hard look at Mal. “She’s independent and strong, qualities I’m sure you noticed?” He shook his head. “Acting like an overbearing asshole all the time is getting old. She wanted to go with Ellen. She wanted to learn from her.”
Mal’s anger crowded in on him, red tinging his vision and heating his blood. He brushed past Hollis and onto the porch, scenting the air.
Damn her.
Damn Ellen.
And fucking Hollis.
Where the hell had was the rage coming from? He wanted Olivia to connect with her wolf. Nothing was as freeing as those moments he and his wolf worked together, without thought or awareness. He wanted that for Olivia. And teaching her was beyond his comfort zone. Still, a little notice would have been nice.
Not that she needs permission.
Fucking Ellen.
He stared out at the towering pines and the massive peaks of the Grand Tetons beyond, reining in his temper. The cold air burned his lungs, stealing some of the fire in his blood. He gripped the wooden porch railing, searching for some sign of Olivia…and Ellen.
A snapped branch. A scar in the moss and earth of the forest floor. There was a path if he chose to follow them.
Overbearing asshole.
He could wait. Ellen might not be his favorite person, but he no longer considered her a threat to the pack. His sanity was another matter.
He stormed back inside, stomping across the living room and toward the gym.
“Not going after them?” Hollis called after him.
“Fuck you,” he snapped, loudly, then slammed the door to the gym.
By the time he was done exercising, he was drenched and weak-limbed. He’d pushed himself hard, sweating out the stress and anger. Every voice, every closing door, every sound in the goddamned lodge made him tense, hoping she was back.
He glanced at the clock on the way back to his room, his anger returning with a vengeance. Where the hell was she?
He was in the shower when he heard the howl—long and husky and close—calling to him as if she was calling his name. He tried to ignore it. He was pissed, and she should apologize for making him worry.
His wolf pushed back. Go to her.
He rinsed the soap from his face, ignoring the pull and tug of his skin as she howled again.
Now. It was a growl. A threat.
Mal sighed, resting his forehead on the tile in the stall, his body aching to shift.
“Fuck it,” he groaned, turning off the shower and climbing out. He was on all fours before he’d had a chance to dry off. His claws tore through, clicking on the granite floors. The wolf was ecstatic, impatient for the realignment of bone and tendons, muscles and fur. Mal was panting as the wolf trotted out of the bathroom and down the hall.
Ellen stood just inside the front door, wearing a tattered shirt and a smug smile. “You’re a stubborn fool,” she said as he brushed by her.
He growled.
She laughed.
He’d have been more than happy to take a bite out of her, to teach her to mind her own business. But his wolf didn’t care about Ellen or staying angry with Olivia. He tore through the door and into the yard, the call of his mate demanding his presence.
Olivia waited. Her hazel eyes fixed on him, steady and warm. With a lazy stretch and long whimper, she rubbed along his side. She groaned deep in her throat and circled him, sniffing his shoulder and neck and ear.
Mal watched her, giving up the fight. She was so goddamn happy, ears perked up, tail curled. His wolf would do whatever she wanted. Her scent was all wolf and Olivia—now one.
His resistance crumpled, returning the full-body rub with a moan. His head slid under her jaw and nipping her ear playfully. It was more than a greeting this time. A new tension rippled along both wolves. His wolf’s instincts had been to defend and fight, to hunt and kill. But a new and distinct drive was coursing through his blood.
Her wolf whimpered, trotting several feet away and glancing over her shoulder at him. She wanted him to follow her. So he did.
When she ran, he ran. She led him all over the refuge, the wolf’s curiosity demanding she sniff every damn pile of leaves or hole in the ground. Her enthusiasm was contagious, making his wolf just as inquisitive. They tore up the mountain, terrifying a heard of elk in the process. But when they reached the top, her wolf stopped to stare out over the valley below. The nearly full moon was massive in the sky. She threw back her head and howled.
Mal joined her.
Far below, the refuge wolves echoed their cry, sending a shiver down her back.
He nudged her with his nose, and she faced him.
She shifted, startling him. She’d been practicing, he could tell. Watching her long arm and sleekly muscled thigh return was oddly sensual. The line of her hip and dip of her waist…and her breasts. She sat at his side, breathing hard but smiling. “Hi,” she whispered.
Her hands sunk into his fur as she buried her face against his neck. He sat, wolf and man, letting her fingers slide through his thick fur. It was heaven. When she rubbed his ears, he groaned, leaning into her hand. He stared into her eyes. “You are so beautiful, Mal,” she murmured. “So, so beautiful.”
She rested her head against his. “I wanted to share this with you.” She continued to comb his fur, leaving pure pleasure in its place. “My wolf wanted to share this with your wolf.”
His wolf groaned, content.
...
Olivia was exhausted. She’d shifted several times, and each time it was easier. They’d covered so much ground that she’d had to shift to make the run back to the refuge. Never in her life had she been this exhausted. Maybe she’d sleep tonight without dreams. Today had been good—spending time with her wolf had been amazing. But that didn’t mean she wanted to test out her newfound bond by taking on their mortal enemy, even if it was only a dream.
Mal’s wolf rubbed against her wolf, demanding her attention. She licked his ear and nuzzled his neck. It didn’t matter if she was on the verge of collapsing in the dirt, her wolf never tired of his. The only problem with this was the very real hunger between them. The air hummed with it, their scents giving off a blatant invitation.
The wolves wanted to bond.
Mal shifted as soon as the lodge was in sight.
She whimpered, disappointed and relieved all at once.
“We can’t,” he murmured, staring at her. “Wolves don’t use condoms, and I’m not sharing you.” He reached for her, hesitating.
Her wolf sat still, waiting and watching, curious yet defensive.
He ran a hand over her head. Warm. Firm. He sighed, cradling her head in his hands. “I like having you to myself.” He smiled.
She rubbed her head against his, groaning at his scent and touch. They couldn’t mate as wolves, so she was done with being a wolf. She danced away from him, lingering in the shade of the trees to change. Her bones ached, and her skin felt raw and chafed, but she’d done it. She stumbled out on trembling legs. “My wolf wants to mate,” she said, somewhat breathlessly.
Mal caught her in his arms. “Your wolf?”
She nodded. “She’s very bossy about some things. Namely, the need to have you in every possible way.”
Mal’s arms tightened around her. “I like your wolf.”
“Dinner is getting cold,” Finn called from the porch.
Mal groaned, resting his forehead on hers.
“Dinner sounds pretty good, too.” At the mention of food, Olivia was instantly starving.
Mal chuckled. “All the changing takes a lot of calories.”
“After we eat, I’m so going to rock your world.” She smiled up at him.
“In every possible way?” he asked.
She paused, hunger for food warring with her hunger for Mal. The ridge of his jaw was hard, clenched. He did that when he was buried inside of her. She shivered, her voice husky, “How many ways are there?”
His thumb traced her lower lip. “You’re going to make me walk in there with a hard-on.”
“It’s huge.” Her fingers closed around him, loving his shudder at her touch. “You should be proud.”
His muffled curse was sexy. “Not so sure Finn will appreciate it. Or Jessa.”
Olivia let go of him, his words forming something hard and jagged in the pit of her stomach. Jessa wasn’t the only woman inside. Ellen. Tess. Neither was a threat, but her wolf didn’t care. She hadn’t expected the surge of jealousy that ripped through her. She stiffened, the instinct real—if misplaced.
“Olivia?” he asked, tilting her face back. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, refusing to admit to such an adolescent reaction. They were all adults. All the women here had seen a naked man before.
Her wolf refused to be pacified. Not our man.
Mal’s eyes narrowed. “You’re mad?”
She shook her head. “Can we go in the back?”
“You think I’d let the guys see you like this?” he growled. “You’re mine. No fucking way.”
She stared up at him, relieved.
“I’m a possessive son of a bitch. It’s who I am.” He frowned. “It won’t change.”
“I don’t mind.” She stood on tiptoe to kiss him, keeping her own insecurities to herself. She followed him into the house, crouching behind him as they made their way to their room. “Shower?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Faster we eat, faster we get to fu—”
“Mal.” She cut him off, instantly on fire for him.
He grinned. “You like it when I talk dirty, Olivia?”
She stared at him, then nodded. “I guess I do.”
He pressed his eyes shut. “You’re killing me.”
She giggled, tugging on the clothes she’d left in the yard hours earlier. “Hurry.”
He watched her, holding the door open once she was dressed. “After you.”
“You need clothes,” she pointed out, waiting outside their room just long enough to get dressed—before she tugged him toward the kitchen.
Anders and Dante were dishing out a massive pot roast, the conversation centering around the latest litter of wolf pups she and Ellen had found next to a downed motion detector on the far side of the refuge.
“Storm knocked it out,” Dante said. “I’ll go fix it tomorrow.”
“Not tonight?” Mal asked, glancing at him, then Olivia.
“You want me to go tonight?” Dante asked. “Can you pass the rolls, Olivia?”
“Yes,” Mal answered.
Maybe it was Tess’s instant tensing? Or a sound she’d made? Whatever the reason, Olivia was startled by the furious expression on Tess’s face. There was no sign of the fragile victim Olivia had come to accept. No, this woman was full of fury. And then it was gone. In a span of seconds, Tess’s face went slack again, her eyes glazing over once more.
“Rolls?” Dante asked.
She turned to the table, risking another glance at Tess. She stared vacantly ahead, poking the food on her plate. Maybe she’d imagined the change. But her wolf disagreed, Ellen’s advice repeating. “Trust your instincts.”
“How many pups were in the litter?” Hollis asked.
“Four,” Ellen answered. “Olivia found the den. Her wolf is quite capable.”
Hollis sent Mal a look.
Mal scowled back.
“You are displeased?” Ellen’s voice was sharp, making Olivia wince. She’d understood Mal’s reticence to accept the woman into the pack when they thought she was an Other. But she wasn’t. And even though neither of them knew who she belonged to or where she came from, Ellen had done nothing to make Mal distrust her. Today, she’d given Olivia a sense of camaraderie with her wolf, something she was beyond grateful for.
“Olivia’s had a lot to deal with.” Mal shrugged. “It’s been less than a month—I don’t see the need to push her.” Her heart ached at his words. She couldn’t blame him for being overprotective. How many times had he rescued her since they’d met? How many times had she relied on him for survival?
But Olivia didn’t need rescuing. She was strong. She wanted him to be proud of it.
“Her wolf is pushing. She needs freedom to reach her full potential. So she can protect the pack when you’re gone.” Her words were factual.
Mal’s eyes narrowed, his lips pressed flat. Ellen’s comment infuriated him. She knew he’d never leave her—he’d promised. But she did want to do her part when it came to protecting the pack.
“And you’re going to teach her?” he barked.
“I cannot teach her to have instincts. But she has to learn to use them, to trust them. You need to let her do that,” Ellen bit back.
Mal sighed, loudly. “I know what she needs.”
“Do you?” Ellen’s tone remained impartial, almost cold.
Olivia was right there, but neither of them seemed the least bit curious about what she had to say about what she needed. Yes, she was new and learning, but she wasn’t incompetent. They shouldn’t fight over her because they shouldn’t be making decisions for her. Olivia stood, her temper flaring. “Thanks for dinner guys.” She smiled at Anders and Dante. “I’m beat so—”
“See you in the morning.” Jessa smiled.
She rinsed and loaded her dishes in the dishwasher and smiled her good-nights, grabbing a book off the side table and heading to her room. Being a wolf meant she didn’t need lights, so she left them off as she went in and ran a bath. When steam flooded the room and the water was high, she slipped into the bath and rested her head against the edge. If she could have five minutes of Ellen-Mal-wolf-free thoughts, maybe she could calm down.
She soaked a washcloth and draped it over her face, letting the warmth ease her tension.
“I get jealous.” Mal’s voice made her jump.
She dragged the washcloth from her face, watching him.
“Up until now, it’s been you and me. We’re part of a pack, but I still want it to be just us.” He shook his head.
“It is.” She smoothed her hair from her forehead. “Me and you. My wolf and your wolf. I know you better than I know anyone. Ever. I know you better than I know her.”
“Ellen?” he asked, frowning.
She smiled. He was adorable when he felt vulnerable. “No, Mal. Her, my wolf. You have a bond with yours. I’m still forming one with mine.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
“At this point, I’m pretty sure she likes your wolf best, then you, then me.”
“I don’t see a problem,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.
She threw the washcloth at him. “Running with Ellen let me tap into my wolf, without her wanting you to the point of distraction. She’s just as addicted to your wolf as I am to you. It’s overwhelming. She sort of locks up when you’re around, lets you take charge, steps aside for you.”
“Addiction?” he asked. “I get the distraction thing. He wants to drag her into the woods and make a dozen litters. But he knows better.”
She stared at him, his words evoking something primal and raw.
“How do we fix this?” he asked. “I don’t want her, or you, taking a backseat to anyone. Especially me. Whatever you and your wolf want, I want. So be strong, Olivia. It might take some getting used to, but I can take it. I want it.”
She smiled, draping one leg over the side of the tub. “In every way possible?”
He stared at her, his eyes narrowing. “Yes.”