He had very few memories of that day. Snippets of the attack. Sounds, tastes, smells… He’d been beyond control. They all had when they’d changed the first time. He’d seen the scar on Dante’s arm, knew it had forced Dante’s first change to last a week—just so his body could heal.
Finn glanced at Oscar, staring up at Jessa. Would she be safe tonight? Or should he make Hollis watch over Oscar? As much as he wanted to believe Oscar wasn’t a threat to Jessa, there were no guarantees. He couldn’t risk losing both of them.
“I have a heart arrhythmia. I believe it makes the change dormant,” Hollis said. “I carry the infection. My blood is just like theirs under a microscope. Instead of turning into a wolf, I run a fever, suffer chest pain and shortness of breath, throw up blood, pass-out, and generally feel like hell for twenty-four to thirty-six hours.”
“Oh.” Jessa’s sympathy was visible. Finn had to agree. He wasn’t thrilled that he was ruled by the moon, but he thought Hollis had the worst of it. “And if you treat the arrhythmia”
“I change.” Hollis shook his head.
“So he has no interest in treating it,” Dante said.
“Can you blame him?” Finn asked.
Dante shrugged. “It’s not all bad. I’d rather be hunting something down that fainting like a girl.” He grinned at Hollis before asking, “Speaking of girls. How are you feeling, Jessa?”
Finn glanced at Dante, noting the smile on his face—and Ander’s and Hollis’s. He sighed.
“Oh, and, welcome to the family,” Anders said. “Glad Finn’s decided to keep you. If he didn’t, Dante and I were planning to—”
“Stop now.” His tone was short and hard.
“I’m glad, too,” she said. “Thank you. And thank you for taking care of Oscar. Now, anyone hungry?”
“You shouldn’t be cooking,” Hollis argued. “You should be resting.”
Anders laughed. “Long night?”
Dante grinned. “Guess you still know how to let the wolf take charge after all, eh, Finn?”
“I can cook,” Jessa said, her cheeks red.
“May I share?” Hollis asked, glancing between him and Jessa. “It might be useful information if they find a mate.”
Finn looked at Jessa. Hollis had a point. Anders and Dante—hell, even Hollis—might want a heads-up that they’d put the one they loved most through agony to claim them. She frowned at him, but Finn nodded.
“The bond between them was cemented by a shared wound,” Hollis said.
Anders frowned, and Dante glared at Finn. “What the fuck did you do?” Dante snapped.
Hollis held up his hands. “Nothing. But once they’d…mated…Finn’s wound—the one that turned him—appeared on Jessa.”
Anders and Dante stared at Jessa.
“No shit?” Anders asked.
Jessa finished adding pasta to the water and held up her shirt. “No shit,” she said, smiling at him.
“Did it…did you feel it?” Dante’s question was thick. “Or did it just appear?”
Finn stared at the floor, understanding what he was asking. Dante’s arm…the pain he’d suffered. How could he do that to someone? Willingly put them through that?
“Jessa?” Hollis asked.
“There was pain,” she said, but she didn’t add anything. She focused on their dinner.
Fifteen minutes later, they gathered around the large kitchen table. Jessa’s mountain of spaghetti and meatballs disappeared rapidly. Conversation was teasing, reminding him just how important these men were to him. They were his friends, yes. But their wolves made them family, a pack he was proud to be a part of. They were here. And for that, he was thankful. All families had their shit.
By the time dinner was over, it was nearing nine. And, as much as he hated to leave them, he wasn’t ready to change in front of her.