Her wolf was adamant. A child made from a pure bond. Due beneath the last blood moon of the decade. Her hands pressed against her stomach. This was what she’d dreamed of. A mate and child to love and protect. She had that now.
So why was she so terrified?
Her wolf growled, wanting to celebrate. This was her child, their child. To love and teach and cherish each day. “I will protect you,” she murmured, her hands resting against her abdomen. “Your father will protect you. And love you so.”
Father. How would Hollis react?
She groaned, her head falling back against the side of the bath tub.
His wolf wanted freedom. Every revelation she’d shared with the pack had driven his wolf closer to the edge. But he’d fought for control. Or his heart murmur had stopped the transformation. No matter how much she wanted Hollis to know his wolf and the freedom it would give to him, she wanted him alive more.
“What are we going to do?” she asked, seeking guidance from her wolf. Somehow years of seeking revenge and holding on to every past wrong seemed trivial. How could she be angry knowing she carried Hollis’s child?
A baby.
My baby.
Her wolf, the one determined to tear Cyrus from limb from limb before devouring him, had lost her fight. All that mattered now was keeping this child safe, bringing it into the world, and watching it grow big and strong. Finn’s pack would welcome the child as one of their own. And this child would never worry about the day Cyrus came for him or her—Finn and the pack would make sure of that.
She had one job now: protecting this baby. And knowing that filled her with pure joy.
Chapter Nineteen
The elevator doors opened, and Hollis stalked down the hall.
“Leave in thirty to eat?” Mal called after him.
Hollis slammed into his hotel room without answering. He didn’t want to go out with Mal and Olivia. He didn’t want to be social. He wanted to see his mate. Touch her. Hold her until his wolf wasn’t pleading to run. Over and over, the damn animal growled and snapped—refusing to be quiet.
“Hollis?” Ellen’s voice. His wolf instantly quieted to hear her. Wrapped in a fuzzy robe, fresh from the bath, she’d never looked more tempting.
“You look ready to shift, Hollis.” She frowned, cradling his face in her hands and searching his gaze. “Calm down. Please.”
His wolf loved the sound of her voice. The damn thing practically rolled over, whimpering and groaning at the feel of her hands on his skin. His eyes closed. “Shift? Me? Fucking hilarious.”
“You’re drunk.” She pressed a hand to his cheek.
He smiled down at her. “Maybe a little.” The scar by her eye enraged him all over again. “Maybe not enough.”
“Enough for what?” Her gaze searched his, her hands tilting his face toward hers.
“To make me forget.” He hated the sadness in her beautiful eyes.
Just as quickly her sadness was replaced with outrage. “What do you need to forget?” She pressed off his chest. “You have a good pack. Your friends are loyal. And you have me—”
His kiss was brutal, his hands gripping her shoulders as he backed her against the wall. He needed this, needed her. Alcohol wouldn’t ease the crush of fury surging in his veins, but maybe she could. He loved her fierceness. She would never cower. She wouldn’t let anything hold her back—especially fear.
She frowned at him, dismissing his display of temper as if he were a child. With a sigh, she gripped his hand, closed her eyes, and went completely still.
His skin tingled, growing tender where she held him. “Are you trying to get in my head?”
She ignored him, tightening her grip when he would have shaken her free. The torment on her face startled him. Her mismatched eyes flew open as she stared up at him. Lips pinched, hands trembling, and still she held on to him.
This was wrong.
She knew what it was to suffer—to really suffer. His inability to shift into some primal animal and vent his fury on instinct couldn’t compare. Acting like an asshole wouldn’t change a thing. Except make him more of an asshole. To Ellen, that’s the last thing he wanted to be.
He kissed her, tugging her lower lip until her mouth parted for him. The shudder of her breath rolled over him, drawing every hair on his body into the upright attention. She spun them slowly, pressing him against the wall and leaning against him. He groaned, nuzzling her jaw, behind her earlobe, and along the curve of her neck.