Rescued by the Wolf (Blood Moon Brotherhood 2) - Page 38

Her temples were pounding. A sudden dull ache bloomed at the base of her neck and crushed in on her head. Never in her life had she felt so alone. Or helpless. Her wolf had wanted to help him. She’d wanted to help him.

“Finn has a plane waiting to take us to the refuge,” Gentry’s voice crackled again.

The rest of the ride was silent. She concentrated on the pulse in her head, on not thinking about how Mal’s body had contorted and twisted. Or the fear that she would never truly be safe again. That Chase was in danger—or the bad guy. Or that she was falling in love with a werewolf.

When they touched down on the tarmac, Mal nudged her from the helicopter. She and Gentry helped Dante make the short trek to the waiting jet.

Mal followed, a gorgeous shirtless, fatigue-pants-wearing man. But in his brooding gaze, Olivia caught sight of his wolf. She didn’t resist as his arms came around her, as he pulled her close with a sigh. He shivered, the muscles of his shoulders tensing as she nuzzled his neck. It was instinctual. Natural. Nothing more. Offering him comfort was the right thing to do. And the soft grumble at the back of his throat told her he approved.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Gentry said, disappearing into the front of the plane.

Apparently, he could fly both helicopters and airplanes. And use all sorts of weapons. And he liked it. Just one more crazy thing at this point.

“You’ll heal faster if you can shift,” Mal said.

“Silver,” Dante pointed at the wound in his chest. “Went through, but there’s traces left—I can feel it.”

She winced, so did Mal, and Dante grinned. “You want to tell me what happened?” Dante asked softly.

“How long?” Mal asked, pulling her onto the couch beside him.

Silence fell.

“How long have I been gone?” he repeated.

“Three months.” Dante’s voice was thick.

Fury coursed through her. Her gaze bounced from Mal to Dante. “You left him in that place for three months?”

“Olivia—” Mal’s voice was low.

“Don’t you dare tell me to be quiet.” She cut him off. “That’s not right, leaving you there for so long.” She glared at Dante, her emotions all over the place once more. But seeing Dante’s sadness, and the pain on his face, made her instantly regret her hostility.

“I agree,” Dante said.

“But you’re not the Alpha, are you?” she whispered, directing her anger at Finn—the one who had left Mal.

Dante exchanged a look with Mal, a look she didn’t understand.

“No, Olivia, he’s not.” Mal’s voice was coaxing, almost pleased. “So be nice to him.”

She frowned, tearing her gaze from Dante to look at Mal—really look at him. Scratches covered his bare chest. A bite covered the ball of his shoulder and the side of his neck. She ran her fingers over a deep bruise on his cheek, wincing at the blood that trickled from his right ear. “Are you okay?” she managed, truly concerned.

He smiled as he smoothed the curls from her shoulder, his warm gaze exploring her face. His gaze locked with hers, hot and bold and yearning. There was no mistaking the hunger in his eyes as he stared at her mouth, or the subtle shift of his hands on her body.

“Your mate has spirit,” Dante said. “It will make tomorrow night easier.”

Mal’s eyes narrowed. “She’s not my mate,” he bit out, jaw clenching.

Dante shook his head. “Holy shit, here we go again. Guess denial is the first step in finding a mate,” he mumbled, loud enough to be heard.

Mal’s dismissal cut through her, stealing the warmth he’d given her only seconds before. Dante was a wolf, yet she didn’t have the same odd reaction Mal’s presence elicited. She had yet to meet Finn or the rest of the pack, but she suspected it would be the same. What was between her and Mal was different—even if he didn’t want to accept it.

Accept it or not, Olivia was adrift in loneliness. Nothing made sense. Nothing. But letting her fear take over wasn’t productive. Fear wasn’t going to rule her—she was stronger than that.

Chapter Ten

Mal’s grip tightened on her, without thought. She was trying to put distance between them, probably pissed again. Distance was good. She wasn’t his mate, she was his pack. And he needed to remember that—for both their sakes. But the wolf wouldn’t let him.

Tags: Sasha Summers Blood Moon Brotherhood Paranormal
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