Olivia tried to shut out the noise and listen, really listen. “She does.” Olivia handed Hollis the baby and followed Ellen outside.
Ellen glanced at her. “You think too much.”
Olivia laughed. “I’ve been accused of talking too much.”
“That, too.” Ellen smiled. “Your wolf needs attention, room to bond with you. Instinct rules the wolf.”
“I—”
“You don’t trust your instincts,” Ellen finished. “But you must.”
Olivia sucked in a deep breath.
“She is always with you. The only thing you can count on, Olivia.” Ellen stripped, talking the whole time. “You must respect her and what she needs. What she is capable of.”
Olivia tried not to stare at the woman. She was incredibly fit, her form feminine and strong and lovely. But every inch of her, save her face, was covered in scars.
“What is she capable of?” Olivia asked, suddenly nervous.
Ellen smiled. “Anything. Once you defeat him, the dream will go away. Now, shift.”
Olivia watched the woman shift, mesmerized by how easy she made it look. It was quick, almost fluid. She shrugged out of her clothes and focused all her energy on one thing. Not the shift, or her fear, but her wolf. Her wolf was ecstatic.
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.