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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 acr
oss 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.
