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TWENTY
My hand was healed completelyby the time Rocco parked in the garage—though we had stopped to eat way too much fast food on the way. It stunned me, a lot, but Rocco reminded me that rapid healing was part of being a werewolf, so I tried not to freak out about it.
We were headed up the stairs, our hands bumping as we walked, when there was a hard knock at the front door.
I frowned, and looked over at Rocco.
He frowned at the door.
“You can get dressed, I’ll get it,” he told me, stepping off the stairs.
Though my wolf may possibly have been okay with that much separation, I wasn’t testing it. Mostly because I wanted to see who was knocking so late.
Rocco tugged the door open, and my eyebrows lifted when I looked over his shoulder and found the entire pack outside.
A low growl rumbled Rocco’s chest, and his arm snaked out behind him, wrapping around my waist. He tugged me against him, his arm so low it was nearly wrapped around my ass.
“Oscar is alive?” Elliot demanded, his gaze angry for the first time since I’d met him.
Shit.
I knew I should’ve told them—I kept the secret for Rocco, and only for Rocco. I did like Rocco, though…
“He’s struggling with his wolf,” Rocco admitted. “The wolf is still trying to take control permanently. He asked me not to tell anyone.”
His arm was still around my back, holding me tightly to him.
“We could’ve helped,” Elliot growled at him, his gaze growing darker and angrier. “You didn’t need to do this alone.”
“I realize that now, and I’m sorry.” Rocco’s apology sounded genuine to me.
“We’ve been worried about you,” Tea countered. “And this entire time, we didn’t need to worry?”
I couldn’t let them assume the worst.
Side-stepping Rocco’s grip (and wrestling his arm a bit), I stopped beside him. “Rocco has been trying to convince Oscar—who goes by Ryder now—to come out and tell people ever since his mate rejected him. Ryder is the one who didn’t want people to know. And for the record, Rocco was still struggling. Ryder is still dying, and it’s still horrible. You can be hurt that you didn’t know, but that doesn’t mean you get to reduce Rocco’s pain because of it.”
Male eyes dipped to my bare legs—and probably my tits too.
Rocco snarled, his arms locking around me so he could drag me back behind him. “I’m sorry,” he growled at his friends. “But I’ve got to go before my wolf tries to rip your damned throats out.”
The door slammed in their faces.
Rocco released me, his chest heaving as he crashed into the door, his forehead pressed to the wood.
I wasn’t sure whether to give him space, or try to worm my way into his arms so he knew he wasn’t completely alone.
But as someone who sometimes preferred being alone, I felt like my judgment on the matter was probably at least somewhat decent. Since I would’ve rather had someone hug me and tell me they were there than stand by silently, I slipped between Rocco and the door, and wrapped my arms around his waist.
He crushed me to his chest, holding me tightly while he breathed hard.
“Do you want me to make a joke, or be serious right now?” I whispered into his shoulder.
“Joke,” he growled back, his hands on my body as he held me tightly against him.
“At least you didn’t pee all over me to mark me as yours,” I said into his shoulder.
He snorted, his chest rumbling with a bit of silent laughter as he held me. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
