Lone Wolf(17)

Even Broderick followed Shifter rules whether he liked them or not. He and the other Austin Shifters understood that they had to curb their feral tendencies in order to survive. Miguel and his pack hadn’t.

“Maria.”

Ellison was there, in front of her. He’d resumed his jeans, but he held his shirt crumpled in one hand.

In spite of her shakes, Maria couldn’t help reflecting that Ellison was breathtaking. His jeans rode low on his hips, his liquid, tanned skin smooth over a hard body. A few red abrasions decorated his chest, and he had a solid bruise on his cheek. The worst wound was around his neck, where the Collar had burned his skin.

Her visions of the feral Shifters dissolved as concern replaced fear. “Are you all right?” Maria reached up and touched his Collar. The black and silver entwined metal was cool under her fingertips, but she knew it had been hot and painful a few moments ago.

Ellison’s gray eyes went quiet under her touch, his gaze fixing sharply on her. “Yeah, I’m OK. What about you?”

Ellison always mitigated his alpha wolf stare for Maria, but even so, it was hard to take. Maria abruptly pulled her hand away. “I need to go home.”

After a few more beats of stare, Ellison picked up the bag she’d left on the ground. “Come on then.” He put his hand on her shoulder and steered her toward the path that would lead them back to the park. “Tiger’s going to sit on Broderick a while, so you don’t need to worry about him.”

“I’m not.” Maria couldn’t explain what she felt, words leaving her, so she just walked.

Having Ellison next to her, warm and tall, comforted her beyond what she could think. His hand on her shoulder held strength, but gentled for her as usual, to reassure rather than frighten.

When Maria had rushed into the culvert, worry for Olaf overriding her fears, Ellison had just finished shifting. His naked body had been beautiful, with the fire of the wolf still in his eyes. Now he was Ellison again, soothing her, helping her.

Olaf, as a bear cub, scampered ahead of them then ran back, circling their legs, enjoying himself. His clothes and things were in Maria’s bag, but Olaf showed no sign of wanting to change back to a human boy.

They walked back across the ridge and down to the park, Ellison’s hand steadying her. A few humans they passed did a double-take at the polar bear cub romping after butterflies, though most people who used this park knew that it lay close to Shiftertown and had grown used to Maria walking with cubs out here.

Ellison was silent as they wound through the park and walked down the few blocks to Shiftertown. Olaf ran ahead of them through the open gates. He spied another cub in a yard down the street and charged to him, the little wolf rising to meet him.

Maria started a few steps after Olaf, but a Shifter woman came out onto her porch, laughing at the two cubs, and calling a greeting to Olaf. Everyone knew Olaf, and everyone liked him. Olaf and the wolf started a mock wrestling match, Olaf none the worse for his ordeal.

Ellison pulled Maria to a halt in the shade of a tall live oak, the tree screening them from most of the houses. His fingers were warm on her shoulder, but firm. He wanted her to stay there.

“You had a flashback in that culvert, didn’t you?” Ellison watched her, knowing the truth, but willing her to tell him.

Maria evaded his gaze. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I think you need to talk about it a little.” Ellison touched her chin. “You know you don’t need to be afraid anymore, Maria. No one will hurt you, or make you do anything you don’t want to. And not just because the Morrisseys say so. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’ll break all their fingers if they even try.”

He meant it. She’d seen how he’d been with Broderick last night—ready to kill the other wolf. But Maria could never know what to say to Ellison when he was being gentle and helpful. The only thing she could think of was, “You are all so kind to me.”

“Hey, it’s not kindness, sweetheart. At least not from me.” Ellison’s touch went to her cheek, the caress light.

Warmth spread down through her chest. Maria tried to speak, to explain, but her lips couldn’t form the words. She still struggled to think in English, and Ellison didn’t know much Spanish.

“You’re here, Maria. Safe.” Ellison traced her cheek, increasing the warmth. “Not in the dark anymore. You don’t need to be afraid. And if you are afraid, you come to me.”

Maria managed a smile. “And you’ll make it all better?”

“I want to.”

He leaned closer, and Maria’s back met the bole of the big tree. Ellison smelled of sweat and a small bite of blood, and of himself. The feral Shifters—all of them—had always stank. Ellison smelled of warmth and goodness.