My eyes were on my mate when an east wind brought his scent to me. I inhaled, trying to find the calm I knew I needed. There it is. Hollister's scent was like a balm, until I picked out the other scents clinging to Hollister. Smog and oil from the city, saltwater from the ferry. And something else.
No. Not something. Someone else. I stalked forward, my way blocked by Branson and Nash.
"What the fuck is this, Branson?" I'd never felt anger the way the others had. When I'd watched them fight to control their tempers, I hadn't understood just how difficult it was. With my alpha side locked away, it hadn't been all that difficult, and when it was, I'd had Lawrence to get out my frustrations. But right now, with two alpha wolves standing between myself and my mate, I didn't care if they were my cousins. I'd fight through anything to get to my mate.
Branson glowered. "You need to calm down."
The dick was enjoying this. Without his help or support, I'd gone forward with the mating party, and he'd been unable to get me to do what he wanted. Now, he was making me pay for it.
We stood nose to nose, chest to chest, unblinking, like two angry cement walls, neither near to crumbling. "You need to step aside."
Nash leaned in and spoke quietly. "Aver, take a breath, man. We can't let you—"
His scent was unavoidable at that distance. It hit my nose, setting off a chain reaction inside me that I had no control over. While I was hurt and confused, my alpha side wanted only anger. And to my alpha, the puzzle pieces of today's mystery were falling into place.
Hollister had disappeared suddenly.
Hollister placed himself under the protection of not only other shifters but other alphas.
Hollister carried Nash's scent.
I leaned away.
Branson looked over his shoulder where the others waited. "We just all need to bre—"
Leaning away gave me the leverage I needed, and with a snarl, I slammed my head forward, knocking my forehead against the ridge of Nash's nose.
Instantly, blood poured from his face as the others shouted. I didn't know what they said. Adrenaline, testosterone, and pure alpha rage kept my vision tunneled. I could see only Hollister. Could smell only Hollister.
Except that wasn't true. I smelled Hollister and Nash.
"Take off that fucking jacket," I snarled over Branson's head.
Hollister's eyes were wide, his mouth open in surprise and shock. My beautiful mate who I'd left snuggled in bed this morning was now being urged toward the house by Riley and Phin. Kansas stood in the doorway as Wyatt rushed out to help.
"The kids are all fucking sleeping," Wyatt growled.
Even through my rage, I could be thankful for that. But on the heels of that thought came another. Only Branson, Nash, and Wyatt's children were safe inside sleeping. Mine had been unwillingly carted off-island and taken on a journey that could have easily gone wrong.
"Hollister, take off the jacket." I paid no attention to the others holding me back. I didn't fight Nash or Wyatt as they grabbed an arm.
The fear in Hollister's eyes faded. I didn't understand what I saw in him now. "You want me to take it off? Fine? I'll take the stupid jacket off. I was only wearing it to hide this." He framed his stomach with his hands. "What is wrong with you, Aver? I told you Sprinkles needed help. I tried to call."
What was wrong with me? Almost forty years of not learning how to control impulses that burned hotter than the sun. I couldn't blame all of my reactions on my nature, though. If he hadn't left on this day, with these people, wearing that jacket… I was hurt. But it was easier to be angry. "Fine. We'll talk about it on the ride home."
"Yeah right," Wyatt grunted. "You guys aren't planning on letting them go, right?"
Letting? I angled my elbow, sending the pointy side into Wyatt's stomach. He grunted, his hold loosening enough for me to get loose and turn on Nash. By then, Wyatt had recovered and jumped on my back as Nash and I went down. We rolled over the gravel and onto the grass. Nash got in as many punches as I did, but when we finally settled, Nash had his back to the lawn, and I had my hands around his throat.
I didn't remember telling myself to do that.
"Stop it!" Hollister yelled. There wasn't anger in his voice but fear. He was afraid.
Instantly, my fingers loosened, and I rolled off. Panting, I sat on the grass, attempting to control my temper. I didn't have a temper. Not normally. But I'd also never been in this sort of situation. Hollister had never been on the opposing side. He was against me. Like they all were.
Now you know you're fucking crazy.
The paranoid thought was like a jolt to my senses. Hollister was against me? That was bullshit of the highest order. Bullshit lit with neon that clearly illuminated every wrong move I'd taken since realizing Hollister was gone.
"Maybe you should go, Aver. Take a walk and calm down. I'll wait for you," Hollister suggested softly.
Conversely, Branson's reply boomed, "No. You don't have to go with him, Hollister. You can stay here for as long as you want, and Aver can go fuck himself on pack lands." He angled to face me. "That's what you want, right? That's where you were when your mate needed you. With your parents. Not being manipulated." He nodded as if agreeing with himself.
I didn't growl in reply. As quickly as my rage dissipated, shame replaced it. But though I couldn't bring myself to look at my mate, I also couldn't leave him. Unless I knew that was what he wanted. I could only be sure Hollister was safe when he was near. I would not leave the area without him. "I'm not going anywhere. I won't abandon my mate."
Branson stepped back, joining Wyatt and Nash. The four of them—Hollister included—stood on one side of the driveway as I stood on the other. "Then you can sleep outside, in the woods. I don't want the children to see you. You're only still conscious right now because they weren't awake to witness any of this."
Before realizing Hollister was missing, I'd spent the day strutting, ordering my father around, and smirking when I watched him scurry to obey. I'd felt mighty, but that feeling had been false. Hollister was right. I wanted the party to protect him, yes, but I had enjoyed vetoing every suggestion from my father or recommendation from my mother. It was like the more I rejected them, the harder they worked for my affec—
I was an idiot.
But I was still a mate. Getting to my feet, I brushed the grass of my pants and found Hollister's gaze. "Tell me to go and I will, Hollister. But if you don't, then I'm staying. You're pregnant with my child—with our child—and I won't leave you now. I couldn't. Not unless you tell me it is what you want."
"You'll miss your party," Hollister snapped.
I deserved that.
"I don't care. I'm not leaving unless you want me to."
Hollister's bottom lip trembled. I would've given anything to be able to comfort him, but I was the thing he needed comforting from. Branson was right. Every horrible thing he'd said about me was right.
"I'm sorry…" Emotion clogged Hollister's throat.
My heart tore in two.
Hollister looked up at Branson and the others. "I'm sorry. I can't do that. I don't—" He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, centering himself. "I can't."