Page 21 of Possessive Mate

Eddie laughed and shook his head. “Like you expect me to believe that.”

Hanson stiffened. Whether he believed it or not, he had no interest in Carly. If only he could act on his true feelings in order to show him the truth, and yet he was fucked if he did and fucked if he didn't.

The irony was unbelievable.

“Believe what you want to believe,” Hanson said, shrugging. He never so much as blinked, hoping Eddie would see the truth and that would be an end of it. He was more than a little fed up with all this bullshit.

Pranks, hazing and open aggression were a typical experience for outsider wolves joining a new pack, especially the males, but Hanson had thought that time long since passed.

“I saw the two of you in the gardens the other day,” Eddie hissed at him, crossing his arms over his chest. “The two of you looked awful cozy.”

“You're insane,” Hanson scoffed. The second Eddie closed the distance between them again, he knew he had spoken out of turn. Quickly, he raised his hands defensively and added, “Carly asked me to oversee a shift for her. She's new, remember? These things are frightening. There was nothing flirtatious or romantic about it.”

At least, not on my part, Hanson thought, but if Eddie wanted to waste his time on a brand new she-wolf who acted like a bitch in heat around every senior member of the pack and others besides, that was his problem.

With the way he had been acting, Hanson wasn't about to give him any warning.

“Just stay the fuck away from her,” Eddie warned, throwing his fists down to his sides. He squared his shoulders and approached Hanson again before adding, “Or there will be real trouble between us.”

Hanson held his tongue. He had never been one to take kindly to threats, but he wasn't in the best position right now to retaliate, and so he simply nodded acknowledgement.

Pressed against the wall, he didn't move until Eddie turned and disappeared down the hall. Breathing a deep sigh of relief, he growled under his breath, “Fucking bullheaded prick.”

Why did werewolves have to be so damn territorial sometimes?

But then Hanson's imagination kicked in. How would he feel if he believed someone else was sniffing around Elena?

A shiver ran through the length of his body. That was totally different. Elena had no interest in him, and he had no right to be interested in her.

As he started again toward his room, he tried his hardest to force all thoughts of her away. There was just one problem.

He had barely passed her bedroom door when he sensed something that made him stop dead in his tracks.

What the hell is that? he wondered, straining his ears. Was she crying?

Bile rose in his throat. The mere thought that Elena was upset made him want to hit something.

Instead, he moved closer to the door and leaned his ear against the wood. Listening, he knew without a doubt that she was crying.

The gut-wrenching sobs made his stomach twist painfully.

A part of him thought he should leave her to it. Everyone cried sometimes. Sometimes it was the only way to find a release. And if it were that simple for him right now, he might just do it.

But the other half of him couldn't walk right on past the room without at least trying to help. He could practically feel her pain as if it was his own. It tore at his insides and forced him to raise his hand and knock.

At first, there was no answer, though the sobbing did go silent. He knocked again and he thought he heard a gasp from inside.

When, still, she didn’t answer, he gripped the door handle and gently opened it just a crack.

“Elena? Are you alright? I thought I heard…something,” he said, deciding it best not to make her any more uncomfortable.

Peering through the cracked door, he saw that the room was dark save for the early morning light that filtered in between a crack in the drapes.

Still, the lack of light did nothing to prevent her scent from wafting up into his nostrils.

He stiffened in the doorway, his hand tightening almost painfully on the doorknob.

“Elena?”

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