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DeWitt’s Pack 10

Mated to the Wild Omega

Morgan Dane is on a mission to find and rescue wild werewolves

after a recent attack destroyed a neighboring pack. Winter has
come and now their lives are in danger. He doesn't expect that the

werewolf he finds, half dead in the freezing water of the river, will
be his mate.

An early snowstorm traps them together in an empty cabin, and
Morgan now must nurse Terry back to health. The younger man
can't even remember his last name, and barely knows his own

age, but he is aware of the connection between himself and
Morgan, and eagerly accepts it.

But his inner wolf is still demanding control, and the wolf escapes
the cabin and wanders right into a hunter camp before Morgan can

stop him. Morgan and Terry need to run for their lives from the
hunters who want to catch them and skin them for their pelts,

before they’ve had the chance to truly get to know each other.

Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Paranormal,
Vampires/Werewolves,
Length: 36,795 words

MATED TO THE WILD OMEGA

DeWitt’s Pack 10

Marcy Jacks

EVERLASTING CLASSIC

MANLOVE

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www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Everlasting Classic ManLove

MATED TO THE WILD OMEGA
Copyright © 2012 by Marcy Jacks
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-870-1

First E-book Publication: December 2012

Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be
reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including
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express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance
to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

Dear Readers,

If you have purchased this copy of Mated to the Wild Omega by
Marcy Jacks from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank
you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy

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This is Marcy Jacks’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect
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MATED TO THE WILD

OMEGA

DeWitt’s Pack 10

MARCY JACKS

Chapter One

A white, cotton-ball-thick snowflake ghosted its way down from

the gray sky, landed on Morgan’s tanned shoulder, and then promptly
melted on his hot skin.

As a werewolf, the cold didn’t really bother him that much, to an

extent. Right now he was really beginning to get cold, especially as
the snow melted on his flesh, turned to water, soaking him, and then
started to freeze again as the wind howled.

The leaves had long since changed their color and fallen from the

trees, and November was nearly over. Winter was settling in nicely,
but he and the others couldn’t go home just yet.

“Got anything?” he asked.
Werewolves couldn’t communicate with other werewolves the

way most people, who knew about such things, thought they could.

Only the leading alpha could telepathically communicate using

words to the rest of the pack, and two mated werewolves could
communicate between themselves.

Since Morgan was neither the leading alpha or mated to Nick, or

anyone else in the pack, they had to resort to body language, wolf
whines, and a series of blinks that could be used for simple words.

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They’d gotten pretty good at doing it like this, however, so it wasn’t a
big deal not having James, their leading alpha, around to tell them
what was being said.

Nick couldn’t smell anything, but he wasn’t as cold as Morgan,

seeing as he was in wolf form and had his thick fur coat to protect
him. It was just the two of them out here searching, and soon they
were going to have to give up if the snow came down any harder.
Which it looked like it was getting ready to do.

Morgan was looking forward to shifting back into his wolf form to

protect him against the cold, but there always had to be at least one
member of the team in this form, if only for the added convenience of
having a pair of human hands to examine the broken twigs and
pressed down leaves that could only mean someone had passed by
here. And a voice.

They had been searching for the better part of over a month, and

still hadn’t picked everyone up. There were wild werewolves in this
area, and unless they’d formed a pack, likely most wouldn’t survive
the winter.

“I think maybe we should increase the circle another ten miles,

see if anything pops out on us if we’re searching that kind of area,”
Morgan said.

Though Nick was blind, he still turned toward the sound of

Morgan’s voice, and the wolf nodded.

“What do you think of walking along Salmon River for a bit? If

there’s anyone else still out there, they might stick by the river for
water.”

Again, Nick nodded his agreement to the idea.
Morgan didn’t know how the wolf pulled it off, being as skilled as

he was even with eyes as worthless as they were.

He was determined, mostly. That was how Morgan saw it, and he

respected the wolf for it. He’d learned to rely strictly on his sense of
smell, hearing, and even touch. It was like watching that superhero
from the movies, Daredevil, in action, the way this guy worked.

Mated to the Wild Omega

Nick was especially determined now, considering what had

happened to his former pack just last month.

He used to be a member of Phillip’s pack, until he finally accepted

his mate from James DeWitt’s pack and switched loyalties. He’d still
loved the people from his former pack, and Phillip and James weren’t
at war with each other, so he was able to keep in touch with some of
the alphas.

Unfortunately, hunters had found the location to Phillip’s pack

and drugged and kidnapped more than half of his members, alphas,
omegas, and pups. Some had been skinned for their pelts, and others
had been tortured for information.

One of the many who were killed was Phillip’s mate. Morgan

hadn’t known or even met the woman, but she did have a pup, a son,
who was only a couple of months old, and that broke his heart for
Phillip all the more.

A pup without its mother, and now without a father because

Phillip had ran away to be alone.

James had eventually given them permission to start a search

party for the grieving alpha. Winter was coming, and so it was getting
increasingly dangerous for a werewolf to be out in the wild on his
own.

It wasn’t just Phillip they searched for either. There were other

wandering omegas and alphas still out there, some wild, and others
who just hadn’t been picked up yet by any pack. They had gone into
hiding after being attacked and tortured by the hunters.

It wasn’t just Morgan and Nick searching, either. There were at

least three other pairs of alphas from James’s pack that were out
searching, and their orders were to bring in any strays that they could
find, whether they were wild or not, and only if they were hostile
were any of the alphas to use any force on them.

Morgan was paired with Nick. John, the younger alpha, was

finally given the approval to go out on a mission and was paired with
one of the alphas from Phillip’s pack, David.

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Blasius had been paired with Ryan, insisting on it even though

two mates working together in the field was not recommended, and
Mick had gone with Eli. The other alphas were to stay guarding the
pack to prevent a repeat of what happened last month.

Too many alphas out on the field and not enough to protect the

land never made for productive results, it seemed.

Luckily, there were no deaths for their side. A lot of hunters died

that night, but they’d injured a lot of omegas and alphas in the
process.

Morgan didn’t want that happening again.
He and Nick made it to the river, and eventually, Morgan had to

shift back into his wolf form to protect him from the cold. It wouldn’t
be so bad if it wasn’t for the fucking wind chill, and the heavy snow
was really starting to mess with his vision.

He looked at Nick, the werewolf showed no signs of slowing

down, and while Morgan was like this, he had no way of
communicating with the other wolf without yipping at him or biting
him. He would eventually need to transform back into a man again if
they were to have some sort of conversation, even if it would be one
sided.

He was about to do just that and suggest they pack it in for the

night―the storm had blown in quickly, and it was getting dangerous
being out like this―when Nick suddenly let out a bark and launched
himself down the river bank.

What the―?
Morgan barked to signal he was right behind the other wolf and

ran after him. It was scary how quickly Nick vanished in the storm.
One second he was there, and the next there was no sign of him.

Thankfully Morgan caught up to him quickly, and he was able to

keep pace with the other wolf, keeping him in sight this time.

Morgan’s heart raced, the thrill of a sudden chase coming over

him as he wondered what Nick had scented. The other wolf did have a
much more powerful sense of smell than anyone else in the pack, and

Mated to the Wild Omega

whatever it was that he’d found, Morgan wasn’t even picking it up
yet.

Then, Nick came to a sudden stop, forcing Morgan to skid to a

halt behind him, so ungracefully that he kicked up rocks and nearly
went into the freezing water of the still-flowing river.

Morgan growled as the other wolf bent down to sniff, but Nick

ignored him.

Finally, Morgan’s curiosity got the better of him, and he perked

his ears and squinted his eyes, trying to get a feel for what the other
wolf was examining with his nose.

Then the scent shot up Morgan’s snout like someone had stuck

that wonderful smelling…whatever it was…right under his nostrils.

It was like milk chocolate, something else that was salty and

sweet at the same time, but it wasn’t just those things either. The scent
was like a something Morgan had only experienced on a sunny day in
summer, right after the grass had been freshly cut and still smelled of
morning dew. Morgan always scented watermelon whenever he came
across a healthy lawn that had been cut, and he was smelling that
now.

Then he was pulled out of the little fantasy that he’d been in and

was thrust back into the cold, gray reality that was happening all
around him. The wind still howled, the snow still fell in a thick
blanket that was blinding, and Morgan’s paws were starting to
become numb because he was still standing in the wet rocks of the
river bank.

Morgan had to step around Nick and find out what the deal was

with that scent. He had to know what it was that made his body tingle
so much, his tail all twitchy, and just every cell in his body excited for
no reason.

He saw it all right, and his heart sank.
It was a young man. A boy, really. The kid had to be somewhere

between twenty and twenty-five, if that.

Half his body was in the freezing water, and he was naked. The

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naked part was enough for Morgan to realize that the poor kid was
one of the wandering werewolves they were searching for, but
Morgan inhaled deeply through his nose and didn’t catch anything
familiar from any of the objects he’d scented before coming on out.

James had taken most of Phillip’s wolves back to their pack land

to quickly gather their things together. Some of those things belonged
to their missing, and before going out on their search party, everyone
had been required to get the scent off of all of those objects so they
would have an idea of who they were tracking.

The scent of this kid did not belong to any of the missing

werewolves from Phillip’s pack that he could tell, though it was
possible that being out in the wild for so long had changed his scent.
He could be one of the werewolves that Deacon had forcefully
transformed. Most of those wolves had gone wild, and that was likely
the fate of this poor kid, but that hardly seemed to matter. He was still
alive and breathing, despite the gray hue to his skin. Morgan
suspected it was blue, but the weather made that hard to know for
sure.

Something in him stopped at the sight of the man. It was a

sensation he’d never felt in all of his life, and he was fifty-nine years
old, for another two days at least, and he was clinging to those days
by the clutches of his fingers.

With a start, he realized what the heart-stopping, cease-to-breathe,

organ-failing sensation was.

Morgan Dane was looking down at the naked, and almost dead,

body of his mate.

Mated to the Wild Omega

Chapter Two

The storm had thickened to the point where it was virtually

impossible for them to make it back to the pack without getting lost.
At first, Morgan had thought that Nick would be able to make the
journey with his superior senses and would be able to get some help
for them.

Until the wolf had transformed back into a man and told him he

couldn’t smell or hear anything beyond the falling snow and cold,
moaning wind.

Fucking perfect.
They had to find shelter. Morgan had picked up the smaller man

that they’d found, practically in the water, and carried him bridal
style. He hadn’t put the guy down since, even when Nick had offered
to take over for him and give his arms a break.

The poor guy had stepped back quickly when Morgan growled at

him, and growling at another alpha, unless you were trying to pick a
fight, was never a good thing.

Morgan could just barely see the deep frown on Nick’s face

through the fog of falling snow, and he quickly apologized.

“Sorry. I didn’t…uh, I didn’t like hearing that I wasn’t strong

enough to carry him. We need to get out of here anyway, before the
weather gets any worse.”

Nick’s frown didn’t leave his face, though the other man looked

much more forgiving for Morgan’s blunder than he had before. “I
wasn’t offering because of that, but you’re right. We need to go.”

Nick shifted his feet, the snow making a soft crunching noise.

“Snowfall’s getting heavy,” he said. “Soon we won’t be able to move

Marcy Jacks

at all.”

“And I don’t think there’s any abandoned cabins out here that are

conveniently placed for us to use,” Morgan deadpanned, holding his
mate closer to his chest when the shivering became more violent.

Shit. His body heat wasn’t helping, and the man’s temperature

was dropping even more.

“Actually, I think there is one,” Nick said.
“What?” No way. No effing way were they that lucky.
Nick nodded. “I scented the varnish ten minutes back the other

way. It was fresh, like they’d given the place a coat only a couple
weeks ago, right before the snow started to fall. There was way too
much of it to be from an open, freezing can somewhere. We’re
definitely near a house.”

How they would get to that house, considering they could barely

see each other, was a different story. Not to mention the possibility of
it already being inhabited by people.

They had no choice. Unless they wanted to find a spot in the trees

and dig a hole in the snow for themselves, they would have to try for
the house.

The chance of building a small den was possible, and they could

keep relatively warm using their body heat, which was probably what
the other alphas were doing if they were still out in this shit, too, but
that wouldn’t be nearly enough to help the man in Morgan’s arms. He
would need more than that if he was going to survive.

“We should try for it,” Morgan said, stepping out of the blind

wolf’s way. “After you.”

Nick had said the house was only ten minutes back, but they

walked for what seemed like thirty. Nick hadn’t been kidding when
he’d said that he was having trouble scenting anything. How could
he? With the way the wind was pushing everything, they were lucky
they hadn’t stumbled into the river.

Morgan shielded the smaller man from the wind and snow as best

as he could, but there was only so much protection he could offer with

Mated to the Wild Omega

his body. The snow still fell onto his pale skin and into that dirty
blond hair, melting, becoming wet, and making the poor kid freeze
even more than he needed to.

Morgan didn’t think of the kid’s hair as being dirty blond because

that was the shade of it, but because, really, there was mud and dirt in
that blond hair. Morgan had no doubt in his mind that if he washed it,
those strands would glow like yellow gold in the sun.

The sun was a faraway dream in this reality they were in, and just

when Morgan was about to give up and suggest they build a den for
the night, Nick made a sound of relief and suddenly stopped.

“I’ve got the scent again!” he yelled over his shoulder and over

the wind.

Thank God. “Great! Where do we go?”
Morgan was so desperate for some heat, hot water, and shelter

from all this fucking wind that he no longer cared if that house, cabin,
shed, whatever it was, was occupied.

There were some people who came up here for the summer to get

away from the rest of civilization, fish, or even―Morgan
shuddered―hunt. But that could still be someone’s year-round home.

“This way!” Nick said, and Morgan had to quickly keep up before

he lost his friend in the storm.

Nick vanished in the haze in front of him a few times, and in his

desperation, Morgan nearly tripped and fell over snow-covered roots
and sticks frozen into the ground. The worst came when he stubbed
his toe against a wooden stair.

He opened his mouth and cursed as loud as he could, and not even

the numbness that was seeping into his feet was enough to save him
from the pain.

“God fucking damn it! Shit!” He yelled that, and several other

pretty bad things he would rather not repeat.

Nick’s hand reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling

him up the snow-covered stairs, even as he still cursed. It was getting
harder to walk, and there was almost four feet of snow covering

Marcy Jacks

everything.

Then it clicked in Morgan’s mind what had happened. He’d

stubbed his toe on a stair, and Nick had pulled him up those stairs.
Reaching a hand out, he felt the slightly curved varnished wood of the
rail. They had made it to the cabin. Thank you, Jesus.

Both Nick and Morgan felt along the walls, and Nick kept one

hand back on Morgan to keep them from losing each other. Then,
finally, Nick called back to him,

“Found the door!”
The next thing Morgan heard through the loud whistling and

wailing of the wind was a distinct crack as Nick forced the door open.

The man all but vanished from Morgan’s sight as he fell within

the house. Morgan quickly followed.

He had to blink a couple of times to adjust his vision. It was

surreal, finally being able to see after spending all that time in a
whiteout, and everything inside the cabin looked so comfortable and
normal.

Nick forced the door shut behind him before anymore snow or

cold air could get in. Morgan noted the strip of wood that had come
off of the doorway when Nick had smashed it open. He quickly ran to
the nearest couch, put his mate on top of it, then grabbed a chair from
the joining kitchen, and went back to Nick.

“Here, I got something to keep it shut,” he said, and Nick moved

just enough so that Morgan could position the chair under the door
handle, like he’d seen done in the movies. That should keep it shut.

It did, and it held. There was only a little bit of snow on the

hardwood floor, and some cold air that leaked through the crack in the
door, but that could be covered with a towel or something. This would
make sufficient shelter.

Nick leaned against the door, as though hesitant to step away from

it lest it blow open on them, but he did lift his nose in the air, sniffing
at least three times before he was satisfied.

“I smell people, but the scent is old. They haven’t been here in a

Mated to the Wild Omega

while.”

“I don’t think they’re coming in this storm.”
Morgan looked out the window and was actually a little scared by

the fact that he couldn’t see any of the scenery he knew was there
beyond all the white. “Christ, Nick, you should see it.”

“I have a good enough idea.”
Nick finally pushed away from the wall. “Hopefully these people

have a phone. I want to call back home and make sure Adam’s okay.”

Despite the fact that Adam wasn’t one of the alphas sent out on a

search mission, Morgan understood the other man’s need to worry.
Just thinking about someone else’s mate reminded him of his own,
and he carefully crept over to the couch and peered over the back,
looking down at where his mate slept.

The cottage wasn’t exactly warm, likely because, with the lack of

people, there was no need to heat it, but it was a tropical paradise in
here, a sauna, by comparison to what was going on outside, and
already the guy’s color was showing signs of improvement. He was
the most beautiful creature Morgan had ever laid eyes on.

There were plenty of places on him that were suddenly starting to

swell and turn red, however.

Frostbite. Morgan didn’t know the first thing about treating

frostbite.

He picked the smaller man up off the couch, doing his best not to

stare down at the man and enjoy the view while he was unconscious.
It was easy to keep the man’s scent from arousing him, considering he
smelled like he hadn’t had a bath in weeks.

That was even weirder. The arousing, earthy scent of his mate was

conflicting with the more rancid scent of unwashed body.

Hopefully Morgan would be able to rectify that in a minute. He

clicked on a lamp and was uplifted when it actually turned on. Maybe
there was some hot water to be had here as well.

He passed by a bedroom, overhearing a few words of Nick’s

conversation with Adam on the phone as he did.

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“Fine…here until the storm passes…”
He didn’t catch anymore because he was moving like a man on a

mission to the door at the end of the hall.

Ninety percent of the time, a man could count on the door at the

end of the hall being the bathroom.

It was, but there was only a toilet and a sink inside. No tub.
There was a second bathroom in here, and likely it was up the

stairs.

Quickly as he could without jarring his cargo too much, Morgan

backtracked to the front of the cabin. There was a small staircase
leading up just behind the TV. Even a cottage away from all the
hustle and bustle of life had to have a flat screen TV available, it
seemed.

The staircase was so small that Morgan could barely fit up them

without adjusting the man in his arms, but he made it without scraping
anything, and after passing by another two bedrooms, he finally found
the bathroom.

It was spacious, at least four times the size of that small piece of

shit downstairs, and had a claw-footed soaker tub.

He reserved judgement until he got down on his knees, turned the

metal dial with the red ring on it, stuck his hand under the water
and…

Steam rose up, and he smiled before dropping the plug into the tub

to clog the hole. Next he kicked shut the door.

As the steam filled the air, the kid in Morgan’s arms began to

shiver again, only to a more violent extent. Maybe now that some hot
air was in the room, his body was starting to react to it? Was this part
of him thawing out?

Either way, Morgan quickly adjusted the water so that it wouldn’t

be scalding, and then set his mate down inside the water. It took
several minutes before he stopped shivering and before the water
reached his neck. The whole time, Morgan kept his hands on the other
man’s shoulders, keeping him from sinking under.

Mated to the Wild Omega

When he was satisfied that he wouldn’t slip beneath the water and

drown, Morgan got up and started rummaging through the medicine
cabinet, and those drawers and cupboards under the sink, pulling out
towels and creams, anything he could find, really. There wasn’t even
any shampoo in this bathroom, though there was a boxed bar of Irish
soap.

Guess these people didn’t leave a while lot of supplies lying

around.

That likely meant there wouldn’t be any food in this place either.
Morgan thought about that and then about the flat screen

downstairs, and he shook his head. Fucking people and their
priorities.

He cleaned off his mate as best he could, soaping down his chest

and arms, and blushing when he made it to his legs.

When his hand ghosted over the other man’s dick by mistake,

causing it to twitch and harden, and in return causing Morgan’s cock
to stand up and throb, well, he yanked his hand out of the water.

Jesus fucking…what the hell was the matter with him? He was

mated to this guy, yes, but they hadn’t even officially met yet. He
didn’t even know the boy’s name.

Morgan looked down at him, and then felt sick to his stomach. He

also didn’t know if this young man was of age.

Please God, let him be over twenty. Please, please, God.
Morgan shook himself and then got back to work, ignoring his

body and doing his best to ignore the body he was tending to. Kind of
difficult when he was soaping the other man up, but it also allowed
Morgan to really examine him. When his hands traveled across that
chest, those arms and legs, he was able to really tell that the guy
wasn’t just small, he was gaunt. This guy had been going hungry. For
a while.

Unless there was some non-perishable stuff downstairs, he might

have to wait a little longer. There was no way Morgan could catch
anything for them to eat out in this. What kind of stupid creatures

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would even be roaming around in a storm like…?

Morgan stopped before he could finish that thought.
Oh. Right.
He focused instead of cleaning off his mate. He rinsed out the

shoulder-length hair with a cup he’d found beside the sink until most
of the mud and dirt came loose. He rinsed the hair a few more times
until satisfied, and then gently scrubbed the dirt off that beautiful face.

Morgan wasn’t exactly old by the standard of how werewolves

aged, but he was a little beyond his quarter life span. He’d never taken
a mate before, and after a while, he suspected that he never would.

He wasn’t much interested in females, but he wasn’t exactly

attracted to males either. At least, any males other than the sleeping
handsome in the tub right now. It was just something that had never
appealed to him, and the only times when he ever bothered with sex
was to relieve a building tension or stress.

Even James, who was older than Morgan was and had only found

his mate the previous spring, had still taken his fair share of lovers
before that event had occurred.

To suddenly, and completely out of the blue, find his mate, in the

condition he’d found him in, was baffling.

Morgan figured he’d better empty the tub, and then maybe fill it

up one more time just to rinse away all the filth and grime that had
come off the young man and was now floating around in the water.

He did just that, pulling the plug and listening to the gurgle of the

water as it drained. The sound wasn’t exactly pleasant, but while
Morgan had only his thoughts, and the sight of his beautiful mate in
front of him for company, it was strangely soothing.

The water was almost entirely drained by now, leaving behind a

dark trail of dirt on the bottom of the tub, and Morgan was just getting
ready to start filling it back up again when the young man he held
shivered once more.

That put Morgan on high alert, and he stared hard at the young

man’s face, searching for any signs of distress.

Marcy Jacks

Chapter Three

He had green eyes with flecks of light brown closer to the irises. It

reminded Morgan of earth colors. He liked it. He would probably like
everything about this man.

It took him a couple of seconds to note how they were still staring

at each other, neither speaking, and how cloudy those earth-colored
eyes were.

Morgan reached out his hand to push some of that golden hair out

of his eyes when the other man flinched away.

Morgan pulled his hand back quickly. Right. The poor kid was

freezing and naked in a bathtub with a complete stranger kneeling
next to him. That was definitely the opening to a horror story
somewhere.

Morgan cleared his throat. “My name is Morgan Dane. A friend

and I found you just along the river. Your body was half in that
freezing water. We brought you here to warm up.”

The kid still didn’t say anything. He just looked at Morgan with

those glazed eyes, as though he were hypnotized by something.

“Can you understand me?” Morgan asked. He didn’t ask it slowly,

since he didn’t think there was anything mentally wrong with the guy,
but he didn’t exactly speak at the normal speed he otherwise would
have used. “Did you come from Phillip’s pack?”

Again, he just stared and blinked. Yeah, he was definitely a wild

wolf. The only question was, how wild was he?

“Can you speak?” Morgan asked.
The boy swallowed then wet his lips. “I…” His voice came out

cracked and raspy, and he had to try again. “No one’s spoken to

Mated to the Wild Omega

me…in a long time,” he finally said.

This was good. It meant that he wasn’t so far gone to the wild side

that he couldn’t be brought back to the land of almost civilization
along with the rest of the werewolves who lived on DeWitt’s pack.

“Did you understand everything I just told you?” Morgan asked.
Another swallow that looked pained, and then a nod.
“What were you doing in the water?” Morgan had to ask.
“Fish,” the boy replied simply.
Morgan looked back down at that sunken stomach. Oh. Right.
“I’ll make sure you get something to eat, but right now I’m going

to fill the tub back up with water.”

The kid panicked and tried to get out of the tub, but there were

still traces of soap from when Morgan had washed him, and he did
little else but slip and slide around awkwardly.

“Warm water. Warm water,” Morgan assured him, keeping one

hand on the young man’s chest, holding him down, while he turned
the water taps back on with the other.

“No more!” the kid yelled.
Morgan would have liked nothing better than to give in to the

shout that was half-demanding and half-pleading, but he couldn’t. The
were’s temperature was still low, he was back to shivering and
shaking, and he was still dirty.

He needed to warm up and get clean.
“Not the water! I hate it!”
“You’ll be okay. I won’t let it hurt you,” Morgan said.
The kid thrashed harder when the water poured from the spout,

but then, thankfully, he started to relax when it touched down on his
feet, and he realized that the water was indeed warm on his toes and
legs.

He relaxed, his entire body practically melting as the water filled

the tub. His eyes began to sink shut again. He looked like he was
being tucked in with a warm blanket in a soft bed, not like he was
sitting in a stranger’s bathtub.

Marcy Jacks

Morgan started cleaning him again, showing those half-open eyes

the soap and washcloth and, this time, asking permission to use them.

He nodded and let Morgan do pretty much whatever he wanted

with him.

It looked like he was about to fall asleep, and Morgan really

wanted a name to put with the face, so before he could drift off, he
had to ask him.

“What’s your name?”
Morgan shook his shoulder gently when he didn’t answer.
The kid blinked owlishly at him. “Hmm?”
“Your name? Tell me your name?” Maybe that would help him to

figure out where he came from. He was going to have to ask Nick if
he recognized the guy’s scent.

The kid thought about it for so long it made Morgan’s heart bleed

a little for him, but then he finally came up with an answer. “Terry.”

“Okay, good, that’s very nice,” Morgan said, meaning it. He liked

the name Terry. It kind of suited him. “Do you have a surname?
What’s your last name?”

Terry thought about it again, this time for much longer than he

had when asked for his first name.

Finally, he released a breath. “Don’t know.”
Now Morgan’s heart really did bleed for him.
“How old are you? Can you tell me that?”
Again with the thinking, then Terry lifted both of his hands out of

the water. He held up a few fingers on one hand and a couple on the
other, which, unless Terry just lost the ability to speak or something,
meant absolutely nothing to Morgan.

“We’ll work on that one later.”
“Someone’s outside,” Terry said, his eyes suddenly going wide.

His hands gripped the tub, as though he was going to try and get out.
His head turning this way and that as he searched for the exit.
“They’re coming!”

“Relax! Relax!” Morgan said, grabbing him by the shoulders, but

Mated to the Wild Omega

it seemed to only freak out the younger man all the more. Maybe it
was the way Morgan was trying to get him to sit back down in the
tub. He probably thought that Morgan was trying to drown him.

“No!”
He was only making this worse, but he couldn’t let Terry jump out

of the tub and run out of the house and back into that storm, soaking
wet as he was. He would die.

“Stop it!”
Morgan gripped Terry’s shoulders harder, pressing his back

against the end of the tub, and then looked into his eyes. He had no
idea if he was doing this right, but from how he understood it, he was
supposed to be able to somehow…not control him, but work with his
emotions so that he could calm his mate down, preventing him from
killing himself.

It worked. Morgan had no idea what he did or how he did it, but

Terry stopped struggling against him, and he leaned sleepily back
against the tub, his eyes sliding half shut as he stared at Morgan.

Morgan cupped his cheek then felt his forehead. Not feverish. The

swelling on his ears and legs from the frostbite was starting to go
down, which was good. Thank you, God, for werewolf healing
abilities.

“Now just relax. I promise no one will hurt you while you’re with

me.”

Morgan surprised himself with how much he meant that promise.

He would do everything in his power to make sure that Terry stayed
safe.

Terry nodded, his eyes sliding all the way shut, and by the way his

breathing evened out, he fell asleep.

Morgan finished washing him off, draining the tub again, and was

pleased when the water hadn’t turned so muddy.

He dried Terry off with a towel and brought him into one of the

bedrooms.

Now Morgan was the one to shiver. There was still no heat in this

Marcy Jacks

place. He put Terry on the bed and bundled every blanket he could on
top of the smaller man and then moved to the thermostat.

It was some electronic thing, and he had no idea how to work it.

He’d heard of these things before, but had never seen or used one.
Would it alert the owners of the house if he were to find out how to
turn it on and crank the heat? That wouldn’t be good.

From what he could tell from the numbers on the little gray

screen, there was heat in the cabin, but only enough to keep the pipes
from freezing.

That would have to do.
Morgan had just made the decision to leave the room for a few

minutes to go and find Nick when the other man called for him from
the hallway.

“Morgan? You up here?”
Morgan quickly stepped out of the bedroom, keeping the door

open only a crack as he padded his way down the hall.

Nick was there waiting for him at the top of the stairs. Clearly, the

blind werewolf had scented Morgan up here.

“Here,” he said anyway. “What’s going on?”
“James wants us to stay where we are for as long as possible. The

storm caught everyone off guard from the looks of it, and he doesn’t
want anyone risking travel if they can help it.”

Morgan nodded. Made sense. The Weather Channel had called for

snow, and even the wolves had felt the coming cold, but no one
expected it to turn out like this.

Morgan looked out on of the windows, clenching his fists at the

blank canvas he saw there.

“I know we were having a hard time finding our way and all,”

Morgan said, looking into Nick’s sightless black eyes. “But you
didn’t happen to catch the scent of anyone else following us, did
you?”

Nick cocked his head, frowning as he thought. “No. I’m sure we

were alone. Why?”

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Morgan pointed behind him with his thumb to the bedroom where

Terry was sleeping. “He flipped out there for a minute. Tried telling
me someone was outside.”

Again, Nick frowned, but he wasn’t about to take words like that

lightly. “I doubt anyone would be out in that if they could help it, but
I’ll check it out.”

Morgan stiffened, and Nick seemed to sense the change in his

body language in that strange way he did. “I won’t leave the porch.
I’m already blind, so I doubt I can get turned around as easily as you
would,” he said. “I’ll stick by the house and be back inside in five
minutes. Sooner than that if I can smell anyone else.”

From the tone in his voice, it sounded like Nick didn’t expect to

scent anything at all. Whether because of the storm blowing away all
the smells of the area around them or because he didn’t think anyone
would be out there, Morgan wasn’t sure.

He swallowed hard, thinking he should probably get this next part

out of the way.

Again, Nick’s excellent hearing allowed him to hear, instead of

see, the way his throat worked as he swallowed nervously. “What’s
wrong?”

“Was there a Terry in your old pack? With Phillip?”
Nick frowned. “It was a small pack, but I didn’t know everyone,

considering what I did.”

Yeah, that was right. Nick had basically been an assassin for

Phillip, always on the move and always hunting down and killing any
hunters that he could find because, despite his blindness, he was a
first rate-killer himself.

“The name does sound familiar, though I don’t recognize the

scent.”

Well, that was out of the way, and somewhat disappointing.

Ultimately it shouldn’t matter where Terry came from at this very
moment anyway. What mattered was that they had found him and
were going to keep him safe until they could get out of here.

Marcy Jacks

Morgan put his hand in his hair, wondering how he should say this

next part.

Again, Nick caught onto his hesitation and worry, even without

seeing him. “Why? What’s the matter?”

Spitting it out seemed like the best way. “I think that kid in there

is my mate.”

Nick’s black brows shot up. “Is he okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, he seems fine, for a wild werewolf. He can still speak, but

he seems scared.”

“What was he doing in the water?”
“Fishing,” Morgan said. “He seems like an omega to me. I think

he was either abandoned by the other wild wolves, or he ran away
when the others did and got lost. He’s been taking care of himself for
a while.”

Nick blew out a breath. “Damn. Well, he’s got you to take care of

him now, and if he’s a wandering omega, then we’ll just take and
make him part of our pack. He’ll be fine now, and if he is part of my
old pack, there will be others who will recognize him.”

Morgan hoped so. “I’ll check the cupboards for any food while

you’re out.”

Nick nodded, already turning back to the stairs, keeping his hand

on the wall as he went down. “Good idea. Don’t think I can catch
anything while out in that.”

Mated to the Wild Omega

Chapter Four

Morgan hadn’t been expecting Nick to return to the cabin with

news that there were other wild werewolves surrounding the property,
but he still breathed a deep sigh of relief when the other man came
back and told him they were alone.

“Find any food?” Nick asked.
“Well.” Morgan looked over at the small bounty he’d uncovered

on the counter. Describing it as small was being generous.

Two cans of alphabet soup and a half a bag of Rice Krispies

cereal, which was probably stale at this point.

“I haven’t gone through all the cupboards yet,” Morgan said when

Nick made a face at the small amount of food. “There could be other
non-perishable’s lying around that I missed.”

“God, I hope so. I’m starving.”
Morgan was pretty hungry now, too, not to mention he had his

mate upstairs, and he wanted to make certain that he got fed first.

Part of him wanted to just claim the food all for himself and make

sure that Terry ate as much as he needed to, but that was his inner
wolf talking. Even though he could control his transformations and
was, for the most part, in perfect harmony with his wolf, there were
always those times when he had to stop and think about what he’d
done or wanted to do. This was one of those times when his wolf
wanted to growl possessively over the small pile of food, keeping
Nick from getting any of it.

He had to tell it to shut the hell up. Morgan wanted to feed his

mate, but it wasn’t fair for him to ask Nick, or even demand it of him,
that he starve himself so that Terry could eat.

Marcy Jacks

“Would it be all right if I gave one of the cans to Terry, and you

and I shared the other?”

Nick nodded, and if he at all sensed the internal struggle Morgan

had just had, he didn’t mention it. “That should work. And the cereal
can be split into three bowls for snacking. Hopefully the storm will
pass before we need to eat again.”

Considering the little that there was, that would be very soon.
Morgan wanted to let Terry sleep, but the longer he stayed out of

the other man’s room, the more worried he became that he would
wake up alone and try to sneak out the window or something.

They quickly made their bowls, with Nick’s and Morgan’s being

the most watered down and Terry’s being the thickest and best
looking. Morgan was going to have to remember to thank the other
man for being so good about this.

He nudged the door open and stepped inside. Terry was exactly

where Morgan had left him, sleeping peacefully under the mountain
of covers Morgan had put on him.

He stepped closer to the bed and put the bowls and spoons on the

nightstand.

Terry’s nose twitched at the smell, but he didn’t open his eyes.
Morgan reached down and gently shook his shoulder, not

knowing what to expect when the younger man shifted and opened his
eyes.

“Brought you some food,” Morgan said.
Terry’s eyes widened, and he sat up slowly, his nostrils flaring as

he sniffed, suddenly noticing the scent.

Quick as lightning he reached out and snatched Morgan’s bowl,

the one that was so watered down it would be difficult to call it food
at all.

“Wait, not that one.” Morgan reached out to take the bowl, but

Terry growled at him.

The sound coming from an omega’s throat was so shocking that

Morgan pulled back. Terry lunged out of bed, spilling some of the

Mated to the Wild Omega

soup on him, and he backed himself into a corner, keeping his eyes on
Morgan even as he lifted the bowl to his lips and drank down the
contents, ever suspicious.

Christ, what happened to him?
When he finished drinking from the bowl, he used his fingers to

pull out the little cut up potatoes and peas that he’d missed and ate
those, too. Then he spotted the other bowl, the one that was supposed
to be his in the first place, and he lunged for it.

Morgan had to stop him before he could reach it, and Terry

released a roar that was part rage and part terror.

Goddamn. It was a good thing he’d asked Nick not to disturb

them.

Morgan grabbed onto Terry’s shoulders, but the omega actually

bit him on the hand.

“Ahh!” Morgan yelled, yanking his hand back but then grabbing

hold of Terry’s shoulders and all but throwing him down on the floor.

Big mistake. Terry flipped out even more, struggling and worming

his body beneath Morgan’s.

Oh no, Morgan wanted to groan in shame when his body reacted.

That was only going to make it worse. He had to put a stop to this,
now.

It was hard getting a good grip on the younger wolf, considering

he was still partly wet with soup broth, but Morgan eventually
managed to grab hold of his chin and force him to look Morgan in the
eyes.

Again, he wasn’t sure how it was done. Maybe it was just because

he willed it to happen, needed Terry to be calm, that he did eventually
calm down. His muscles went from being tight to going soft, and he
no longer looked like he wanted to attack anyone.

Morgan’s breathing was hard as he pushed himself off of Terry’s

body to lie next to him.

Fuck. Were all wild omegas like this? Or could this just be a

product of being forced to take care of himself for so long? Even wild

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werewolves were known to create packs to protect their smaller and
weaker members.

“I…I want it,” Terry said, sounding like he was having a hard

time getting his throat to work.

“I know, but you just drank down that other bowl in less than five

seconds. Give it a minute or you’ll make yourself sick,” Morgan said.

Then Terry did something that Morgan hadn’t been expecting. He

turned his head to look at him. “What are you?”

Morgan looked back at him. They were both still naked, and Terry

needed another hot bath, but his eyes were gentle. Not because
Morgan had used their link to calm him, but he seemed genuinely
curious.

“I’m a werewolf.”
Terry’s eyes widened, and then he looked back up at the ceiling.

“Oh.”

Morgan watched him carefully after that, watched the way his

throat worked as he swallowed, listened to the pumping of his heart as
it sped up. Terry lifted his hands, and he stared down at his palms,
clenching his fingers.

“Am I a werewolf?”
The question made everything inside of Morgan freeze up. Jesus

Christ, it was worse than he thought.

It was Morgan’s turn to swallow nervously. “I haven’t seen your

wolf form, but the fact that you were outside, naked, and are healing
so rapidly now could only mean that you are. I can kind of sense it in
you. You would be an omega, though sometimes you don’t act like
it.”

“Is that bad?” Terry’s voice seemed to be getting stronger as he

spoke more.

Morgan shook his head. “No. Not at all.”
Terry’s eyes clouded again. “I can smell you.”
“I can smell you, too.”
Morgan already had a pretty good idea of where this was going

Mated to the Wild Omega

when Terry leaned into him, pressing their bodies and their lips
together.

Terry’s hand slid around his back, the other coming up and

gripping the spot where his shoulder met his neck, and he entwined
their legs together for as much closeness as possible.

Morgan’s cock instantly filled and swelled, and when Terry

humped against him, he could feel the other man’s desperate erection
as well.

Terry was much more animal about it. He made little pleasured

noises as he rubbed their dicks together, completely ignoring the fact
that they’d just met.

Then there was the fact that Morgan wasn’t sure how old the guy

was. From the finger signals Terry had given him earlier, he was
going to guess it was about twenty-three, but he was on his way to
hell if he had sex with this omega in the state he was in without
finding out for sure.

Terry had just reached down to grip at Morgan’s ass when

Morgan was finally able to force himself to grab Terry’s hands and
pull them away from him.

Terry made a sound of protest when Morgan untangled them and

sat up. He had to rub his face and his lips with his hands just to erase
the feeling of being kissed so passionately by a complete stranger.
Morgan’s cock did not go down, however. It didn’t matter how many
dead puppies he thought of, even becoming desperate enough to
imagine the wise woman of his pack, Old Maggie, in a bikini, nothing
would make his body cooperate.

The need to stake his claim on his mate was there, and now it was

as strong as ever. His body shook with the effort it took to resist, and
fuck, it was already starting to pain him.

He doubted he’d be able to go to the end of the day before he

caved and bent Terry over something and fucked him hard. He
wanted to do it, right now. The fact that Terry was still reaching out
for him with that disappointed look on his face didn’t help anything.

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All Morgan could do was look down at him and imagine how

good it would feel when he slid his cock into that parted mouth, how
Terry would moan in delight when he tightened his lips around the
shaft.

Morgan got to his feet. If he could only wait until the end of the

night, then so be it. At least he would be able to get Terry cleaned up
and put some more food into him, and then maybe find out a little
more about where the omega came from, before that time came.

“No, stay,” Terry begged, sitting up and grabbing Morgan’s hand.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Morgan replied, helping Terry to his

feet and moving him to the bathroom. “You need to clean up again.”

“You’ll come in the water with me?” Terry asked, his voice

suggesting just how much he still feared the idea of being in the
water.

“I won’t give you a bath again. You can have a shower this time.”
Terry shivered, his arms reaching around Morgan’s waist, holding

him close. “I still want you with me. I feel safe with you.”

He had to think about that for a few seconds. Well…
“Okay, but I won’t be claiming you, yet.”

Mated to the Wild Omega

Chapter Five

Tatum threw another log onto the fire he’d built, and he stared

into the bright orange flames as they crackled and burned. He laced
his fingers together to rest his chin on them, and he couldn’t stop
scowling.

That old fucker who’d hired him, Tom, the previous hunter to be

in command, was long since dead. He’d warned Tatum and his boys
that there was a reason why hunters as of late had been avoiding this
spot.

Not enough were coming back alive.
Hunters were a breed who searched out and destroyed their

paranormal prey in small groups of three or five. Anything bigger
than that made travel difficult, and anything smaller was stupid.

Tatum had gotten enough hunters on his last planned attack that

he should have been able to wipe out every werewolf they came
across. He’d had at least ten men, all of whom were now dead,
including Tatum’s friends, the men he’d hunted with since figuring
out this shit was real when he turned sixteen.

They’d killed enough werewolves to last for the winter, however,

and with the others dead, that left fewer people for Tatum to share the
profits with.

There were people out there willing to pay huge amounts of

money to get their hands on a real werewolf pelt. It was hard to tell
the difference between a normal wolf and a werewolf, other than the
size of the fur itself, but Tatum had sold all the furs he’d gotten from
his last kill with the exception of one.

It was his trophy to wear, to show off to other hunters that he was

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the real fucking deal, and he could take out a number of werewolves
and survive, even when shit went south.

As for the rest, he’d sold them for a good price, replaced the

weapons he’d lost in the battle, and was now just biding his time.

He didn’t have nearly enough supplies for a full-blown attack

once more, but he would at the end of the winter. The fact that he’d
all but destroyed that one pack, sending its alpha into hiding, had
made it back to all the main hangouts where hunters were known to
frequent. Despite his losses, he was seen as something of a war hero.

That one made him grin. A war hero at twenty-five. He liked that.
The families of the dead hunters were grieving, and since winter

was a hard time for hunting, they were going to wait until the spring
before they decided to join him.

He would have backup, and he would take out that other pack.

Tatum had hated that old man’s guts. Tom had always been bossing
him around the second Tatum and his boys had arrived on the scene,
but he was still one of them, and Tatum was going to make sure that
he was avenged.

If Tatum happened to enjoy the hunt itself, the look in the eyes of

those wolves right as the life left them, well, that was his own benefit.

He looked out the window of the shitty little abandoned cabin

he’d holed up in for the winter. That love for the kill was the only
reason he was still out here for the winter. There were going to be
some stragglers to pick off after that one pack had been destroyed,
and Tatum wanted to be there to make sure they all found a safe,
warm place with him.

He got back to work cleaning his rifles and sharpening his knives.

* * * *

It had been the worst idea of Morgan’s life, getting into that

shower with Terry. The omega wouldn’t take no for an answer, and
Morgan’s cock wouldn’t take no for an answer either.

Mated to the Wild Omega

He had to remind himself that Terry was a wild werewolf. How

that had come about, Morgan didn’t know, but Terry was much more
open to the idea of being claimed by his mate just because of it. More
than once Morgan had to prevent Terry from sliding to his knees in
front of him and to keep the smaller man from kissing him.

It was hard because Terry didn’t want to touch the soap bar,

leaving Morgan to lather up the younger man himself. Terry had
seemed to take that as an open invitation and was constantly trying to
puff out his chest so that Morgan would touch his nipples.

Morgan was not hungry anymore. Not for food, at least. He

figured he could do without and give Terry the second bowl of soup
still waiting for them in the bedroom.

Thankfully, when he reminded the other man about it, Terry

forgot all about being horny and bounded over to the bowl.

Morgan watched him scarf down the soup with the same vigor as

before. Only this time, he didn’t look up at Morgan with distrust, and
he managed to eat without getting any on him.

At least until he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Morgan grabbed a washcloth and cleaned it away.
It made him wonder, would Terry always be like this? This

childlike, innocent being that trusted him so wholeheartedly simply
because Morgan fed him?

Or would that wildness eventually seep out of him once he had

more contact with other werewolves like Nick or Corey, or even the
other new werewolves who’d come to be part of DeWitt’s pack.

Not only had James taken in the survivors from Phillip’s pack, but

other nearly wild werewolves had come to him as well. They were
mostly okay and not nearly as far gone as Terry appeared to be. Was
that because they had escaped the alphas who were dragging them
around? Most of those werewolves had been omegas with the
exception of Cole and Trevor.

Did Terry somehow get separated from them?
Terry was giving him that look again, and Morgan barely noticed

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it as he washed the younger man’s hands. He didn’t notice it until it
was too late, and Terry’s mouth was on Morgan’s.

His dick hadn’t stopped throbbing since before they’d gone into

the shower together. The need to claim his mate was too much, and
his body started to shiver and shake like it had done before.

The hot, electric sensation jolted through his entire body when

Terry reached his hand down and wrapped those warm fingers around
Morgan’s prick.

He moaned into Terry’s mouth.
That was it. There was no turning back, and he no longer wanted

to stop himself. Morgan grabbed Terry under his armpits and
practically threw him on top of the bed. He climbed onto the other
man. Terry’s eyes had turned gold, and he stared at Morgan with
undisguised lust on his face.

No one had ever looked at him like that before.
When Terry’s hands started to massaged Morgan’s shoulders and

chest, his fingers brushing against Morgan’s nipples until they
hardened under his touch, Morgan decided to act now before it was
too late and he completely lost it.

He grabbed Terry’s hands and pinned them by the wrists above

his head. Terry’s eyes widened as he looked up and saw just why he
couldn’t move. “No…”

“How old are you?”
Terry blinked at him. “What?”
Morgan leaned in until their noses were practically touching.

“You used your fingers before, but I need you to say it. How old are
you?”

Terry squeezed his eyes shut, and for a split second Morgan

worried that perhaps he was hurting the smaller man.

Then he looked up and noted the way Terry’s fingers had gone

again. Terry looked at them, too, squinting his eyes to see them right.

One hand with two fingers up, and the other with three.
“Two, three,” he said.

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“Twenty-three?” Morgan clarified.
“I…Yes. Twenty-three. I am twenty-three,” he said with

conviction in his voice.

More than old enough, though he was still so damn young.
Still, the knowledge that he wasn’t pinning down a minor and

pressing his cock into his hip was freeing, and this time, Morgan was
the one to initiate their kiss.

He released Terry’s hands, allowing the omega to do what he

wanted with them. The first thing he did was stick them in Morgan’s
hair and grip as tightly as he could.

It hurt, but he liked it. It was a good kind of pain. Despite how

much the pain seemed to heighten the pleasure, Terry’s kisses became
biting and soon let Morgan know that he should be taking command
of the situation a little better than he was.

He thrust against the other man, grinding their cocks together.

Terry was not quiet as he voiced his pleasure. He threw his head back
and moaned out loud.

Terry’s legs spread and came around Morgan’s hips, locking

together at the ankles, and he was thrusting against Morgan’s cock
with all the grace of a virgin.

Morgan was torn between whether or not he wanted that to be a

reality.

“Fuck me. Want you to claim me,” Terry said, reaching his hand

down to stroke his dick.

Morgan couldn’t allow him to get off before he was inside of him,

so he quickly grabbed hold of Terry’s hand and thrust it above his
head again.

“Not until I say,” Morgan said with a growl.
“Fuck me!” Terry demanded.
He was so impatient. Clearly they couldn’t draw this out as much

as Morgan would have preferred, but that was all right. He wanted
nothing better than to be inside that tight ass as quickly as possible.

Morgan lifted himself up so that he was on his knees on the bed,

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and he spat into his hand, bringing his fingers down to Terry’s pucker.

Terry was still thrusting his hips, and this time, when he reached

down to grip his dick, Morgan let him. “Yes, fuck me, yes,” he hissed,
stroking himself as Morgan pressed his fingers inside that tight hole.

“Be patient,” Morgan said with a grunt as those fingers stroked

him. He had no lube on him and didn’t have the presence of mind to
go and search for any. Terry was a werewolf, he would be fine
without it so long as Morgan didn’t rush too much, and the fact that
they were claiming each other would make it easier as well.

Terry continued to kiss and nuzzle his jaw as Morgan fingered

him, and as he expected, the other man hardly seemed to notice that
there was nothing to ease the way. He was so eager to mate. He was
eager to be fucked.

How long had it been since he’d had a lover? It surprised him to

realize that he couldn’t pinpoint an exact time, but it had definitely
been a while ago, and none of them had made him quite as wanton as
Terry did.

It had to be the mate thing. This proved that they were mated.
Morgan couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed the

sensation of having his fingers sucked into that warmth so much or
feeling this anxious to be inside of it.

Terry was eagerly humping against his fingers now, and his fist as

he worked his cock. Oddly, he was no longer staring down at himself
or trying to see what Morgan was doing between his legs. Now, he
was looking at Morgan’s face.

“I’m yours,” he said, though it almost sounded like a question, as

though he were confirming that this was real.

“Yes,” Morgan said, removing his fingers and spitting once more

into his hand. “And I’m yours.”

He stroked the saliva over himself, biting his lower lip at the sheer

pleasure he felt. His eyes fell shut for a second before he opened them
again and noted how pink Terry’s cheeks had become.

His hand still moved up and down over his swollen prick, and his

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eyes were half-lidded as he watched Morgan pleasure himself.

Morgan smiled at him. There was better in store for him than just

watching that.

Morgan grabbed hold of one of Terry’s ankles. “Put your legs up

onto my shoulders,” he said.

Terry did as he was told, and the backs of his knees fit so nicely

on Morgan’s shoulders.

“Push out when I push in,” he said, and then made one more

prayer that what he’d done would be enough. Despite the werewolf-
strength thing, even he hadn’t ever done this before without
something to help it along.

He took hold of the base of his dick and lined the head up with

Terry’s stretched pucker.

He couldn’t remember if Terry had said anything to him after that

because the second Morgan started pressing himself inside, that was
it. His thinking brain put a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door to his
mind, and all Morgan was left with was the sheer animal pleasure and
the need to ram into his mate with all the force and speed as though it
was their last time as well as their first.

Terry’s fingers turned into claws and pulled on the skin of

Morgan’s back, but he didn’t care, even when pain raked across his
back and warm trails of blood spilled. All he could focus on was that
he was balls-deep inside his mate, and he never wanted to be
anywhere else but right here.

Terry moaned loudly, completely uncaring that there were other

people in the house who might hear him, and Morgan soon followed
with that same mentality. He pushed and pulled himself in and out of
Terry’s body until the bed started to move in the same rhythm as his
thrusting hips.

“You. Are. Mine. Forever,” Morgan said through gritted teeth,

punctuating each word with a sharp lunge of his pelvis.

Then it happened. Though they were mated, a mated pair still

needed to claim each other for everything to be complete on both

Marcy Jacks

ends. Otherwise there was still that little piece on both sides that
remained out of sync.

Just as Morgan sped up, feeling the peak of his pleasure looming,

he felt that connection between him and the man beneath him grow
stronger, more solid, until there was nothing in the world that could
separate them.

He kept on moving, continuing to milk himself inside Terry until

his cock was finally sated, but Terry still humped desperately against
him.

“Please, don’t stop. I need…”
“I’ve got you,” Morgan said, and he reached down and took hold

of Terry’s still-swollen prick.

Only now that he was no longer intoxicated on his lust was he

able to look down and really appreciate what he had in his hand.

Terry was long and thick, and from the looks of things, a little

longer than Morgan was, but Morgan was definitely a bit thicker.
Terry was also cut, unlike Morgan. Werewolves born and raised out
in the wild certainly didn’t have that procedure done, so that could
only mean that Terry’s lapse into the world of feral werewolves had
happened more recently. A least after the last winter, judging by the
way the poor kid was handling this winter on his own.

A shiver passed through Terry’s body as Morgan’s hand gripped

him and then stroked up and down. It was kind of strange, the way
Terry was still canting his hips against Morgan’s, while Morgan
stroked his dick.

Despite how he was already so recently satisfied, a tremor passed

through his body, and his heart rate and breathing picked up as his
cock filled once more.

Morgan groaned and began thrusting in earnest again. He let go of

Terry’s dick and braced his hands on either side of the omega’s head
as he fucked the smaller man into the mattress.

It had been a while and all that, but he still didn’t expect his body

to be so eager, or for Terry to be so willing, all things considered. He

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wouldn’t question it. He wouldn’t analyze it either, not when it felt
this good to have Terry’s body squeezing down on Morgan’s cock.

“Nice, that’s nice,” Terry said, drawing out the word so that it

sounded like niiiiiiice.

Morgan was gasping again, trying to keep his eyes from falling

shut as he claimed his mate. He wanted to look at him. He loved the
way Terry’s face twisted in pleasure, and how his cheeks became rosy
as he was fucked.

“Touch me,” Morgan said. “Put your hands on me. Now.”
Terry did as he was told, his warm hands sliding up the muscles of

Morgan’s chest, his fingers brushing and pinching his nipples. Then
Terry lifted his mouth to the side of Morgan’s neck, licking and
sucking with all the energy and eagerness as though he were sucking
on a candy.

Then Terry’s hand shot down between them, his arm jerking hard

and fast as he stroked himself. “Ughhh! I’m gonna come!”

Morgan felt the wet splash of Terry’s cum on his stomach. He

liked it. He liked that his mate’s seed was on him, marking him just as
much as Morgan was marking Terry.

Morgan needed another minute before he could come again, his

previous orgasm making this newer one take just a little bit longer to
reach. Morgan’s fingers became claws just as Terry’s had, and they
punctured the mattress as Morgan fucked his mate with every ounce
of strength he possessed.

He came with a roar, unable to contain that more animal side of

himself as he spilled his fluids inside of his mate.

Terry was his. Morgan would make sure to find out what had

happened to put the omega in this state, and he would never allow
anything like it to happen ever again.

Morgan swore he nearly dozed off. The warmth of the body

beneath him and the twitter-pated mood those orgasms put him in was
too much to resist.

Then a loud pounding on the door yanked him out of his almost

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nap.

“What is it?” Morgan called, knowing it was Nick and noting the

way Terry’s eyes had gone wide and wild as he searched for the loud
noise that had disturbed them.

“If you two are finished,” the other man said from behind the

door. “I think the storm’s starting to pass. I can smell people outside.
They have guns.”

Mated to the Wild Omega

Chapter Six

Terry heard the man on the other side of the door announce that

there were people nearby, and everything inside him screamed at him
to get up, run, hide, fight, do whatever he could do to keep from being
taken away from Morgan’s arms.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he actually felt safe.

Morgan’s body, his warmth, and his comforting smile all equalled
safety, but there were people out there who wanted to snuff that out
and take Morgan away from him.

He couldn’t let that happen. That was why, when Morgan tried to

get up from where he lay, Terry reached for him, taking his wrist and
stopping him from going to the door.

“Don’t go outside. They’ll find you.”
Morgan put his hand on Terry’s shoulder, that calming smile back

on his face. Terry liked Morgan’s smile because it didn’t give him the
chills the way it did when the others had smiled at him. There was
nothing sinister or hidden in that smile. There was only honesty and
openness.

“I’ll come right back for you. Whoever those people are outside,

they need to be dealt with. I don't believe they’re trying to come in
here, not if they think the house is occupied.”

“But―”
“Don’t worry,” Morgan said, his hand coming on top of Terry’s

head and then sliding down his neck. It felt like Morgan was petting
him. He liked it. “If anything happens, I promise I’ll come back up for
you right away.”

“They’re hunters,” Terry said, fighting against the feeling inside

Marcy Jacks

of him that was attempting to calm him.

Morgan looked away and nodded, as though he didn’t like

admitting to it. “They might be, yes, but they might also just be
normal hunters, out trying to catch a buck or something. We have
nothing to worry about.”

There was nothing else Terry could do or say to make the other

man stay with him. Despite Morgan’s gentle command for Terry to
get back under the covers of the bed, he wouldn’t do it. Instead, he
went to the window.

Whereas before he would have thought it was cold in here, now

that his body was coming back to a regular temperature, he was
comfortable.

The storm was still pretty bad outside, and he didn’t dare crack

open the window, but it wasn’t nearly the white out it had been
before. Terry could see that there were at least three men out there,
shotguns in hand, bundled up against the cold with their orange vests
and leather mitts with fur trim, hats, boots, the whole deal.

He was partly shocked that he could remember what those items

were even called. There had been more than one occasion when he
ran and hunted by himself that no human thought passed through his
head at all. Everything had been instinct. All Terry had wanted to do
was eat and survive. Now, it was like the more human aspect to his
brain was starting to work again, and all because Morgan had spoken
to him and bathed him.

Maybe a hot bath, calm conversation, and good sex were some of

the key ingredients that made up a human. Either way, his eyes
narrowed at the sight of them.

They looked exactly like the hunters Terry had been running from,

but all hunters looked the same, even the ones who hunted regular
animals as opposed to werewolves and vampires.

They whispered amongst each other, and Terry couldn’t make out

what they were saying, but then the back door opened and that other
werewolf stepped outside and called to them.

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This time, Terry could hear him. That probably had more to do

with the volume the other man spoke with, though. “You folks all
right?”

The hunters looked amongst each other. “Fine,” said the man in

the middle, apparently taking the lead. “Just out on a hunting trip.”

The other werewolf, the friend of Morgan’s, must have found

something to wear in one of the rooms, or maybe it was just a spare
snowsuit and boots. Either way, he kept on talking with those men as
though it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Bad weather for that sort of thing, isn’t it?” he asked.
“We’re good,” said the leader, nodding to him. “Sorry to have

bothered you, sir. Didn’t know anyone was home.”

“That’s all right. We just got here today. You all be careful now

out in this weather. It’s dangerous, and you don’t want to be getting
lost.”

The hunters nodded, turned, and walked away.
The other werewolf seemed to watch them from the porch for a

long while, even after the hunters vanished into the whiteout, before
he turned to come back into the house.

From his place upstairs, Terry heard the murmuring voices of

Morgan and his other werewolf friend.

“Think they bought it?”
“Have to assume so, but I got a weird vibe from one of those men

right before they turned to leave.”

“Shit,” Morgan said.
“I know. We might have to make a break for it and risk the storm

sooner than we thought.”

Terry hoped that they would. He didn’t want to be caught by any

other alpha werewolves, or hunters, ever again.

* * * *

“What do you think, Tony?” Chance asked. He was the youngest

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in their group, and the easiest to scare, as noted by the way he gripped
his shotgun. His leather mitts dangled by long strings of yarn from the
sleeves of his winter coat, like he was some sort of four-year-old.

Tony scratched his chin. “Hard to say. Didn’t see a car or truck for

that one guy to get here in, but that could’ve been in the garage and
all this snowfall could’ve covered the tracks. I think we should still
tell Tatum about it. I think he was right. People around here are
strange.”

“Yeah, and did you see that guy’s eyes? They were all blank and

shit. Creeps me out.”

“You think they’re werewolves?” Storm asked.
Tony had once before asked Storm what his real name was since

no one outside of Hollywood would ever give their only son a name
like that. Storm had growled at him, the one eye that was not covered
with a black pirate-looking eye patch glaring, and Tony had dropped
it completely.

“Might be, but I never heard about any werewolves living in this

area, only that the wild ones were sometimes seen here, but yeah, we
should go and let Tatum know the place is occupied. That guy said
there were others in that house, and we didn’t get a look at them.”

“And he seemed a little too calm considering we were on his

property with these in our hands,” Chance said, holding out the
shotgun he held, as though Tony could’ve missed it.

Kid was going to end up shooting himself before this mission was

over, he just knew it.

“Right. Let’s move on out. I’m freezing my dick off, here,” Tony

said, looking over at Storm when the words left his mouth. He had a
good idea of how he wanted to warm up that part of his anatomy. He
hoped the other man had caught onto the hint and would be willing
tonight. He hated having to persuade him.

“Yeah, I’m freezing my dick off, too,” Chance said, hurrying

ahead of them.

Tony was wrong. The kid wasn’t going to accidentally shoot

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himself. Tony was going to shoot him on purpose before this was all
over.

* * * *

Terry was on edge by the time Morgan came back into the room.

He jumped up from where he’d been sitting on the bed, and even that
took a lot of effort considering how he would’ve preferred to be
pacing around the room.

That was more of the wild animal in him, and he was trying to

suppress that part of himself now. So instead, he looked at Morgan
and demanded to know what the plan was.

Morgan looked out the window. The storm had set in once more,

and it was easy to see that it would only take another couple of
minutes before it was a complete white out once more.

That made Terry all the more jumpy. He felt like he was being

caged, and the urge to run out of this cabin and out into the open
space was all consuming.

The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that it would

kill him if he went.

“We need to stay here, at least until morning. It’s starting to get

dark out, and the storm’s picking up. I doubt it will last through the
night, so the second it’s safe to do so, we’ll be going.”

Now that Terry was up, and actually, he had started to pace

around without realizing it, he couldn’t sit back down or stop his body
from shaking.

“They were hunters. They were hunters, and they want to strap us

down to tables and do things to us, and we need to get out of here
right now.”

“Shh, baby, shh,” Morgan said, stepping forward to grab onto his

shoulders and pull Terry against his chest. “You’re getting yourself
worked up. I know they’re likely a threat, and it sucks, but there’s
nothing that can be done for it now. We just have to stay here for the

Marcy Jacks

night, keep ourselves quiet, and the first thing we’ll do in the morning
is get out of here.”

“They want to skin us. They want to hurt us,” Terry said, unable

to stop talking, so he just squeezed Morgan even tighter, as though
protecting the alpha from all the things the hunters would do to him
when they caught them, as well as taking in the comfort.

“I know, but they’re not going to. I won’t let them.”
“That’s what the last alpha said,” Terry said, his body shaking all

over. “And he’s gone.”

“The last…?” Morgan said, his mouth dropping. “Terry, did you

come from Phillip’s pack?”

There were flashes passing through his mind now, images that he

couldn’t stop but couldn’t make sense of either.

First, everything was fine. The sun was shining and the pups were

playing. Terry was actually playing around with one of the other
omegas, but in the haze, he couldn’t remember exactly who it had
been, or what the guy’s name was. It didn’t matter. They had been
laughing and joking as they chopped up firewood and collected other
small sticks to bring back to the pack. Then the scene swirled, and
that same image turned bloody red. The noise in the background
changed from birds twittering in their nests to screams. Screams that
were close and far away.

Terry could recall running through the trees, covered in blood, and

shouts behind him. He could see the men, one on each side, always in
pairs as they did it, skinning wolves alive. It made Terry cry and
cover his eyes, but the images were still there as those humans took
turns grabbing his friends by their hind legs, slicing into the skin,
and…

“Terry? Terry! Look at me, babe. Come on out of it.”
Morgan was snapping his fingers in front of Terry’s face, and it

worked to pull Terry out of the nightmare he’d just been in. Kind of.

Suddenly, he couldn’t recall where he was or how he’d gotten

there, and he realized he was in the arms of a naked someone, and he

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flew across the bed.

“Shit, Terry.”
The voice was calm, despite how out of control Terry felt. He had

a case of the jitters all over his body, and again, all he could think
about was escape.

“Morgan? You okay?”
There was someone else here, too. That was right, another wolf.

That other male werewolf was outside the door was part of this group.
Maybe Terry could go to him, make him see reason, and then the
three of them could get out of here before they were all skinned alive
like the others.

The fear and terror Terry felt vanished. Like the channel had been

changed inside his mind, there were no longer any frightening images
for him to look at. Only Morgan’s calm and patient face. He was
beautiful, Terry realized. He’d known it from the second he first laid
eyes on the man, but only now did he allow himself to really think it.

He wished his mind would stop playing tricks on him and that his

memories would straighten out. He didn’t know how much more of
this he could take.

“Terry, it’s okay. I’m the only one in this room with you. I swear I

won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Morgan?” the voice behind the door called again.
“I’m okay, Nick. We’re doing just fine.”
Nick. So that was the name of the other werewolf Terry had heard

about.

“You don’t know what they did…” Terry said, reaching up to

scratch the itch on his face, but his fingers came away wet. He used
the back of his hands next to wipe away the tears and clear the itching
the trailing moisture had caused.

Morgan bit his bottom lip, staring down at Terry like he felt sorry

for him. Terry didn’t like that at all, but then he supposed the fact that
he was balancing on the edge of a blade as to whether he would
suddenly go wild or not would bring out that sort of reaction.

Marcy Jacks

“I’m almost sixty years old, Terry, and I’ve been lucky enough to

have never seen the things you saw. I’m sorry that happened to you,
and I’m sorry the hunters…did those things to your friends. But Nick
and I are here now. We’re prepared for attack. They can’t sneak up on
us if we’re expecting them. One of us will stand guard all night, and
the second we’re able, we’ll head back to my pack.”

“Your pack?” Terry asked.
Morgan shook his head, smiling, as though realizing his blunder.

“Well, the pack isn’t mine. I’m not the leading alpha, but I live there.
You’re a wandering omega now, and my mate, so I’ll claim you for
DeWitt’s pack. You’re perfectly safe with me and Nick, and you’ll be
better protected when I take you home.”

“They attacked my pack…” Terry said.
He almost slipped back into that strange world where he was

awake but still had nightmares about what he saw, but Morgan
gripped him by the shoulders, not allowing him to go into that place.

“I know. Mine has been attacked before, too. By wild wolves,

hunters, all of it. Those things happen, and we are prepared for them.
There’s so many new werewolves back at the pack that we’re running
out of space to put them all in. We had to start building new houses.”

“Really?” Terry asked.
Morgan nodded. “Yeah. We recently got a benefactor who’s been

funding a lot of the repairs.”

There was a twitch in Morgan’s mouth when he said the word

benefactor, and Terry got the idea that there was something about this
mysterious person that Morgan didn’t want him to know.

He let it go for now. His human mind was back, and mostly in

control. He didn’t want to give that up again by flipping out.

“Anyway, Nick said that he found a bag of rice in one of the

downstairs cupboards. So with the soup over there that you still have,
we can make a good supper if you wanted to come downstairs.”

Terry thought about it for a minute, and he didn’t need to think for

long. “Okay.”

Mated to the Wild Omega

Morgan smiled at him, reached out, and took his hand, leading

him toward the door.

Terry planted his feet and stopped before Morgan could touch the

handle.

Morgan looked back at him, worry in his eyes. “What is it?”
Terry looked down at himself, as though only just noticing it,

which was strange, considering he’d spent the last couple of months
completely naked.

“I…Do you think there’s any clothes around here for me to

wear?”

Marcy Jacks

Chapter Seven

The fact that he wanted to wear clothing was a good sign. It meant

that the more animal side to him was starting to merge once again
with his human side.

It kind of made Morgan yearn for some clothes as well. The only

thing for clothing that he and Nick had found when those hunters
came on the property was the winter jacket, snow pants, and boots.
They hadn’t really bothered to search for anything else. Now, Morgan
went through the drawers with Terry.

They did find some clothing in the mostly empty drawers. The

problem was that, whoever owned this cabin was much wider than
either Morgan or Terry.

Morgan had suspected as much when Nick put on the winter

jacket, but that could be excused because people often wore layers
and needed to buy jackets that were bigger than what they’d usually
wear.

The jeans Terry pulled from the cheap IKEA-looking dresser

looked like they were tailored to fit a man three times his size.
Morgan couldn’t help but laugh when Terry compared the faded jeans
to his own smaller hips by putting them side to side.

“You look like you could get lost in those,” Morgan said.
The fact that Terry didn’t smile back or even acknowledge that

Morgan was joking around with him suggested that maybe the wolf
still had some control after all. Terry just reached back into the drawer
and pulled out a long, heavy-looking belt.

“This will make it fit,” he said with a smile.
Morgan smiled back and went to have a look in the drawer for

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himself. There was another pair of jeans in there that was way too big,
even for Morgan’s body, and a maroon T-shirt with a neck hole so
stretched he suspected it might go right over his shoulders, and the
whole thing would fall down his body and crumple at his feet.

“There another belt in there?” he asked.
He never felt so ridiculous coming downstairs, wearing a pair of

jeans so huge. He was sure he looked like one of those ridiculous-
looking kids from the TV, wearing pants or shorts so big that they slid
down the ass. He didn’t understand that fad at all.

He wouldn’t mind seeing it on Terry, however.
Either way, the belts kept them decent.
Nick sensed there was something off in Morgan’s mood, but

because he couldn’t see the jeans, he could only cock his head and
return to what he was doing.

“I got the water boiling and in a couple of minutes the rice will be

ready to go in. I’ll just need you to watch it for me.”

Morgan decided that now was not the time to poke fun at Nick for

his hatred of cooking. Sometimes he couldn’t tell whether Nick just
couldn’t do it because of his blindness or because of a real lack of
talent in a kitchen. He knew Adam, Nick’s mate, made him take turns
with him, but that was about it.

Maybe the guy only hated cooking when his mate wasn’t around

to enjoy it with him.

“Sure thing.”
Because they now had the rice, on top of the cereal that they’d

found earlier for snacking, Morgan made sure that Terry ate what was
left of his soup after he’d heated it up in the microwave. The first
floor of the cabin was really starting to warm up thanks to the stove,
and the goose bumps on Nick’s arms soon vanished.

The rice wasn’t exactly instant, so they had to wait twenty

minutes before it was ready. Morgan knew how to cook, but rice
wasn’t his thing either. It was ready, but the texture was a little too
soggy to have been done properly.

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Still, he was starving, and it was the best damn rice he’d had in his

life.

Terry certainly made no complaints as he scarfed down what was

on his plate. Morgan quickly scooped more for him to eat,
occasionally reminding him to slow down, but otherwise, they had a
good meal.

It had gone dark outside, but because of their fear of using too

much power and somehow being found out by the owner, they
searched out some candles and lit them for the night. Terry actually
found a children’s board game for them to play with.

Something to do with catching mice in some strange elaborate

trap with all sorts of pieces and parts. Morgan had no clue how a child
was supposed to put the stupid thing together. The strange thing was
how the three of them seemed to have the most fun just trying to
figure out how to assemble it.

They tired themselves out after enough attempts and jokes at

themselves, but it had been definitely more than an hour before they
gave up and just sat down to talk.

Morgan and Nick kept the conversations light and on safe topics,

both fully aware that the omega currently sitting in Morgan’s lap was
still fighting to keep control of his inner wolf.

Even Nick’s extrasensitive senses would be able to tell him that

Terry had almost lost it a couple of times while Nick was downstairs.
He would have heard it.

When Terry fell asleep in Morgan’s lap, only then did they start

getting serious.

Nick kept his voice down, lest he pull Terry out of the dream he’d

just slipped into.

“I think those men were hunters, and they weren’t hunting for

Bambi.”

Morgan kept his grip on Terry light as Nick said those words,

forcing himself not to clutch at the younger man protectively.

“We killed most of the hunters who got to Phillip’s pack. Could

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the rest have regrouped by now?”

“If they have, then they’re determined motherfuckers.”
Motherfucker was the correct term to use as well, considering the

things those men had done to the wolves of Phillip’s pack, and the
poor man’s mate. Morgan had seen the corpse. It hadn’t been pretty.
The only good news was that by some act of God, they had decided to
spare Phillip’s pup. A baby boy only a few months old.

Currently, the pup was in James’s personal care. He and his mate

were keeping the child close to them for protection until the real
father returned. If he ever did.

“Terry was part of Phillip’s pack, so we can cross him off the list

of the missing.”

Nick’s sightless eyes widened. “I thought he was a wild omega.”
“He is, almost,” Morgan said. “I guess he saw some serious shit

happen before he managed to get away. I don’t think he figured out
that the hunters were scared off. Otherwise he might’ve come to
James’s pack sooner and turned himself over. He’s been taking care
of himself all this time, and that, coupled with what those hunters
might’ve done to him brought the wolf out to the forefront.”

Nick nodded. “Yeah. I guess that’s a natural reaction when we’re

trying to survive.”

“Because of that,” Morgan said, getting back to the point, “I don’t

want him knowing about Isaac, just yet.”

“Why not?” One of Nick’s brows lifted in an expression that

Morgan thought was annoying.

Isaac was probably the only hunter in existence to be made

welcome within a pack of werewolves. Probably because he’d mated
with one of the omegas, Tristan, and even took a silver bullet for the
guy after he’d helped the pack to bag a couple of hunters before they
could attack the pack.

He was pretty much welcomed with open arms by one and all

after that. Then the knowledge came that he was loaded, and as a gift
to his mate, he wanted to build a cabin just for the two of them to live

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in, and put the money in to repair the cabins on James’s land that were
falling apart.

Werewolves weren’t like vampires. Their packs weren’t loaded to

their eyeballs with cash. A werewolf earned money wherever they
could, and though it was getting easier in today’s day and age, there
were still the nights were firewood was required because the heat had
to be shut off or when the alphas had to go out hunting for meat
because there wasn’t enough money to completely fill their fridges.

Though the alphas still hunted and the omegas still worked, both

sides of the pack also grabbing the odd job here and there to bring
some money in, ever since Isaac had showed up, things had definitely
been better.

Morgan once asked him why he kept spending his money on

them. It wasn’t that he was ungrateful. He’d just been curious to know
how a hunter could constantly spend the money, which he’d inherited
after his family had been devoured by wild werewolves, on a pack of
werewolves.

Isaac hadn’t looked him in the eyes when he’d explained that it

was part of his atonement. Atonement for being a hunter and for all
the things he’d done when he carried that title.

Morgan’s face had gone red, and he’d promptly walked away. Of

course Isaac would have killed his fair share of werewolves. He had
been a hunter, after all, but Morgan believed that the man was on his
side, so he’d let it slide.

But now Morgan had Terry to think about. Isaac hadn’t been

responsible in any way for what had happened at Phillip’s pack. Hell,
Isaac had been trying to help, but that might not matter to a fearful
werewolf who was on the brink of becoming wild again. Morgan
didn’t want to risk some kind of episode over it. He would bring
Terry to back to his pack, and after enough time had passed, he would
tell him about the former hunter who lived with them. Gently.

Morgan explained this to Nick, and the other man nodded. “Right.

Sorry, I hadn’t thought of that.”

Mated to the Wild Omega

“It’s all right. I’m sure he’ll be at ease around Isaac after they get

to know one another, and being around some of the other members of
his pack that we rescued will probably help to keep his mind
grounded.”

“Yeah, we just have to get back home, first.”
The thought of home…Morgan always liked going out on

whatever little missions he could, especially as of late. There was
something about seeing all the newly mated pairs in his pack that had
made him jealous. Even though he’d started to think it wasn’t going to
happen, and had told himself he no longer minded it, he’d been
jealous. He hadn’t wanted to be around the others, but now that he
had his mate, safely snuggled against his chest, he couldn’t wait to get
back.

His room was in one of the larger cabins, and he wouldn’t mind

sharing it with the others, but maybe he could convince Isaac to pay
for the soundproofing.

“I’m going to take him back upstairs,” Morgan said, getting to his

feet.

Apparently, Nick had noticed there was something off with his

choice of clothing after all.

“What are you wearing? It sounds baggy. Like a skirt.”
Goddamn Nick’s weird sonar hearing. He should’ve been a bat

shifter or something, not a werewolf. “It’s just a big pair of jeans.”

“You’re both wearing them.”
“The owner of this place is a big guy. Good night,” Morgan said.
“I guess that means I’ve got first watch?”
“I’ll come back down to take you off in four hours, and we’ll

rotate from there.”

Thank God he didn’t want to argue about it. “See you then.”

* * * *

Morgan had just gotten upstairs and tucked Terry under the covers

Marcy Jacks

when he decided he had to get out of these ridiculous-looking pants.
He wanted to wear clothes, but not at the expense of his dignity.

He’d just let them drop from his hips and stepped out of them

when he noticed that Terry was looking at him.

Morgan smiled but still approached with some measure of

caution. “How’re you feeling?”

Terry blinked and waited a few seconds before he said anything.
“I don’t hear anything outside.”
That was good. It would allow him to rest easier for the night

knowing that the house wasn’t being surrounded by hunters.

“Yeah, we’re safe here.” For the moment.
“Can we try going to your pack now?”
Morgan looked out the window. It was pitch dark, but the snow

was still coming down pretty hard, and the wind howled.

Terry looked at where Morgan looked, and he sank back under the

covers. “Never mind.”

“First thing in the morning,” Morgan promised. “I swear. The

storm won’t last that long.” He was pretty sure it wouldn’t, anyway.
“And the second the sun rises, we’ll go.”

“I don’t think I can sleep.”
“Nick’s downstairs. He has first watch. He has the most sensitive

sense of smell and hearing of any wolf I’ve ever met. If anything tries
to come this way, he’ll know it, and we’ll have more than enough
time to get out of here.”

He hoped they would anyway. Nick certainly had trouble finding

his way earlier today when the storm hit.

Morgan took one more look out the window. He couldn’t exactly

see because of the darkness, but he still got the feeling that things
outside weren’t as bad as they’d been earlier today. It was still too
dangerous to travel in, but he was sure that if those men were still out
in that, and the only reason why anyone would brave that kind of
weather was because they thought they were on some holy mission,
Nick would have a fair amount of warning.

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“After Nick’s time is done, then I’m going on rotation so he can

sleep a little, then him again, and then me, until the sun rises and we
can leave. You’ll always be protected, so you can sleep easy tonight.”

Terry frowned at him. “I’ve been taking care of myself for weeks

now. I can stand watch, too.”

Morgan wasn’t sure he liked the idea of an untrained omega

having his back. “I think you should sleep. I doubt you’ve had a good
night’s sleep since your attack, and it’ll be better if you’re at a
hundred percent for the trip tomorrow. With the snow to hinder us,
we’re looking at a three- or four-hour journey.”

Terry kept right on frowning at him, and Morgan braced himself

for another argument, but then the other man turned over in bed and
pulled one of the pillows close.

Morgan was too new to being in a relationship. That was what

being mated was, right? He was officially…well, married, as far as
other werewolves were concerned.

That didn’t mean their status as being together, well, in a

relationship, was bulletproof. Morgan could still fuck up in such a
way that could cause the other man to decide he just didn’t want to be
with him.

Morgan didn’t want that.
He wasn’t sure what sort of reaction he expected when he climbed

into bed with Terry. Aside from being new to this mating thing, he
was new to relationships in general. It had always been sex before. He
never had to worry if his partner was angry with him for something.
And if his current fling had been giving him the cold shoulder for
whatever reason, well, it had been a simple matter of moving on.

He reached out and touched Terry’s shoulder. At first the smaller

man didn’t move, and Morgan’s heart lurched.

No. He wanted this to work, damn it.
He exhaled long and deep when Terry turned around, his hands

reaching and wrapping around Morgan’s waist, and they came
together easily.

Marcy Jacks

“Mad at me?”
“Yes,” Terry said.
Morgan would have winced, but Terry’s voice didn’t hold any

anger in it. It was almost as though he were stating a fact, rather than
saying it just to make Morgan feel guilty.

“But, I am glad that you want to keep me safe. I don’t remember

anyone wanting to do that the same way you do.”

“Not anyone in your pack?” Morgan asked, curious now.
What if Terry had had a lover before the hunters had come and all

but wiped out his pack?

Terry shook his head. “The alphas kept us safe, for the most part.

Everything was always okay. There was never anything to worry
about. I can’t remember the last time hunters attacked us, before…”

Morgan rubbed the back of Terry’s head. “You don’t have to talk

about it right now. I promise I’ll be here when you want to, though.”

Terry squeezed him tightly, snuggling closer, if that was at all

possible considering they were already to pressed up against each
other.

It was then that Morgan had a thought, and he knew without a

shadow of a doubt that it was right.

Before this morning when he’d taken Terry and completed their

connection, Terry had been a virgin. It was so obvious to him now
that he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before.

This wild innocence that he carried with him, even after seeing

such horrible things, it wasn’t a product of his animal side that simply
didn’t know any better and was searching for comfort.

Terry had been a virgin, and at twenty-three, still very child-like

considering the pack he’d come from. He’d probably played video
games and still goofed off with his friends while doing his chores.

Well, there were certainly video games back at Morgan’s pack for

him to play with if he wanted them. Whether he would actually revert
back to that previous form, Morgan couldn’t say for sure.

Morgan’s grim thoughts were chased away when Terry pressed

Mated to the Wild Omega

his lips to the muscles of Morgan’s chest. His hands went from
clinging around Morgan’s waist to moving up to his shoulders. Terry
pulled himself up Morgan’s body until his mouth was kissing and
suckling on Morgan’s neck.

His cock swelled in that instant, and he held Terry as tightly as he

could, enjoying the attention. His mate wanted him. Terry wanted
Morgan to take him.

How could he say no?
He looked down just as Terry reached up captured his lips. The

kiss was chaste for the first five seconds before Terry’s tongue slipped
out.

Morgan opened his mouth, allowing Terry inside of him.
Terry kissed him with all the love and innocence of a virgin all

right. Now that his wild side was being suppressed, he didn’t show
the same desperation as before. This was going to be slow and gentle.

His hips rocked against Morgan’s, those huge jeans he was

wearing rubbing against Morgan’s pulsing dick. Christ, he needed to
get them off him.

Morgan let his hands slid down lower, until his fingers found the

belt and slipped beneath them. He tried, but he couldn’t get the pants
below Terry’s hips without adjusting the belt, so he abandoned that
idea and started to work, quickly, on the buckle.

The only sounds in the dark room were that of their kissing, their

hard breathing through their noses, and the slight clinking sounds
coming from Terry’s borrowed belt.

Finally, Morgan managed to get the belt undone. He slid the jeans

down Terry’s hips, his palms keeping contact with that warm skin as
he moved down Terry’s thighs.

Terry moaned, pulling his mouth away from Morgan and shifting

his legs around until the jeans were off him completely and kicked
somewhere under the covers.

They looked at each other. Morgan’s night vision had kicked in,

and he could see the eagerness, and shyness, in Terry’s eyes.

Marcy Jacks

This was Terry’s real first time. That last time had been about

instinct and mating. This time, Terry was the one in complete control
of himself. He would remember everything that happened between
them tonight, and if he ever spoke about his first time, this would be
the event he talked about.

Morgan was going to make sure that it was good for him in that

case.

They came together once more without words. Morgan’s hands

went around Terry’s head, his fingers threading through his soft hair.
Terry’s hands did the same as Morgan turned his mate onto his back
and rolled on top of him.

They kissed some more, and Morgan never felt more like a

teenager in all his life, considering the way his dick was begging to be
touched, stroked, anything, and all he was allowing himself to do was
kiss.

“Are you nervous?” he asked.
His thumb touched on the side of Terry’s mouth.
Through those gorgeous, lusty eyes, underneath all that hunger,

Terry stared at him with complete and total awareness. He shook his
head. “No.”

Morgan brought their mouths together again, a little rougher this

time on his part. His entire body shivered as Terry’s legs drifted up,
bending at the knees, and then looped around Morgan’s waist.

Terry might not be nervous, but Morgan kind of was, once he was

able to think about it. This was a first for him, too. It was the first time
he was ever making love with anyone instead of just having sex for
the sake of sex. It was the first time he and a lover kissed and gently
got into position beneath the covers, instead of rutting like animals on
top of them, and it would be the first time he ever actually cared about
the person he was with.

A thought suddenly occurred to him as Terry’s thighs squeezed

around him. They still had no lube. Terry was a werewolf and would
still be able to enjoy it if they went without, just like the last time, but

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that wasn’t good enough for Morgan. The last time they’d been
caught up in claiming each other. Now it was more about just the two
of them enjoying each others’ bodies. Morgan didn’t know if that
would be the same, or even enough for Terry to be able to handle
what was to come.

“Let me up, I need to get something,” he said.
Terry’s eyes went wide. “What? Where are you going?”
He asked the question as though he thought Morgan might not be

coming back.

Morgan quickly planted a chaste kiss on his lips. “Don’t worry. I

just have to grab something really quick.”

Reluctantly, Terry loosened his legs and allowed Morgan to climb

out of bed. He could feel the younger man’s eyes on him as he jogged
into the bathroom.

If the owners of this place used it as a summer house, then there

was bound to be some hand cream, lotion, or sunscreen, or anything
that he could use.

Morgan started searching through the bottom cupboard beneath

the sink first, moving towels and other items around in a sloppy
fashion until he found what he was looking for.

He sighed. It was one of those big bottles of hand cream with a

pump. One of the nicer brands that would be of some actual use to
them, and judging by the weight of the thing there was still plenty
inside. Thank God.

Morgan returned to bed, and he watched through the darkness as

Terry’s eyes went from curious to eager at the sight of the bottle.
Yeah, he knew what it was for.

“Lie back,” he said, and Terry did as he was told as Morgan

brought the bottle under the covers with them, and settled back
between Terry’s legs.

“You’re going to like it so much more with this,” Morgan said. As

he wet his fingers with the lotion and trailed them down to Terry’s
asshole, he kept his eyes on the other man’s face. He loved the way

Marcy Jacks

those pale-green eyes widened slightly at the intrusion, the way his
pink lips parted when Morgan began thrusting them inside of him,
stretching him.

Morgan especially loved the way Terry’s breathing became quick

and how his hands gripped Morgan’s back until his fingernails dug
into the skin.

Morgan began scissoring his fingers, making absolutely sure that

Terry was going to be ready for him. Though they’d done this without
any sort of lubrication, other that Morgan’s saliva, earlier today, that
didn’t mean he could just shove into the other man now that they had
something that could be used to ease the way. Werewolf or not,
preparations still needed to be made. They’d been consumed by lust
and the need to mate the last time, but now, even though he could
hardly stand it, Morgan needed to be patient. He was going to do this
right.

All that went out the window when Morgan’s fingers brushed up

against that spongy nub inside of his mate, and Terry threw his head
back into the pillows and arched his back.

His hips were gyrating wildly now. “Fuck me, Morgan. I want it

now. I’m ready.”

That was more than enough invitation for him. By now Morgan

had to shove off the blankets covering them just to be able to do this
right without anything getting in his way or preventing him from
seeing.

The cold air on their heated bodies felt good, and Terry moaned

again at it. Morgan’s cock jumped in response, and he had to take it in
hand and quickly grip the base to keep himself from coming before he
was inside of his lover.

Just touching himself was enough to give him a jolt of pleasure

that was difficult to fight against. “Fuck, I love the sounds you make.”

“Yes,” Terry hissed, though whether he was moaning his

agreement for what Morgan was doing or just giving Morgan more of
those sounds he liked, he couldn’t be sure.

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Morgan lined up the head of his cock with Terry’s hole, and he

pushed himself inside, taking extra time with it because he wanted it
to last.

Terry breathed through his teeth, but he gave no sign that he

wanted Morgan to stop.

“That’s nice. Keep going,” he said.
Morgan did, and it nearly killed him how he could only gently

thrust his hips, pushing himself inside only another inch before
stopping, waiting for Terry’s body to adjust to him.

Terry’s eyes were squeezed shut, his neck and jaw clenched.

Apparently he’d also been holding his breath because he released it in
a hard whoosh when he finally opened his eyes.

Then his body finally opened to Morgan, and Morgan pushed

himself the rest of the way inside, until his balls touched against
Terry’s ass.

Now, instead of his face clenching up, Terry’s mouth opened in a

long, breathy moan, his eyes going wide once more as Morgan
touched the other man’s prostate with his cock.

Terry started humping wildly against him, reminding him of

earlier that day when they’d had sex.

“FuckmeIneedyoutofuckmerightnowohGod!” Terry said, speaking

so quickly that Morgan almost didn’t understand him.

His body language said enough, and Morgan began thrusting

inside of him with all the strength and animal need he had inside him.

Terry’s hips pushed back against Morgan’s, and his legs became

so tight around Morgan’s waist that it made him think of one of those
huge snakes from the amazon, choking the life out of prey.

He didn’t dare stop, even when it got to be hard for him to

breathe. “Baby, you’re so tight,” he said, referring to the legs around
his waist and that ring of muscle that squeezed his cock.

Terry gripped him tighter, his hands, his legs, his ass all clenching

around him, which made Morgan never want to leave this spot.

There was nothing he could do for it except shift his hips and

Marcy Jacks

pump them harder until Terry was crying out for him.

Then Morgan felt the teeth against his neck.
He didn’t dare stop. Not when it felt so fucking good what he was

doing. Really, he shrugged it off anyway. A lot of wolves liked to bite
their lovers during sex, why should Terry be any different?

Then the teeth broke his skin, and right after Morgan finished

coming, his body going tight as every muscle on his body clenched
through the satisfaction, he passed out.

Mated to the Wild Omega

Chapter Eight

He wasn’t in la-la land for very long. He knew this because the

alarm on the nightstand, some glow-in-the-dark take on one of those
old bell alarm clocks, didn’t show that much time had passed.

The only thing worth panicking over was how his bed was empty.
Morgan shot up, the dried fluids that had glued him to the

bedsheets coming apart with a gross kind of crunching noise.

He had to tell himself not to panic. Nick was still in the house, and

if Terry had gone wild again and tried to leave, the other man
would’ve been downstairs and would have stopped him before he
could get outside.

It hadn’t yet been two hours, so Nick should still be awake and on

watch.

Morgan brought his hand up to his neck, touching the bite mark.

There was only a little blood, and it was dry. Terry had only bitten out
of instinct, not to hurt him, but now he was gone, and Morgan had to
find him.

He shivered. Goddamn it was cold in here.
He raced downstairs. Nick was sitting in the dark by one of the

windows. He turned his head toward the sound of Morgan’s rushing
feet on the stairs.

“Did Terry come down here?”
Nick got to his feet. “No. Isn’t he up there?”
Fuck. Morgan ran back upstairs. Maybe his mate had just walked

into the bathroom for a minute and Morgan was being an idiot. He
really hoped that was the case.

It wasn’t. Morgan no longer cared about conserving power in case

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the owner were to find out that someone had come to his house. He
turned on all the lights upstairs and called out for his mate. He even
looked under the beds and in the closets. Just in case.

“His scent is still strong. If he left, it wasn’t very long ago,” Nick

said.

“How the hell did he get out?” Morgan snapped.
“Why would he want to leave at all?” Nick asked.
Morgan hated the hint of accusation in the other man’s voice. He

wasn’t even going to contemplate that idea that Terry had wanted to
leave Morgan on purpose.

“He’s still wild. That doesn’t go away in a day,” he said, annoyed

with the other man. “His animal side probably took over, and he was
scared and confused and left.”

“His human mind was still in enough control to sneak out the

window,” Nick said, moving toward the only window in the bedroom
that Morgan and Terry had been sharing.

“What?”
Morgan followed his friend, and only then was he able to notice

the slight breeze of freezing air coming through the bottom of the
window pane.

Terry had opened the window, let himself out, and then shut it

again as silently as he could, but it hadn’t shut all the way. That was
why it was so cold in here. Not because there was no heat in the
house, but because of the freezing air from outside getting into the
room.

“We have to find him before he gets far,” Nick said, turning away

from the window.

“If he’s found by other wild werewolves or picked up by

hunters…”

Morgan was glad that Nick didn’t finish that sentence. He could

hardly think about what those people would do to his mate if they got
ahold of him.

He looked out the window. The snow was still coming down in

Mated to the Wild Omega

thick, cotton-ball-sized flakes, but visibility had definitely improved.

They were going to have to shift into their wolf forms to be able

to travel at all out there, not to mention track which direction Terry
had gone off in.

“Right. Let’s go.”

* * * *

Terry couldn’t run. The snow was piled too high for that, and his

hind legs and front paws were practically killing him from the strain
on his body it took for him to push through that much snow. He had
to keep making these awkward jumps just to press on.

He could smell them. Smell his friends. He needed to get to them.

He had to save them.

Suddenly, Terry came to a stop, his ears perking up sharply on top

of his head.

Voices. Human voices come from just down that dark path. At

least in the summer it was probably a path. Right now it was just
another tall stretch of untouched snow that the trees all made room
for.

The voices were coming from down that way, and so was the

scent of his friends.

Charlie, Jay, and Alecia. They were down there.
Terry growled low in his throat, instincts taking command of his

mind and body that had previously never been there before. The
instinct to attack and defend was the most prominent of what he felt.

He pressed on, making new tracks as he slowly traveled down the

snowy path. Closer to the end, he ducked into the safety of the heavy
pines, counting on them to hide him while he searched for the
members of his pack that had been stolen.

The clearing was lit, thanks in part to a large fire, and even

shoveled enough to keep the tents from being buried under the snow.
One of the shovels was propped up against a birch tree on the other

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side of the clearing. It looked as though this space would need
shoveling again soon.

There were loud complaints coming from the inside of the largest

tent in the middle.

More human words, and though he knew the language, right now,

for some reason, he couldn’t understand what the words meant.

“I’m telling you that we need to sell those pelts. I’m not staying in

a tent all the way through winter. I did that last year. I’m not doing it
again this year.”

The answering voice was a whining one. “But I bagged these two

myself on the last hunt! You were with me. You saw it! Why do you
get to keep yours but I have to sell mine?”

“I’m keeping only one. Selling one won’t feed us or keep us out

of this shit weather for the rest of winter. Just sell yours, and the next
wolves you get you can keep as many as you can skin.”

“But I―”
“I also get to decide because I’m in charge. I brought you into

this, and you’re going to do as I say.”

Terry moved away from the tent. Though if he listened long

enough, he thought he could make out some of the meaning of what
was being said, but mostly, he just got angry vibes.

He carefully toed his way out of his hiding place within the

drooping branches of the pine tree, and he moved toward the next
tent.

There were other sounds and smells coming from within that he

wanted to investigate. Some of it smelled like gasoline, and some
smelled like his friends. The rest smelled like sex.

There was a light on inside the tent, maybe that was where the gas

scent was coming from, so he could make out the dark forms of the
two men within. The one was letting out guttural moans and grunts,
thrusting his hips wildly as he lay on his back and held the other
man’s head down between his legs.

Neither of those two possessed the scents of the wolves Terry was

Mated to the Wild Omega

searching for, though the one man between the other’s legs didn’t
have the scent of a human at all. He was something else.

Something shifted behind him, and Terry spun around.
The arrowhead shape of a wolf head peeked out from within the

exact hiding place Terry had once occupied.

It was his mate. He looked angry.
Terry crouched, though he did not curl his tail between his legs.

His friends! He could smell them! They were here!

He tried to tell his mate this with a small whine, but his mate

stepped forward, eyes sharp, lips pulled back to reveal his teeth, while
the hair on the back of his head stood on end.

He didn’t growl, but it was a command for silence if Terry ever

heard one.

Looking at him pointedly, his mate turned and walked back in the

bushes, looking over his shoulder at him once more before vanishing
into the darkness.

This time Terry’s tail did curl, and he followed his mate as he was

silently commanded.

He had an easier time of it following him back to their den than

when Terry had first left it.

This was because the trail Terry had made when he first came was

now just a little wider since his mate had followed him on it, and now
he and Terry were keeping to the same path as they went back. It still
made the muscles in Terry’s body ache.

He tried to get up behind his mate, whining for his attention,

trying to tell him what was happening, but the growls coming from
his mate were not to be argued with.

Finally, they made it back to the large structure where they had

made their den. Terry would prefer to sleep outside, cuddling for
warmth with his mate curled around him, but it was so much warmer
inside the odd and angular cave that he didn’t offer any protest when
he followed his mate inside.

Then his mate made the shift to two feet, and though he looked

Marcy Jacks

ridiculous without any fur on him, his face squashed in, and his claws
and tail gone, that sense of deep anger remained.

“Terry, I know you can hear me in there. You scared the shit out

of me,” he said, in that familiar language Terry could barely
understand. “You can’t ever do that again. Do you understand? They
could’ve killed you if they’d realized you were there.”

That other naked wolf on two legs appeared next, cold air blowing

through the open entrance to the cave as he let himself in. The
gushing wind and snow was then gone as he shut the mouth of their
den.

The other naked wolf―a man, Terry realized, recalling that

word’s meaning―rubbed his hands together for warmth.

“Scented the two of you coming back.” Then the man sniffed the

air. “He’s still in wolf form?”

“Yeah, still a little on the wild side, too, from what I can tell. He

walked right into the hunter’s camp, Nick. There’s wolf tracks leading
straight here from them.”

The other man hissed in a breath. “Maybe we’ll be better to leave

an hour or two before dawn instead of right at first light.”

“Better make it two hours,” his mate―Morgan―said. “I don’t

think I’ll be getting much more sleep tonight.

“Try and get something. I’ll keep a better watch out for his scent,

make sure he doesn’t try to leave again.”

Morgan nodded, and with another one of those looks at Terry, he

walked toward the stairs leading up. “Come on. We’re going back to
bed.”

That had not been a command. His mate sounded tired, and with

some fear, Terry hesitated before following him.

Finally, Morgan looked down at him from halfway up the stairs.

“Come.”

That Terry had to obey.
He trotted up the stairs, the route to him somewhat familiar, and

he moved toward another hole in the wall that led to a smaller den

Mated to the Wild Omega

with a large nest. He jumped in, sniffed, circled, and then settled,
waiting for his mate to come and punish him.

When Morgan appeared in the doorway, Terry’s tail thumped

hopefully, but he still lowered his head onto his paws.

Morgan sighed at the sight of him, resting his forehead on the

back of his hand, which was also gripping the door frame. “This is
why I would never make a good leading alpha. I can’t take
disobedient omegas out in front of everyone and dominate them for
punishment. Even though you do deserve it right now.”

His voice was hard toward the end of that sentence, and with a

jerk, Terry realized that he understood every word. The tone, the
meaning, all of it.

His human side was coming back, right in time to be shamed by

his mate for being so completely and utterly stupid.

He was right. Terry would deserve it.
Now that he had control of his mind back, Terry made the shift

back into his human form.

The change always felt odd, like his body was being stretched out

farther than it was meant to go. The snap of his bones never hurt him.
He was too used to it. He only realized at the last second that because
he’d made the change on the bed, he’d just shed a boatload of hair
onto the messy covers.

That was going to have to be shaken out before either of them

could sleep in it.

Terry stepped out of bed and stood before his mate. He clutched

his hands in front of him, hardly knowing what to do with himself or
all the guilt he was feeling.

He kind of wished Morgan would just take him outside and throw

him onto his back in a show of alpha dominance. At least that way he
couldn’t be feeling all this guilt.

“I…I don’t know what happened,” Terry said.
Morgan nodded, stepping away from the doorframe. “I know. It’s

not like I can blame you. Your wolf is still uncontrollable, and it’s not

Marcy Jacks

like I can hold that against you. Thank God you’re omega. Otherwise
it might actually be something of a problem.”

Just thinking about what he’d done, and where he’d gone, made

Terry sick to his stomach. Really, his guts churned, and he thought he
might vomit all over the floor. He put his hand over his stomach, as
though that would somehow calm it, and held onto the wooden bed
frame with his free hand to keep from falling over as his knees shook.

Morgan was beside him in an instant.
“Hey, you don’t have to worry. I wasn’t going to do anything. I

would never hurt you.”

So not what Terry had been worried about. “Not that,” he said,

recalling what he’d seen, and everything he heard came back to him
in a stark clarity he wished he didn’t have. “Oh God.”

Morgan’s hands were on him now, keeping him steady. The other

man tore the furry blanket from the bed and eased him onto the
mattress. Terry was nearly hysterical by now, and he fisted his hair,
the pain keeping him here and human before he could let his wolf out
again, even by accident.

Morgan’s hands were on his cheeks. “What did you hear?”
So he knew Terry had heard something to do this to him. The man

was smart.

Terry sniffled, and as he opened his mouth to tell him the horrible

things he’d heard, he crumpled and started to cry.

Morgan hugged him, like he was some kind of little kid who

needed to be comforted before they could relax. Terry hated that he
was so weak that he couldn’t even let his mate know what was going
on without crying about it, but he found himself relaxing into
Morgan’s arms, regardless. He released the painful grip he had on his
hair and held the other man back, clutching him for dear life as
Morgan rubbed his back and shushed him.

“I…I don’t know…what made me go wild again,” Terry said

between gasps of air. Morgan flinched, but Terry continued. “But I
scented some of my friends. I went to…find them. I don’t know why I

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thought they were still alive but…”

“It’s okay. Our wolves, when we’re not in sync with them, they

think differently than we do. There’s no telling why that happened to
you.”

“They’re dead though. I didn’t understand it when I heard them

talking, but now I do. Those men, they really are hunters. They’re the
hunters who attacked my pack!” Terry said, the realization sending a
spear of terror through him.

Morgan kept right on petting him and making soothing noises, like he

was a frightened puppy. “Okay, I believe you. Try to be calm now.”

“They had three pelts with them. I could smell them. I knew them.

They were talking about selling some of them to afford a place to stay
for the winter.”

Morgan’s neck clenched up, and he cursed before getting off the

bed.

Their sudden separation from each other worried Terry.

“Where―”

“I’m going to tell Nick this. Now that we know for a fact they’re

hunters, our kind of hunters, this isn’t just a precaution anymore. I’ll
be right back.”

Terry lay as still and as quiet as he could, hearing the muffled

voices coming from downstairs as Morgan explained the situation to
that other werewolf. True to his word, he came back quickly.

“We’re definitely getting up before dawn tomorrow. Hunters tend

to come out at around that time, so it’s best if we’re up and running
before they are.”

Terry didn’t say anything. All he could think about was how close

he’d come to the pelts, the skins, of his dead friends. He really hoped
those two hunters hadn’t been using them for covers when they were
having sex.

Terry had calmed down enough that he almost didn’t notice when

Morgan came up and gently ran his fingers through his hair.

“Your wolf must have some superior senses for you to have been

Marcy Jacks

able to scent those…your friends, all the way over there from right
here. Even Nick can’t pick anything up on them. Or the hunters from
this distance.”

Terry looked at him. “Really?”
Morgan nodded.
Terry had never thought about his sense of smell or hearing

before. He was an omega, so it wasn’t like there was any reason for
him to get into a competition with the alphas over who had the better
anything. “Why are my senses so good?”

Morgan shrugged. “Don’t know. Maybe it was the time you spend

by yourself in the wild. Being so in tune with your animal side might
have that effect since you would’ve had to rely on them so much.
Nick’s senses improved after he went blind and had to learn how to
hunt for himself.”

Terry’s eyes widened. “He’s blind?”
“Yes.”
“How will he keep watch?”
“He’s very skilled at what he does. Don’t you worry, but I will

have to go down there and take his place after a while so he can have
a chance to sleep.”

Terry didn’t know how he was going to sleep at all after what had

just happened. “You’re staying here with me though, right?”

Morgan was already climbing into bed with him. “Of course.”
Because Morgan had to toss away the blanket with all the fur on

it, they snuggled together under the sheets of the bed, using body heat
for warmth, which was something Terry much rather preferred. While
he did stay wide awake, afraid and in no mood for sleep for the next
several minutes, the deep and easy breathing of the man spooned up
behind him lulled until he finally went under, too, but all he saw in his
dreams were the twisted faces of his friends, their wolves crying out,
struggling and screaming as they were skinned alive.

Those hunters wanted to do all that and more to Morgan, Nick,

and Terry.

Mated to the Wild Omega

Chapter Nine

Morgan felt like he hadn’t slept at all when Nick softly took him

by the shoulder and shook him awake. Grudgingly, he got out of the
warm space beside his mate, careful not to wake the other man as he
finally seemed to be sleeping peacefully, and then went downstairs to
do his time while Nick caught a few z’s.

He found that the ice-cold water from the kitchen tap splashed

against his face was a good way to wake up, and it helped, but it was
still torture watching the clock and keeping his nose and ears open for
any possible coming attack.

How in the hell Nick did this was baffling. Morgan was going to

have to ask him how he was able to tell how much time had passed
without one of those clocks for the visually impaired, too.

Because it was winter, dawn didn’t come until much later in the

morning now, but when five o’clock rolled around and the snow
finally showed signs of stopping, he still went and obediently woke
up Nick from where he slept in the other bedroom. Then he went and
shook Terry awake.

“Come on, it’s time to go.”
Terry’s eyes were swollen with sleep, and his face was miserable

with having to get up, but he rose from bed right away.

Getting back to the pack with their lives intact was always more

important than sleep.

They ate the last of the rice they cooked and tidied up as quickly

as possible, though Morgan was pretty sure the owner would be aware
that someone had stayed here, especially because of the broken door.
There was nothing that could be done about that now, and when five-

Marcy Jacks

thirty came, they were trudging barefoot out into the snow.

The dark morning sky was clear. The stars were still out. Morgan

checked the trail that he and Terry had traveled on.

Nick’s tracks had vanished from the snow, but there was still

something left of Terry’s and Morgan’s.

“There’s no telling when they’ll wake up. The second they do and

they see those tracks, they’ll start gunning it back here,” Morgan said.

Terry shivered.
Nick looked at the new addition to their group. “If you transform,

will you be able to keep control of your wolf?”

The uncertainty on Terry’s face was answer enough.
“Your wolf will listen to me,” Morgan assured him. “He did last

night. He’ll follow us back to our pack. Everything will be fine.”

Terry thought about that for a few seconds, and seemed to come to

a decision before he nodded his head and handed control over to his
wolf.

It was a gray wolf, now that Morgan bothered to look at him and

take note of the type. He was small, smaller than Morgan and Nick,
about the size of a regular wolf.

Terry cocked his head up at them after he finished shaking out his

coat, as though asking what they were doing standing around.

“Right, let’s get out of here,” Morgan said, allowing the shift to

come over him.

The change from two legged to four was always something he

enjoyed. It felt like he was getting his vertebrae popped and stretched
in that pleasant way that he liked as his bones rearranged themselves.
The cold hadn’t been bothering him too much, but now that he had a
fur coat to protect himself with, as well as the thick padding under his
paws, he was more than warm enough to take on the rest of their trip.

He shook out the loose hairs from his coat just as Terry did, and

when Nick was on all fours, he did the same.

They were going to have to rely entirely on body language for this

last trip back to their pack, but that was all right. It wasn’t like there

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would be much to say so long as they stayed out of sight of hunters.

Morgan yipped, giving the signal to Nick, and he tore off through

the snow, heading for home.

* * * *

The tracks were faded thanks to the heavy snowfall that only let

up less than an hour ago, but it was obvious to Tatum what animal
they belonged to.

He opened up the second tent, the smell of sex wafting out, but

that only angered him more.

The two men were fully clothed inside and tucked within their

separate sleeping bags, but it was pretty obvious to Tatum what
they’d been doing to distract them from keeping watch last night like
they were supposed to. Tatum kicked Anthony in the side, the jostle
and curse of the other man waking up Storm.

“Get your asses out here, the both of you!” he yelled, then went

back out to stand in front of the tracks. He only had to wait maybe
twenty seconds before they showed up and he could point down at the
tracks.

“What the fucking hell do you think those are?”
Anthony looked down at them curiously, but it was Storm who

answered. “Wolf tracks.”

That made Anthony tense up. “No way did a werewolf come here

without us knowing it.”

“You think this is just a coincidence, you faggot?” Tatum sneered.
Anthony snarled back at him. Storm had to put a hand on his

shoulder.

“Tony, don’t.”
Ugh, Tatum had to turn away. He should’ve known better than to

bring these two in, but how could he have known they were like that
when he brought them onto his team? Storm sometimes looked like he
could barely tolerate Anthony at all.

Marcy Jacks

And what kind of stupid-ass name was Storm for a man anyway?

Fucking hippies.

“Chance! Wake your ass up! Right now! We’re heading out!”
Tatum ran to the shrubs where he’d hidden their Ski-Doos, and he

breathed a deep sigh when he found them still intact. Not a scratch on
them. He turned one of them on and listened to the sputter and vroom
of the engine as it came to life.

They weren’t exactly brand new, but they were fast and did the

job during the winter hunts.

Chance came out of the tent he’d been sharing with Tatum,

rubbing his eyes and holding onto his sleeping bag like it was a baby
blanket or something. “What’s going on?”

“There are tracks. We’re going to follow them,” Anthony

answered for him.

Chance’s eyes widened. “Tracks? Here?”
“Yes, here,” Tatum snapped, sending one last hateful look toward

the two love birds. “Pack your shit up. We’re following them and
seeing where they lead us.”

“The sun is barely up!” Chance whined.
Tatum pulled the Glock he carried in his holster and pointed it at

the kid’s head, which was harder to do than it sounded just because of
all the layers he was wearing.

Chance put his hands up and backed up a step. “Right now then.

Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Tatum put the gun away and started packing up their

tents.

* * * *

Tony glared at Storm when Tatum was out of ear shot. He’d told

that man that he hated being called Anthony, but their leader seemed
to insist on it, especially now that he was under the impression that
Tony had failed in some way.

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“You were supposed to be keeping your nose up in case you

smelled anything coming,” he seethed.

Storm wouldn’t look at him. He just continued stuffing the tent

into the holder with the rest of the poles and ropes. “A little hard for
me to scent anything with your dick in my mouth.”

Tony wanted to punch him. He also wanted to throw the man

down and fuck him right there where Tatum and Chance could see. It
might even be good for Chance to see since Tony was almost a
hundred percent certain that the kid swung that way.

And was a virgin. Watching how it was done might finally get

him to man up a little.

“Watch your mouth,” Tony sneered, though even after last night,

he was still watching Storm’s mouth with particular interest. “I could
let it slip any time I want about what you are.”

“I know,” Storm answered, as though the threat hardly bothered

him at all.

Again, Tony felt the urge to throw him down and plunder him. He

wanted to take his mouth, his ass, his everything.

Maybe he was only so sexually attracted to Storm because of what

the other man was. The whole forbidden fruit thing. Tony had hunted
Storm’s species all his life, and now that he had one, one that was
alive instead of just a skin on his wall, that was, he felt like he owned
the world.

To have a werecat for a companion, whether the were in question

liked it or not, was just too good for him to throw away by just killing
the man outright, especially when Storm gave such good head.

He liked it. Storm didn’t want to admit it, but he liked it. Maybe

that was another reason why Tony kept him alive.

He grabbed Storm by that perfectly straight and tight ponytail of

his and yanked his face closer until they were kissing. Storm wasn’t
worried that Tony would have him killed because he knew that Tony
was whipped. Tony would never kill this man. Storm belonged to
him, and he would make sure that they remained together.

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They both stood when they finished packing their things some

five minutes later, though Tatum was yelling at them to get a move
on.

A hunter had to be able to move quickly or they would never

catch their prey.

“Hurry up! We’re losing time here!”
The sun wasn’t exactly close to appearing yet, not with the way

winter time worked, but the stars were fading, and they were falling
behind.

Tatum and Chance took the one Ski-Doo while Tony and Storm

rode on the other. Because weres were shit at riding things like this,
Tony made sure that he was in the driver’s seat while Storm held onto
him from behind.

He couldn’t wait to find whatever it was that had come into their

camp. If it was nothing, good, they could come back here and
regroup, and maybe Tony would be able to take Storm again. If it
really was a werewolf wandering around in that kind of weather, then
he would skin the stupid bastard, and then take Storm because a
victory fuck was always the best.

Mated to the Wild Omega

Chapter Ten

Even with the sky clear, the wind still, and no snow to hinder

them, it was a complete pain in the ass traveling like this. The snow
went up to Morgan’s chest, and he was pretty big for a wolf. He
considered himself to be, at any rate. Still, he had to make the odd
jump here and there from where the snow hindered him or was too
hard for him to press through.

It would have been so much easier if it had been a dry snow, but

no, it was sticky, which meant that every five steps he managed to
take, the snow stuck together so much and so hard that he couldn’t
take another step, and he would have to jump over.

Every once in a while he let out a yip. Nick and Terry dutifully

yipped behind him, no sounds of tired whines in their replies. They
were still there, and they were still doing just fine.

They also had another two and a half hours of traveling ahead of

them, at best.

At least they were far enough away that those hunters wouldn’t

catch up to them when they woke up to find the tracks.

* * * *

Tatum followed those tracks all the way back to that house they’d

been at the day before. It was difficult to identify tracks that wind and
snow had mostly erased, but the fact that they went right up the porch
to the cabin, and all the way to the door, was a concern.

Anthony rode in from another path. “Storm found signs of an

animal coming in from this direction, too.”

Marcy Jacks

Could these people have owned dogs? He hadn’t seen any, but he

didn’t want to rule it out just yet.

He got up from his seat, leaving Chance alone on Ski-Doo,

waiting for him, and walked toward the door. He would knock and
ask if the owner had seen any wolves around.

Just in case. If it had been dogs, and Storm was wrong, then it

would be logical that the dogs had caught the scent of one of these
idiots and followed them back to camp.

He stopped when he made it to the door. The sun was barely

peeking up over the horizon, but there was more than enough light for
him to see the way the door frame was splintered by the handle.

“What is it, Tatum?” Chance called.
Tatum pushed against the door. It took only a little effort, but it

came open after the ice broke away.

Not locked, and the handle was busted. Those men hadn’t

belonged here after all.

He turned around and started back toward the Ski-Doo. “You

were right, Storm. Wolves, and they knew we were coming.”

He looked down at the tracks, searching for where those wolves

could have headed. Likely back to the neighboring pack that he’d
attacked in the fall, but which direction had they gone in? And would
he be able to catch them before they got back? He certainly didn’t
have the manpower he did back then, and he and those other men had
had their asses kicked.

He rode along, following the tracks back from whence they came,

Anthony and Storm riding right behind him.

“Did they come this way?” Chance asked.
“Maybe.”
Then he saw it, the way the snow scraped and swished in an odd

way compared to the rest of the untouched snow, just off to the side of
the tracks and right into the trees.

It was classic, right out of that Disney movie with the Dalmatians.

The wolves had tried to cover their tracks by keeping to the trail

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they’d already made, and then they’d jumped into the trees before
making their run for it.

He doubted they would be able to sweep their tracks away with

the branch of a pine, however.

“They went this way!” he yelled, signaling for Anthony to follow

him. He found a new, smaller path around the trees, and then they
found the much fresher tracks again. They were in business. The
tracks were messy from all the snow hindering them, but they were so
fresh that he and Storm were able to look down at them and tell that
they belonged to large wolves. Werewolves.

Anthony shouted in excitement, revving his Ski-Doo, and the four

of them sped off to catch their prize.

* * * *

They were another two hours away from the pack when Morgan

jolted to a stop. He perked his ears, hearing what sounded like a giant
bee, coming in from far away.

He looked behind himself. Nick was on alert as well, facing the

direction the noise came from, every muscle in his body tense. Terry
whined, his chest constricting as his wolf cried.

Nick yipped and skittered ahead of Morgan. He stopped, and then

he jumped forward once more.

The wolf signal to run. Got it.
Morgan went through the snow and clamped his teeth around

Terry’s neck, shaking the omega and forcing him to be calm. They
couldn’t run, but they jumped over the snow will all the eager
desperation they had used when they first started this morning.

The buzzing sound grew louder. An engine. Next Morgan heard

the obnoxious laughing that came from the hunters riding them.

Fuck. They had fucking Ski-Doos.
They wouldn’t be able to outrun them.
Morgan quickly shifted back onto two legs. “Nick! Come back!”

Marcy Jacks

Nick was still ahead of them, but he was making sure to stay

close. He turned at the sound of Morgan’s voice and headed back.

Terry sat at Morgan’s feet, his head still looking back in the

distance at where the noise was coming from.

They had maybe two minutes before those hunters came into

view.

“Okay, listen to me,” Morgan said when Nick was close enough to

touch. “Take Terry back to the pack, I’ll head them off and distract
them.”

Nick growled.
Morgan was not a leading alpha, but in this situation, he needed to

be. He grabbed Nick by the scruff and forced him down onto his side
with more force than he intended. He leaned in close, making sure the
other were heard him.

“Terry doesn’t know the way and needs one of us to show him.

Get the cavalry and follow my scent back to wherever it is they take
me. I’ll try and stay alive till then.”

He let Nick get back onto four legs. “Do you understand?”
Nick snorted but nodded. His jaws opened as he grabbed Terry’s

around the neck and began pulling him away.

Terry resisted, crying that dog cry that put a lance through

Morgan’s heart as he lay down on his belly, staring up at Morgan. He
didn’t understand what was happening. The wolf was in control, and
it wanted to stay with Morgan.

The noise of the engine got to be louder. Morgan didn’t have time

for this, not if they were going to get away safely.

He slapped Terry on the rump, hard. Terry yipped and jumped,

slowly moving along with Nick but still looking back at him.

Morgan shifted back into the wolf. He growled menacingly at his

mate. “Go! Go!” he commanded mentally, showing the omega his
teeth to let him know that he meant business.

Terry stopped fighting Nick and started moving with him. Morgan

watched them run away, still jumping over the mounds of snow.

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Terry would forgive him. If he lived through this.
Morgan raced with every ounce of strength he had inside him

back the way he came, following the path that he and the others had
created. He ran as though his life depended on it.

If those hunters captured and killed Terry, it would kill Morgan,

too. Terry was his life now. He wasn’t about to let these hunters hurt
him!

When the roaring Ski-Doos came into sight, Morgan cursed.
Two of them. There were four hunters on the two Ski-Doos. What

if both of them didn’t follow him?

He couldn’t think of anything to do other than make himself the

easier target. He kept right on running at them, until he could see the
whites in their eyes through the wind goggles they wore.

Then he veered off the path and ran into the trees.
The blast of a shotgun followed him. He heard the explosion of

splinters as the heavy pellets struck the tree he’d just dodged behind.

Both Ski-Doos followed him. He could hear the engines and the

laughter of the hunters, and they chased after what was to be an easy
target.

Well, with the way the snow was still slowing him down, he

would be easy to catch all right. He just hoped he could cause enough
of a problem for these men and stay away long enough that Nick and
Terry could get away.

Another gunshot followed him into the trees. They were right on

his tail now. Too close to have missed unless…

They were fucking with him. They knew they were going to catch

him, and now they were just trying to scare him.

Well, he was scared all right. He didn’t want to end up being a

pelt on any of their walls. He wanted to see Terry’s face again,
wanted to kiss him, to get to know him.

He pushed himself harder, searching for anything that he could

use as shelter. A cave or a stream that hadn’t frozen over yet that he
could run along. Anything.

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One of the Ski-Doos rode up right beside him. Yeah, they were

definitely fucking with him.

“Let me guess who you are. The nice man from the cabin who

asked if we were okay?” said the driver, and the smaller man behind
him was loading red shells into a break-open shotgun then snapped it
shut when he finished.

“Bet you werewolf piece of shit would’ve tried to eat us if we’d

asked to stay the night.”

“Yeah!” shouted the smaller man in the bitch seat.
Then he pointed the gun right at Morgan’s face.
Morgan did the only thing he could think of to do in that kind of

panicked situation. He jumped at the driver.

The scream as the man lost control of the Ski-Doo, crashing it into

a leafless shrub, as well as the splash of blood in Morgan’s mouth,
was so satisfying.

There was still one more Ski-Doo and two more hunters to worry

about, so he kept on going, even when the two hunters still in control
of their vehicle stopped to check on their fallen friends.

The driver, whose hand Morgan had bitten, was screaming

something awful at the hunter who’d pointed the gun at Morgan’s
face.

Morgan reminded himself that he had to stop, to stay close so he

could remain a proper target lest they give up on him and start chasing
after Nick and Terry again.

“You fucking idiot! What did you think you were doing!”
“I was trying to―”
The hunter Morgan bit slapped the guy full on the face, like he

was some kind of girl or something. It left a long streak of blood
across the other guy’s cheek.

“You don’t actually fucking shoot it with a shotgun if you want to

preserve the pelt!”

The other man reached his hand up to touch his face and then

looked at his bloodied fingers.

Mated to the Wild Omega

“Did it bite you?”
The man that Morgan was going to assume was the leader from

here on out turned away from him in disgust, just as one of the other
hunters put his hand under his jacket, as though he was reaching for a
gun. Terry was right. Now that Morgan had seen him up close, even
with all that winter gear on, he recognized him as one of the hunters
who’d attacked his pack over two months ago.

“Of course not, you idiot. That fucking thorny bush shredded my

hand when you fucked up and made the wolf panic.”

“Are you sure?” said the man with his hand on a gun.
Their leader rounded on him. “Of course I’m fucking sure! You

really think I would want to be a werewolf?” He spat into the snow.
“If one of those diseased flea-ridden things ever sinks its teeth in me,
I’ll put myself out of my misery.”

Morgan smiled an openmouthed, tongue-lolling dog smile, but in

his mind, he was grinning evilly. He had bitten that hunter. He could
still taste the blood in his mouth.

He just didn’t want to admit it to the rest of his hunter buddies in

case they took him prisoner, waited for him to transform, and skinned
him instead.

The easy targets were always the better ones, after all.
“Find those fucking wolves!” the lead hunter shrieked.
Morgan had to come out of his hiding place. He barked a shrill-

sounding bark to get their attention before they could go after Nick
and Terry.

They all turned as one, saw how close Morgan was to them, and

then jumped back onto their snow mobiles.

Morgan had to run again, as much as he could in all this snow. He

didn’t know how much longer he could do this for, because unless he
found a good place to hold up until backup arrived, they were going
to catch him eventually.

He just hoped he hadn’t pissed off that one hunter enough that he

would want to tear the skin right off Morgan’s body the second he

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captured him.

Again, the sounds of the engines grew louder as the hunters came

almost on top of Morgan.

Now that shotguns were banned, Morgan had a little more

confidence in his ability to keep away from them.

Until that other hunter pulled a handgun out of a holster under his

jacket then fired.

Morgan skidded in the snow and turned before the bullet could

make contact with him, but it missed his head by inches. It had been
so close that he felt the heat of the bullet as it soared passed.

“Get a clean shot! Get a clean shot!” someone yelled.
Right. Shotgun pellets would damage his pelt, but a single bullet

wound, provided it was the only one and it killed him, would still
make his pelt valuable to have. His heart pounded faster at the thought
that they would just outright kill him before skinning him. A better
way to go, yes, but he wanted the fighting chance. He wouldn’t let
them kill him!

Easier said than done. His lungs were starting to burn, and no

matter how quickly he took in breaths of cold air, it felt like he wasn’t
breathing at all. There wasn’t enough oxygen to sustain him.

He was getting tired.
When hunting rabbits, wolves usually worked better with the rest

of their pack around.

One wolf would chase the rabbit or whatever animal they were

after in a nice big circle. When that wolf grew too tired, he would step
aside as another took his place, then another, and another, until their
prey became so tired that one of the wolves eventually caught it.

Morgan didn’t have any other members of his pack to take him

out of the field when he got too tired, and right now, he was the prey
that would get caught once he slowed down.

Still, he managed to push it for another thirty minutes before

something yanked him out of his adrenaline-fueled run for his life.
Another shot sounded. This one clipped his ear, and he cried out,

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losing his footing for several seconds and rolling in the snow.

Fuck! That fucking hurt!
When he stopped rolling, he shook his fur out, bright-red blood

spattering all over the clean, white snow. His head throbbed and inner
ear was killing him. Morgan looked up and saw that the hunters had
overshot him when he made that sudden stop and were now turning
around to get back to him.

Morgan pushed himself back on all fours and then cried out, his

wolf whine piercing the air as one of his front paws received a jolt of
pain that went right up his bones.

He struggled to three legs, keeping his paw off the ground. He

must’ve fallen on it wrong during his fall.

He made it three leaps over the thick and heavy snow before he

was forced to stop. His heart was racing so fast, and his tongue
drooped ridiculously in an effort to cool himself down.

He no longer felt the cold. It was hot as hell outside. If he had any

sweat glands, he knew he’d be drenched.

Still, it was almost a relief to allow his body to fall into the snow.

It was sticky as all hell, but it felt as soft as a goose-feather mattress
against his body. He hardly minded it when the hunters rode up in
their snow mobiles.

They must’ve seen the state he was in because they were

confident enough he was down to turn off their engines.

“Did you kill him?” asked one.
The younger one answered. “I guess so. I was aiming for his head,

so, yeah, I must have.”

“There is a good amount of blood pooling at his head, but despite

that, Chance, if you’d done anything other than clip him, he wouldn’t
have been running those last several steps before he went down,” the
leader said. Morgan could just picture the guy rubbing his chin as he
thought out loud. “I think we just ran him down. He’s passed out.”

No. He wasn’t.
“We should kill him now, then,” said another hunter, and the click

Marcy Jacks

of his weapon sounded as he cocked it.

An empty shell landed by Morgan’s head when he did that.
“Yeah, get the pelt while he’s still alive. The fur stays nice that

way.”

Oh, right. Maybe Morgan should do something before they could

skin him right here and now.

He focused as hard as he could on his human form, putting it into

his mind until it was all he could see. His body stretched out and his
fur fell away. He heard the loud curses of the hunters as they stepped
away from him.

Hunters always had been really strange when it came to actually

seeing a werewolf transform. It was like they were afraid of it or
something.

Finally, Morgan was human again, lying in the snow, which felt

somewhat colder against his skin now. It definitely felt a lot more
pleasant after the run he just had, and now that he had sweat glands
again, every inch of his skin started to produce moisture, and not just
the pads of his paws.

“Motherfucker!” one of the hunters yelled. It sounded like

someone kicked the side of their snow mobile in frustration.

Then an angry face came right into Morgan’s line of vision. His

hair was grabbed roughly. It hurt, kind of a lot, actually, but he was
too tired to care about that, or about the snarling face of that hunter he
bit.

“You think this will keep us from skinning you alive, you freak?”
Morgan smiled at him. He had probably a thousand things he

could say to make the hunter all the more pissed off. He had it in
mind to announce that he’d infected the man in front of his friends,
but the smile itself seemed to do it the most.

The hunter slapped him, just like he’d done to his fellow hunter.

Morgan barely felt it.

“Pick him up! We’re taking him and making a new camp.”
“What about the others?” someone asked.

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A voice that Morgan hadn’t heard speak yet chimed into the

conversation. “They won’t follow. If theirs is only a pack of three,
then they will go to the nearest pack for shelter. Their kind won’t
want to risk any more deaths. We should take what bounty we have
and just go.”

Morgan managed to pull together enough energy to lift his head

and look at the speaker.

The guy had a friggin’ eye patch over his eye like some kind of

pirate. Morgan didn’t know people actually wore those in real life.

Morgan didn’t know why or what it meant, but the man’s one eye

met both of Morgan’s and something passed between the both of them
that he didn’t fully understand at first.

When he did, he wanted to sigh with relief.
Whatever this guy’s motivation, he was trying to allow Morgan’s

friend and mate to escape.

“Is that true?” asked the younger one.
“Sometimes,” said their leader. “It depends, but these three must

have been a pack on their own. Otherwise they wouldn’t have been
wandering around out here by themselves, especially in last night’s
weather.”

They all seemed to think it over for another solid thirty seconds. It

was the longest half minute of Morgan’s life.

“We got one for today, and we know there are others out there,”

said their leader. “Selling his pelt and the ones we already have will
more than get us through the winter. Now everything else we catch
will just be profit.”

The faces of other hunters seemed to light up with that news.
“Let’s get him tied off, we’ll make a new camp, wait until he turns

again, and have him skinned in a few days. Then we can start looking
for others.”

That was the best news Morgan had heard in his entire life. Nick

and Terry were going to make it back to the pack, they would be safe,
and if he could hold out long enough and keep them from skinning

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Chapter Eleven

Now that he was no longer in wolf form, there was no need to be

gentle with him.

At first they tried tying his hands behind his back, and Morgan

was still so run down and out of energy that there was little he could
do but let them.

Then the rope had gone around his neck, and they’d tied the other

end to the seat of one of those Ski-Doos they were riding around on.

They’d alternated between speeding up and slowing down, forcing

Morgan to try to run to keep up, but with all the snow he kept tripping
over, it was impossible. After he fell over for the fifth time, this time
flat out refusing to get back onto his feet, even when they dragged
him by the neck a little, they were forced to admit defeat and someone
had to get off their ride and walk with him, holding him by his leash.

It was degrading, but he was too tired to argue. His body wanted

to give in and pass out now that he’d worked through all his
adrenaline. He hoped they planned on feeding him. Something with
protein, preferably. Having only a bowl of rice yesterday for supper,
and this morning for his breakfast, was definitely not enough to keep
his engine going. If he just got some energy in him, he could fight
back, stay awake at the very least. If he accidentally shifted into the
wolf in his sleep, he was fucked.

The man with they eye patch was the one walking with him, both

of them stepping awkwardly over the slightly flattened trail of snow
that the snow mobiles were making.

It shamed Morgan that he couldn’t even pull together the strength

to break the ropes binding his hands and attack the man.

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Overriding that was the curiosity he felt as to why he would

basically offer his vote to allow the others to escape and why he
didn’t smell entirely human, either.

He wanted to ask him what he was. The man walked with a stick

up his ass that Morgan knew had nothing to do with the fact that he
was guarding a prisoner.

He was scared that Morgan was going to rat him out. What the

hell was he?

Morgan was better equipped to handle the cold, even without a fur

coat on him, but now that he was walking, stumbling, through so
much of it and his body was hardly producing any heat at the rate they
were walking, he soon started to freeze.

Again, the man with the eye patch spoke up for him. “I think we

should find someplace soon. It’s starting to turn blue.”

The leader of the hunters stopped the snow mobile he’d been

riding to turn and look back at them. He’d since bandaged his hand
with a strip of a shirt one of the other men had been wearing under a
jacket, but blood still seeped through and stained the yellow material.

He frowned, staring at Morgan, as though determining whether or

not this was a decent place to stop.

“We’ve been moving for nearly three hours now. Those other

wolves aren’t coming back,” Storm―the name Morgan had
heard―said.

Their leader looked around the huge expanse of white in all

directions. There was nothing surrounding them except more snow
and the skeletal reaching hands of leafless trees and shrubs. The only
green came from the pines, and there was very little of that either
considering the blanket of snow that covered them.

“We’ll keep on for another hour. If we find a suitable campsite

that we can hide from those wolves before then, then so be it. I want
no chances.”

Morgan nearly fell over again as he was forced to walk some

more. He could hardly feel his legs, and the urge to fall asleep was a

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small torture in of itself.

He wriggled his wrists around. He needed to get out of here.

* * * *

Nick could smell pack land a good hour before they made it there,

which, even with his senses, was pretty good, considering the fresh
snow that covered absolutely everything.

The farther he traveled with Morgan’s mate, panting behind him,

the more confident he grew that there was no one following him. He
let out a long howl when they were only twenty minutes out,
announcing their arrival.

Adam’s reply howl was milk chocolate for the senses, and he

pushed himself harder, forcing his way through the thick, sticky snow
to get to him.

The yipping sounds of his mate, along with another werewolf, that

kid, John, were what he heard next before he was tackled back into
the snow.

He’d been so excited to get back to his mate that he hadn’t sensed

it coming.

Adam’s happiness must have matched Nick’s because he hardly

seemed to notice, or care, that his claws were digging harshly into
Nick’s pelt as he smothered him with licks and rubbed his body over
Nick’s.

“So glad you’re okay,” Adam said through the mental link that

two mated werewolves shared.

When Nick got back onto four paws, he was quick to start

jumping and nipping and licking back. His tail wagged like it hadn’t
wagged since he was a teenager and he and Adam had met for the
first time.

“Missed you,” he replied.
There were a curious whine behind them, and Nick turned toward

the sound of it.

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Adam and John must have then seen that the other wolf he was

with was not Morgan.

“Who is this?” Adam asked.
They were less than ten minutes outside of the main area for the

pack where all the cabins were. By now they were definitely on pack
land, so Nick felt safe getting back on two legs.

He heard Terry’s frightened whine, and he knew he would have to

get this over with before the wild werewolf could bolt on him.

“This is Morgan’s mate. He’s been taken by the hunters. We need

to see James right now.”

There was silence for about five seconds before he heard the voice

of his mate. Adam’s real voice, not just the sound that appeared inside
Nick’s head whenever they spoke as wolves, which meant that he,
too, had put himself back on human feet.

“All right. Let’s get the both of you back and we can figure out

what to do,” Adam said.

* * * *

Terry jerked awake from what felt like the worst dream he’d ever

had in his entire life. No, not a dream, and he hadn’t been sleeping.
Maybe that was the reason why he felt so exhausted.

He’d just transformed from wolf to man. The air was warm, and

when his skin stopped tingling, he recognized that he was lying in a
bed. His whole body was in a sweat, and when his vision cleared, he
saw the faces of a whole lot of men he didn’t know.

The most prominent, and mean looking, of those faces belonged

to a man with heavy scars that marred his neck, cheek, and to a lesser
extent, right around his right eye and forehead.

He was an alpha. Terry could smell it. Terry’s first reaction was to

skitter out of bed and find safety, but the man put his huge hands on
Terry’s bare shoulders, holding him in place.

“Let me go,” Terry demanded.

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The alpha’s face came a little closer, his dark-brown eyes not

blinking as he stared at Terry. “I am the leading alpha of this pack,
and I am claiming you as my own. You will follow me from this day
on. Do you understand?”

Shit! He was being forced into a new pack! He didn’t want to be

here!

“Morgan!” he yelled, falling under the spell that was commanding

him to bow down and follow like a good omega.

The alpha’s fingers dug just a little deeper, pressing a little harder

into Terry’s skin. “You will follow my command.”

Terry squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, but he

couldn’t help himself. He obeyed the order. “Yes. I will follow.”

Goddamn it if he didn’t hate being an omega right about now.
The alpha didn’t release him until Terry’s body relaxed. He then

got up from where he’d been kneeling by the bed.

Terry wondered what the plans these men had for him were, until

the alpha reached his hand out, and took the scarred hand of another
blond omega in the room.

The other alphas who’d also been in the room to act as witnesses

to Terry’s initiation smiled at him, but there was no malice in their
grins.

“One of us now. The pack keeps on growing.”
“We’ll be a whole village soon if we keep this up.”
Terry tried to think about who these men were, but he didn’t

recognize any of them, or remember coming here.

“Where’s Morgan? And Nick?”
The leading alpha answered him. “Nick is making preparations

with his mate. From what I’ve been told, Morgan had the hunters
chase him to give you both the chance to get here before you could
get caught.”

Terry’s eyes widened, vague and faded memories coming to him

from when he’d been in wolf form and still mostly wild.

Helplessness was the main emotion to envelope him, and fear.

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The certainty of being caught and skinned had overpowered him, but
then his mate had shifted into a man and had spoken to Nick, telling
him to take Terry and run.

Terry hadn’t wanted to go, and Morgan had actually slapped him

to make his wolf flee with Nick.

Terry wanted to be sick. “Jesus Christ. Is he okay? Did he make it

back yet?”

The face of the blond man whose hand the alpha held fell in pity.
The alpha wet his lips, but his expression remained calm. “We can

only assume that he was captured at this point since we’ve heard
nothing back. No howls, nothing.”

“Are you going to go and look for him?” Terry asked, and he felt

like crying.

He didn’t know how this pack worked. For all he knew, Morgan’s

pack was the kind that left their captured and injured behind.

It wasn’t something he could blame them for, considering that was

how many werewolves escaped dangerous situations with their lives.
The enemy liked to wound instead of kill because that would always
slow down the others, after all.

Terry had never been in a pack that had needed to do anything like

that, but he’d spoken with other werewolves who had been. They had
all been poor, tortured souls with blank, haunting stares. Unable to
forget the things they’d seen, and unable to forgive themselves for
running away.

The same way Terry had run away the moment he was able to.

That was why he was alive. He left the others behind and escaped
before he could be skinned, too.

“I’m getting some of my wolves together now. A human and two

vampires also live here. We even have a dragon shifter, and they will
be offering their services.”

Terry looked out the window. It was still midday, but the sky was

gray. With the right kind of protection, he imagined a vampire would
be able to travel in that sort of weather. But still…

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“What can a human do to help you other than slow you down?”
“That human,” said a new voice in the back.
Terry turned toward the sound, just as another man with a grim

expression, strong jaw, and high cheekbones―and were those purple
eyes?―walked into Terry’s line of sight with only a slight limp.

He frowned at Terry. Terry didn’t scent any were in him, but if

there had been, he would definitely be an alpha.

He crossed his arms, all serious as he finished his sentence. “That

human is a trained hunter. I know how they work, and I will track
them before they can touch Morgan with any kind of knife.”

Terry shrank away from the man when he mentioned he was a

hunter, and yet none of the other alphas in the room tried to jump him
and tear him from limb to limb.

Everything inside of him shifted, his wolf wanting out, wanting to

run away, to attack, to go and find Morgan himself.

He swallowed all of that down, forcing his human mind to stay in

control.

“Can you really find Morgan?”
The hunter nodded. “He’s smart. He won’t let them skin him.

He’ll have shifted to make things harder for them, and if what Nick
told us about those snow mobiles is true―”

“It is,” Terry said quickly.
“Then they won’t have a comfortable way to travel with a naked

human. Not a way that they would trust without him attacking them,”
the man said, as though Terry hadn’t interrupted him. “They won’t
just vanish like ninjas or anything. They’ll have to stop and make
camp, betting that we won’t be coming for them.”

Hope swelled inside Terry’s chest like a balloon. He barely knew

his mate and didn’t want to lose the man before that could be
rectified. Or ever, for that matter. This hunter suddenly made Terry
feel a whole lot less antsy. He was eager now, eager to run and save
his mate.

“Good, because I’m going with you.”

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Chapter Twelve

Morgan wasn’t really in a mood to deal with this pissant hunter.

By listening to the conversations around him, Morgan had learned the
man’s name was Tatum.

The hunter Morgan had bitten had the most pissed off, crazed

look, of any hunter Morgan had ever come across.

All things considered, he really couldn’t blame the guy.
Two of the other hunters had gone to set up a perimeter, and the

other, the one wearing the eye patch, was off checking something
with the snow mobiles. Maintenance, Morgan realized. To make sure
they would work in a pinch in case they needed to get the hell out of
Dodge.

“Will I transform?” Tatum seethed, keeping his voice low and

looking over his shoulder at where Storm worked for the third time.
He was terrified that one of his hunter friends would learn about what
happened and turn on him.

He was out here all alone with these other men. If they decided to

do just that, it wouldn’t be long before he went down, and they would
be injecting him with adrenaline shots to make him transform so they
could skin him, too.

He was a hunter. He would have seen some of the things these

men did to the creatures they hunted. He knew what was in store for
him if his secret was out.

Morgan was tempted to just start yelling it out, but then his

chances for survival would go down to almost nothing. Tatum would
stab him in the throat if it meant shutting him up.

He also considered telling him that he wouldn’t transform, that a

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105

single bite wasn’t enough to do anything. That way, when his first
transformation did happen, it would be against his will, he would go
wild, and he would hopefully be smack in the middle of a hunter
camp. Tatum could kill off a lot of hunters like that, and werewolves
everywhere would be so grateful to him.

It was such a good idea that he decided to go with it. “No. I didn’t

have time to release my venom.”

The idiot actually looked like he believed him. Hope was a strong

force like that. “Really?”

There wasn’t just hope on his face or in his voice. There was also

disbelief. Morgan had to lie. If he said that Tatum would transform,
then the man would go into hiding, running away from other hunters.
He was likely to do that where some other normal humans were
bound to be, and Morgan didn’t want this idiot killing regular people
because he was too stupid.

A lot of people became hunters because of attacks from wild

werewolves, after all.

Morgan turned away from him. He’d answered enough questions,

and right now he just wanted to sleep.

Tatum suddenly became a tough guy again, taking out a serious-

looking hunting knife and pressing the flat of the blade against the
flesh right beneath Morgan’s eye.

“If you think for one second that means I’ll go easy on you, you

fucking piece of wolf shit, you’re out of your mind. I still need to pay
you back for this.” Tatum held up his bandaged hand, as though
Morgan could’ve forgotten it.

He pulled out a small, black case from the inside pocket of his

winter jacket. It looked like it might be the kind of thing that would
contain some reading glasses, but then he opened it up, and Morgan
cringed.

“Yeah, you know what this is, don’t you?” Tatum said, holding up

the opened case for Morgan to better see the needles inside.

Adrenaline. They were going to pump him full of it and try to

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force a transformation. He’d heard horror stories about this kind of
thing, usually second hand from relatives of the few to survive or
fight against the effects long enough to be rescued.

“Why don’t you just get it over with?” Morgan asked.
“So you can go wolf while my backup is gone?” Tatum let out a

small laugh. “No thanks. But just in case you get any ideas about
getting away, we’re going to do this the second they get back. I’m
going to personally rip the skin off your body, and then I’m going to
wear it around as a trophy.”

Morgan shivered. Even the toughest of alphas could be brought

down with ideas of being skinned alive.

He wriggled his wrists harder behind his back, and that act had

apparently not gone unnoticed by Tatum. “Don’t get your hopes up
trying to break through that, either.” His grin was toothy. “I was a
Boy Scout. Got my badge in tying knots and everything.”

Morgan couldn’t resist. “Thought they didn’t let fags into the

scouts?”

That earned him a punch in the nose. The pain blinded him for a

second, and the crunch was the worst sound he’d ever heard.

He groaned but managed to keep from making any other pained

sounds.

Tatum must’ve punched Morgan with his injured hand because

when his vision cleared and he looked at the man, he was shaking his
hand out and sucking on the blood that had started to flow again. He
was cursing something awful, too.

If Old Maggie, the pack’s wise woman, had ever heard that kind

of language, she would’ve torn his head off.

“Filthy, stinking, motherfucking―”
“Sir!”
Tatum looked up, and Morgan did, too, when Storm called out.

The man was standing up straight, his one eye focused as he stared off
in the distance.

“What?” Tatum snapped, looking in the direction Storm stared in.

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107

His face blanched when he caught sight of the younger member of

their team, Chance, if Morgan remembered the name right.

He was walking back to the campsite, shifting his legs through the

high snow, pushing through.

Morgan couldn’t smell it because of how clogged with blood his

nose was, but now that he was looking in that direction, he could see
the way he left a dark trail of red behind him.

Something had attacked the guy, and now Chance was trying to

get back to the camp.

It was the perfect way to find out exactly where the enemy was

hiding when one couldn’t count on the wind to be with them.

Storm and Tatum knew this, too. Tatum was the first to act,

jumping up and grabbing for a rifle from the inside of one of the long
bags he carried around. It was filled with other weapons.

Storm spoke up when Tatum took aim.
“Sir, he’s already brought them this close. Maybe we can still use

him to help us fight when they arrive.”

Tatum whirled on him, pointing the barrel of his gun at Storm’s

face.

Storm lifted his hands and backed away a step.
Tatum seethed at him. “You were the one who said they wouldn’t

be tracking us for him. I should kill you, too!”

Morgan had to give the man credit, he recovered quickly. “Then

you will kill Chance, and Tony is missing. You’ll be all alone to fight
the werewolves.”

Tatum actually shook with anger. He bared his clenched teeth to

the other man, but must have seen the logic in his words because he
swore loudly and turned away.

“God fucking damn it! Just grab a gun, and radio Tony. See if that

asshole’s―”

The little black walkie-talkie at Storm’s hip crackled. No voices

sounded. Nothing human, at any rate, but there were some angry
growls coming from the other end.

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Storm took the thing in his hand and pressed the button on the

side. “Whoever this is, is the hunter you took alive?”

Why was he even worrying about him? Clearly this man wasn’t a

human. Morgan could smell it all over him. Why did he bother
working for the hunters?

Another loud growl sounded, and then the loud screech of the

signals getting crossed somewhere, and then nothing.

Storm looked down at the radio and then put it back in the little

holster at his hip.

“Just you and me then,” Tatum said. “Him, too, I guess, but he

looks pretty worthless,” Tatum nodded toward their bleeding
comrade, who was almost upon them by now.

“So long as the possibility exists that Tony is still alive, I’ll stay

with you.”

Morgan’s first thought at those words was how much this man

must love that hunter to be doing the things he was doing against
other paranormal creatures. Strange, especially considering how dead
his tone was.

Despite himself, Morgan began to relax a little. Help had come,

and he wasn’t going to be a wolf skin rug any time soon.

He almost breathed a sigh of relief, until he saw one particular

wolf off in the distance.

It was a common gray wolf, of regular size, for an omega. Morgan

didn’t need his sense of smell to know who that was.

He screamed when Tatum pointed his rifle and fired.
The blast might as well have shot straight into Morgan’s heart.

The jolt he got was so strong, he thought he would pass out or have a
heart attack.

But then that deathlike grip on his insides released when he noted

how Terry had skittered out of the way of the blast. Snow exploded
up and around the area that was shot, but Terry had not been hit.

“Fucking wolf, hold still!” Tatum said, aiming and firing again.

Storm held a gun in his hands, a black Glock that Morgan suspected

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109

was loaded, but he just stood there, watching as Tatum took his shots.

Again, he missed as Terry leaped out of the way. Now, that other

hunter was running for his life, running and sobbing, waving his arms
around for help.

No, not help. Morgan realized. He was trying to warn Tatum.
Terry hadn’t come here by himself. He was acting as the

distraction.

Storm must have realized this because he ran to where Morgan

was still tied to the tree and put a gun to his head just as James, Nick,
John, and even a few of the newer alphas to the pack jumped over the
shrubs that had been hiding them, claws out, jaws open, and anger in
every pair of golden eyes.

Tatum didn’t turn around until it was too late, and the rifle was

knocked out of his hands with one last blast that clipped a black
walnut tree, sending splinters of bark and wood flying all over the
place.

He screamed as John locked his teeth around his arm, but he was

quick to pull out that hunting knife of his and stab the young alpha
with it before John could take his whole arm off.

He cried out and flew off the man. The other alphas abandoned

their prey and came forward to make sure John was okay, giving
Tatum enough time to grab his rifle, the bag of weapons he’d had
with him, and run to the snow mobile he had waiting for him.

Any one of the other wolves could have picked him off. It

wouldn’t have been hard with the clumsy, panicked way he ran. He
was practically tripping over his own feet.

No, it seemed that after John had been seen to, everyone looked

up and noticed that Storm had a gun to Morgan’s temple. Now there
was only one man here they really wanted to kill.

Chance saw that his leader was getting ready to abandon them,

and he screamed as he attempted to force his body to obey and run
faster. “Wait!”

He’d almost made it. Morgan was even starting to inwardly cheer

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for the kid. He always did enjoy the underdog.

Tatum had the engine started and sped away just as the bloodied

kid reached out to touch the snow mobile, leaving a streak of blood
from where his hands had made contact.

He fell to his knees and screamed after his former leader, then

broke down sobbing in the snow.

Some of the other alphas surrounded him, a few even cocking

their heads as they watched him. Likely they were wondering whether
or not to just put him out of his misery or leave him alone considering
how pathetic he looked.

Hell, it was so pathetic that even with a gun to his head, Morgan

still saw all the details.

James shifted onto two legs. With how scarred his face was, it was

difficult for him to look anything other than threatening, but he held
his hands palm out, kept his distance, and spoke in a soft tone.

“You don’t want to do that, son.”
Terry trotted over, widely circling around the crying figure in the

snow, and then he spotted Morgan, as well as the weapon pointed at
him.

He whined and tried to charge forth, but Nick quickly stepped in

and grabbed him by the scruff, forcing him down on his belly.

Good man. The last thing Morgan wanted was for Terry to get

himself shot. Why the hell had James even allowed an omega to come
to a battle anyway? Granted, it had been a short battle, but still…

He stared at his pack leader, knowing the man was hearing his

thoughts because he was projecting them so loudly.

James’s lips thinned, but he kept his eyes firmly focused on

Storm. “If you kill him, then you’ll have lost all your leverage. What
will you do after that?”

Terry growled at Storm, but Nick held him in place. John shifted

on two feet and went to stand beside James. There was a strange sort
of horror on his expression that Morgan had never seen before.

Morgan read the situation as best as he could. Storm wasn’t going

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111

to kill him, not after he let Nick and Terry go. He was just keeping
James and the others from ripping him to pieces. For now.

“What did you do with the other hunter?” Storm demanded. “The

one that didn’t come back.”

“He’s dead,” John said.
James glared at the younger alpha. He didn’t like being answered

for, and if that had been the wrong answer to give, then he could only
make things worse.

Storm’s expression dropped, and so did the gun. “You killed

him?”

“Don’t do anything stupid, now,” James said, his scarred

expression becoming all the more severe as he glared at Storm.

The gun was quickly lifted back to Morgan’s head when the

alphas stepped forward.

As one, they backed away again when the danger to Morgan’s life

was back.

“Don’t kill him,” John begged. He seemed the most fearful for

Morgan’s life.

That was funny. He wasn’t aware the kid cared so much.
Storm faced Morgan, his one eye dark and hard. “You owe me.”
With a start, and an inward sigh of relief, Morgan understood.

“James, let him run away.”

“What?”
“No way!”
James and John replied at the same time. James finally lost his

patience and snapped at the other alpha to go and watch the perimeter.

John left the immediate circle, but he still stayed close, still

watching Morgan and Storm.

“Why am I letting him go after he helped kidnap you and is

currently pointing a gun at your head?” James asked, trying for
patience but failing miserably.

Morgan looked at Storm pointedly there, and the other man

hesitantly lowered the gun. He even started untying Morgan’s wrists.

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“When the hunters caught me, he was the one to convince the others
to let Terry and Nick go. Said they wouldn’t risk coming back for one
caught wolf.”

Morgan grunted when his hands were freed, and he frowned at the

deep-red indents the ropes had left in his skin. Then he started to rub
the circulation back into them.

He nodded at Storm and got to his feet. His muscles were stiff

from kneeling in that position for so long, and there wasn’t enough on
him that was numb to keep the pain at bay.

Terry finally managed to get out from Nick’s grasp, and with an

eager whine, he ran over to Morgan.

The wolf rubbed himself along Morgan’s legs like a cat happy to

see its owner. Morgan patted his side, just as happy to see that his
mate was in good health.

“What are you?” James asked, apparently noticing the odd scent

coming from the other man.

“I’m a werecat. I shift into a mountain lion.”
“You?” Morgan looked over. Chance, the youngest of the four

hunters, was staring at Storm with wide, betrayed eyes.

“Sorry, kid,” Storm said, then turned to James. “I would

appreciate it if you didn’t kill him either. He’s young and not very
bright.”

“He’s a hunter, and with those scratches on his back, he’s infected

with werewolf venom as well.”

“Then make him part of your pack,” Storm pleaded. “There’s

been enough killing already.”

“Why were you even here? Why help hunters?” Morgan asked.

He’d been dying to know ever since scenting that Storm wasn’t
exactly human. He wasn’t just a nonhuman. He was a shifter, the
same as everyone else in Morgan’s pack.

Storm looked away from him and shook his head. “A werewolf

wouldn’t understand. Are you sure Tony is dead?”

“I killed him myself,” John said, stepping forward again.

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For the first time, now that he wasn’t staring right at James, Storm

seemed to finally take note of the younger man.

His one eye widened, moving up and down John’s body, and he

stepped back.

“If you really did help Nick and Terry get away, then we’re in

your debt. Two for two. Yours and his,” James said, motioning with a
jerk of his head back at Chance. “Though I can’t promise his stay
with us will be exactly pleasant, considering the things he has to look
forward to.”

First transformations were a bitch like that.
“Come with us,” John said. He and Storm were still locking eyes

in a way that was starting to make Morgan suspicious.

Storm shook his head, and in the most fluid transformation

Morgan had ever seen, he shifted into the form of a cougar, shrugged
out of his clothing, and then darted off. No one bothered to chase him
down, though John looked like he wanted to.

Poor kid.
“That was different,” James said, and then he turned and looked at

Morgan, his eyes staring particularly at his busted nose. “You look
like shit. Let’s get that seen to before it heals incorrectly.”

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Chapter Thirteen

Terry could tell that Morgan was angry with him for going along

with the alphas, but he refused to be cowed by it.

James’s first answer to Terry’s demand had been a flat no, and

even though Terry was now a part of this pack, he was still wild
enough to be able to disobey a little. So he’d followed the alphas
when they set out.

Because of the hurry they were in, they’d grudgingly allowed it,

so long as he didn’t get in the way of what they were doing.

Terry had told Morgan this, but the other man had stubbornly

insisted on staying a little angry with his alpha.

He’d get over it eventually.
His inner wolf, angry and wild as it was, had been a constant

growling presence inside his mind, demanding that he go and take
back what was his. When the first hunter had been killed, and the
second injured, he saw his opportunity to help.

They sent back the injured hunter, with Terry―being controlled

mostly by his angry wolf―nipping at his heels.

The distraction had worked, and now Morgan was safe at home.
One wouldn’t have known that considering the way the other man

whined and yelled when the pack’s wise woman, an elderly lady with
a huge hump in her back, had to come and set his broken nose for him
and then pulled out some needles to give him, too.

Terry had added it to the list he was making in his head. The list

of things Morgan liked, didn’t like, all that stuff.

Needles were on the top-five list of things he did not like and had

to be forced to deal with. Hunters were at number one.

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“Favorite color,” Morgan said, his voice still nasally. It sounded

like he had a cold, but that was only because of how the bandages
were still in place. The break hadn’t healed enough for them to be
removed yet.

“Red,” Terry answered, nudging Morgan with his foot. “Yours?”
They were lying in Morgan’s bed in the cabin he shared with

some of the other alphas. Morgan had pretty much been given a few
days off from doing his chores and guarding the pack. Time for him
to heal and to bond with his mate, James had said.

It had also been something of a gift to Terry. Every minute he

didn’t spend with his mate, he spent with the members of his former
pack who had been rescued from the hunters and were now living
here.

The baby, Sammy, Phillip’s child, was one such person Terry had

been most happy to see. Spending time with them also helped to
center his inner wolf. It calmed him, knowing that there were still
those who were safe.

Even Nick, the blind werewolf, was formerly a part of Phillip’s

pack, and that was a fact that he hadn’t even remembered until
recently now that more and more of his memories were returning.

Nick had always been something of a loner, being blind and all, so

he wasn’t shocked that the man hadn’t recognized him. When Terry
had confirmed it to him that they were former pack mates, even if
they were pack mates who never hung out together, he could still
recall the pleasure he’d felt at the smile that had formed on the other
were’s face before they’d hugged each other.

Morgan had to think about it. “Black.”
“That’s not a color!”
“Yes, it is.”
“Black is a shade,” Terry insisted.
“A shade of color,” Morgan said with a grin.
Terry looked at him.
“All right, all right. I know it’s not a color. But I like it best. It

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goes with everything,” Morgan said.

Terry filed that away as Morgan liked every color.
“Favorite movie?” Terry asked.
This time the answer was instant. “The Friday the 13th series.

Except the one where he goes into space.”

Terry laughed at the way Morgan muttered the last part, as though

it had put a bad taste in his mouth.

“And you?”
“Uh.” Here was where Terry got a little embarrassed. “The Wolf

Man.”

“The―!” Morgan sat up quickly and stared down at Terry with

something akin to horror. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I know, but I like those movies. The newer one was pretty cool,

too.”

“Those movies only pass around the idea that we’re dangerous

and can’t control ourselves.”

“Dracula movies do the same thing with vampires.”
“That’s because most vampires are pompous assholes who suck

the life out of everything.”

Terry raised his brows at his lover, and then he grinned. “You

think Ivan or Vlad will be happy to hear that?”

Terry had met the two vampires, and though he was somewhat

concerned for Ivan’s mental health, after he’d caught the vampire
apparently talking to himself, he still liked the both of them.

Later he’d found out that the talking to himself part was normal

for Ivan, who was apparently a medium and could speak to ghosts. It
only got stranger when Terry found out that Ivan was apparently
mated to the spirits of one of the alphas in this pack who’d died in
battle.

He tried not to let that weird him out too much whenever he found

himself hanging out with the man.

“I said most vampires,” Morgan grudgingly admitted. “The last

thing I need is for Andrew, or Ivan possessed by Eric, to come

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knocking on my door asking what the hell my problem is.”

“Favorite game?” Terry asked, continuing on with their question-

and-answer session. They were both naked, but so far nothing had
happened between them as they lay in bed. They just snuggled
together, but with the way Terry felt Morgan’s fingertips tickling up
and down his ribs, moving as low as his hips sometimes, he knew
Morgan was thinking about it.

“Before, I would’ve mentioned all the Atari classics.”
“You would pick something like that,” Terry said, nudging him.

He’d finally gotten Morgan to admit his age, and apparently, today
was his birthday. Sixty years old. It was strange, considering he didn’t
look much older than Terry, really. Terry wanted to get him
something, but Morgan insisted that his life and Terry were all he
needed.

Terry was just going to have to get him a late birthday present

when he got some money.

“If you grew up with Pong consoles, you would’ve thought Space

Invaders and Donkey Kong were amazing, too,” Morgan said.

Maybe Terry would see if he could find him an Atari.
“But as for a favorite game, right now I’m leaning toward that

strange board game we were playing.”

Terry remembered it. “I swear it was like trying to put together a

puzzle just to start the game.”

“We’re going to have to get our own copy of it, when we can

remember what it was called.” Morgan’s hand was resting on his hip
now, pulling Terry closer.

“How in control of your wolf do you feel right now?” Morgan

asked.

Terry blushed as he recalled how he’d lost control the last time

they were together and had bitten Morgan, left their shared room, and
wandered right into a hunter camp.

He shifted his shoulders around, feeling nothing but peace within

him.

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“I’m feeling pretty good right now. I have been since I went with

the alphas, to be honest.”

Morgan grumbled at that reply. Terry was going to have a hard

time convincing him to let that go. If anything, a wild omega was
almost as competent a hunter and killer as a trained alpha who had
full control.

Even Blasius, the alpha who seemed to think he was a Viking or

something, agreed with him on that.

This pack was full of strange wolves, but they were keeping the

weres who’d come here from Phillip’s pack alive, so Terry was
grateful to them.

“I have one more question for you,” Terry said as Morgan pulled

him onto his lap. Terry leaned in a little, allowing their dicks to touch.

“Yeah?” Morgan’s eyes were heavy now as he stared up at Terry

with absolute wanting on his face. “You are so fucking gorgeous, you
know that?”

Terry face went red hot. He was still getting used to being given

all these compliments on his body.

“Thanks. Uh, you are, too, by the way.”
Morgan laughed out loud and continued to do so even when his

nose started to pain him.

“Not right now I’m not,” Morgan said, clutching at his nose, and

all the N-sounding words coming out with Ds in front of them.

Terry still wanted the other man so much. “Really, you are. You

look like one of those guys who models for a calendar or something.
You’d be the one dressed as a construction worker or a fireman. You
have the body for it.”

“Had one of those calendars, did you?” Morgan asked with a grin.
Terry was never going to stop blushing. “Maybe.”
“Well, you have the body of a business exec.”
Terry looked at him strangely. “A business exec?”
“Someone who works out, great shape, narrow hips, but gorgeous

shoulders and pecs. You’re not way too big like I am. You’re

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perfect.”

“I’m pretty sure most businessmen don’t have the body you’re

describing,” Terry said, his cock becoming hard as Morgan slowly
started humping against him.

“No, but that’s what makes you so great.” Morgan was clearly

getting into it now, his grip on Terry’s hips tightening as he thrust
against the other man.

“What was it you were going to ask me?”
Terry shivered at one particular surge of pleasure that spread

through his lower body. “Ugh! I…I can’t remember.”

It had been something sexual related, at any rate, and since they

were already in the middle of having sex, he didn’t want to use the
brain power to try and remember whatever it had been.

“Wanna know something that I really like doing?”
Morgan’s breathing was coming out just as raspy as Terry’s now.

The temperature in the bedroom was slowly rising, and as
werewolves, they were both very aware of that.

“What?” Terry gasped.
He gasped again but more fearfully when Morgan sat up and

gently put Terry back on the bed. “What are you―”

He stopped himself when Morgan slid to his knees in front of

Terry, that evil grin on his mouth as he leaned in to Terry’s now
pulsing cock.

“Oh,” he said.
“Yeah, oh,” Morgan replied, taking Terry’s cock and balls into

both his hands.

Terry hissed and nearly jumped off the bed. He spread his legs out

wider when Morgan’s cold hands warmed around his dick, and he
leaned back against his hands to enjoy himself.

“That’s nice,” he said.
“I’ve got lots of nice things I want to do to you,” Morgan said,

stroking him. His grip was firm, but the up and down motion of his
hand was slow, too slow, even as Terry’s humped into his hand. He

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was going to take his time with this if Terry didn’t hurry things along.

He reached down and put his hand around Morgan’s, trying to

force the other man to speed up without actually telling him to go
faster.

Morgan pushed his hand away. “Be patient. Good things come to

those who wait.”

“I’d rather get off right now,” Terry said, glaring at him. He tried

to, anyway.

He’d been told on more than one occasion that everything he

thought showed up on his face. Right now, all he could think about
was how good it felt to be touched like that. So much different from
the feel of his own hand.

His mouth dropped when Morgan stuck his tongue out, hardened

the tip into a point, and then licked along the base of Terry’s prick,
finally playing around in the slit.

“You’re good at that,” Terry said, and when Morgan put his lips

around the head of Terry’s cock, his head fell back as breathy moans
escaped him.

Cold air enveloped his dick when Morgan pulled away.
“I like sucking on cock.”
“What?”
“That’s what I like. I like putting a hard cock in my mouth, and I

like watching what it does to the person I’m doing it to, and I like it
when they watch me.”

Terry remembered that, and he did his best to keep his eyes from

squeezing shut, watching everything Morgan did to him. The bob of
his head, the tightening of his cheeks.

When he started to hum, the vibrations were too much for Morgan

to handle. He grabbed Morgan by the hair, gasping and gyrating his
hips as his balls went tight, and he shot himself down the other man’s
throat.

Morgan swallowed it down as best as he could considering the

lack of warning he’d been given. He cleared his throat after pulling

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away and still looked at Terry with that smile on his face. The smile
that said how in charge he was.

Even on their knees deep-throating, an alpha was always still in

complete command, it seemed.

Terry, on the other hand, was mortified that he couldn’t last

longer.

“Sorry,” he said, turning away from Morgan’s smile.
“Don’t pout,” Morgan said, reaching out and taking Terry’s chin

in hand, turning his face so that he had to look into Morgan’s happy
eyes.

“You just need some more practice, and then we can go for

longer.”

“I don’t know why I’m embarrassed. I’ll just get another erection

again in a minute.”

Terry hadn’t been talking about how eager his cock always

seemed to be because he was still young or anything. No, puberty was
long behind him. The thing with werewolves was that they always
seemed to be ready to have sex. Sometimes Terry could just will
himself an erection while he was in the shower, flipping through his
mental catalogue of fantasies, and he could get off.

There was just something about coming before he was supposed

to that mortified him.

“I’ll bet you can,” Morgan said, not doubting his abilities. “But as

you get older you’ll learn to like drawing it out more. That way you
can really start to enjoy yourself.”

Terry didn’t like the little pinprick of jealousy that poked him at

those words. Morgan was sixty years old. Of course there would have
been others before Terry.

Then his cock twitched eagerly as Morgan lowered his mouth one

more time, wrapping his now-dark-pink lips around the head of his
penis.

It had never felt this good when Terry had touched himself.

Morgan must just be really skilled at this. Years of practice compared

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to Terry’s complete inexperience.

Maybe he had a point about drawing it out.
Terry made sure to try his hardest not to come this time. Morgan

allowed him to thrust gently into his mouth, and he was right, there
was something else entirely about the slow buildup, forcing himself to
go slow, that really made his body quake and tremble.

Terry couldn’t help it. He let himself fall onto his back and

gripped his own hair until it was kind of painful. Anything to keep
him grounded in reality and to keep him from coming again.

“Fuck!” he said, drawing out the word so it was a long moan.

“You were right. You were right. Fuck!”

“That’s right, baby, fuck my mouth. You’re doing so well,”

Morgan said through that link they shared as mates.

Terry was officially no longer jealous of any other previous lovers

Morgan had in the past. This was all he could focus on right now.

He couldn’t handle it anymore, and he could no longer stop his

hips from pumping wildly against Morgan’s mouth.

“Stop. I’m gonna come. Oh!”
He couldn’t even bring himself to reach down and push Morgan

away. He had to rely on Morgan doing that himself because, despite
his words, Terry didn’t want either of them to separate.

Thankfully, Morgan did as he was told quickly, and he had the

forethought to reach down and grab Terry around the base of his dick
before he could spill himself all over his stomach.

He was glad Morgan had thought of it, but made a noise of

disappointment that he didn’t yet have the release he wanted.

Morgan’s mouth, those wicked lips that had just been sucking his

cock, were now at Terry’s ear. “I’m going to fuck you into the
mattress, and only then, when my cock is inside your ass, are you
allowed to come.”

“Yes, yes. Do it!” Terry demanded.
Even as a teenager, he’d never been this horny before. If Morgan

didn’t put something inside of him right that second, he thought he

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would die.

He didn’t even notice where Morgan had gotten the lube from, but

he scented it the instant the other man opened the cap. Morgan’s slick
fingers pressing against his hole was the best feeling Terry ever had.
He thought me might come from that stimulation alone.

“You are so ready for me. Want me to fuck you?”
“Yeah,” Terry said, pressing back against those fingers.
Morgan must not have been joking because he pulled his fingers

away quickly, apparently deciding that Terry really had enough
preparation.

He probably didn’t require a lot due to the sex he and Morgan had

been having when they were back at the cabin.

“Turn around, baby.”
Terry didn’t question it. He spun around as quickly as he could.

Morgan’s strong fingers grabbed a hold of his hips when he tried to
climb fully back onto the mattress.

He looked behind him, confused now. “What are you doing?”
“Stay just like this,” Morgan said, staring down at the way Terry’s

legs and ass were hanging over the side of the bed with hunger in his
eyes. They’d turned gold in his lust.

“You’re perfect like this.”
Because he was the one with less experience, Terry trusted that

Morgan knew what he was doing and knew of the best ways to get
him off. He held perfectly still.

Then he felt the blunt head of Morgan’s dick being guided into his

hole. It burned, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle anymore,
and because he gave no indication of pain, Morgan didn’t stop until
his balls touched the back of Terry’s thighs.

“That’s it,” Morgan groaned then started to firmly yet slowly

thrust his hips.

The push and pull of that heavy cock inside of him, touching

everything, his inner walls, his prostate, was so good. That, coupled
with the way Terry’s hips and his dick were pushed against the sheets

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beneath him, as though he was still being stroked and touched there as
well, was all he needed.

Terry gripped the bedsheets in his tight fists. He tried to thrust

back, but really it was more of a shifting of hips on his part.

That was fine with him. He could do this forever. He didn’t want

it to end so soon, but the way Morgan moved inside of him was just
so good.

He clenched his anal walls around Morgan’s thrusting cock,

delighting in the groan Morgan let out, so he did it again.

“You. Are. Going. To kill. Me,” Morgan said, punctuating his

words with another deep thrust.

Terry thought they must look ridiculous like this, both half on top

of the bed like they were, but he would do this position as many times
as possible if it meant he could be fucked like this.

When Morgan showed signs of slowing down, Terry actually

panicked a little. “Don’t stop!”

With another deep groan, more of a growl, really, Morgan

pistoned his hips as quickly as though there was a real engine
powering him. His sighs and groaned turned into deep, wanting
moans, and the build of pressure that had come to a standstill for
Terry picked up again as he was fucked into the mattress.

There was no way he could fight this. He tried, and that only made

his cock and balls pulse and throb all the more after they tightened up
and released his cum onto the sheets beneath him.

He bit down on a pillow to muffle his shout, and he still felt little

sparks of pleasure when he came down from his high, and Morgan
was still thrusting inside of him until his whole body went stiff above
Terry’s and a warmth spurted inside of him.

The sound of Morgan’s satisfied breathing was hypnotic and

lulling. It would have put him to sleep had it not been for the
uncomfortable stickiness against his stomach.

Morgan pulled out of him gently, allowing Terry to gingerly get to

his feet. They both looked down at Terry’s stomach, and at the bed,

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and then they laughed.

Terry leaned into Morgan’s chest, though he kept their stomachs

apart to prevent smearing Morgan with his cum.

“I’m glad you mated with me,” Terry said.
The feel of Morgan running his fingers through Terry’s hair was

all the more lulling. “I am, too.”

Terry stayed where he was for a moment, enjoying the feel of

Morgan’s warm skin and of his muscled arms wrapping around him.
He hesitated with what he had to say next, but he decided to just go
for it and let it out.

“I know we haven’t been mated for long―”
“It’ll be sixty hours by midnight,” Morgan said, jokingly.
Terry wasn’t joking. “Is it too early to tell you I love you?”
Morgan jerked, and he looked down at Terry with surprise in his

eyes.

Before the uncertainty could set in, Morgan smiled at him.
“No,” he said and then kissed him.

* * * *

“I want permission to hunt him, James.”
James sighed and rubbed his face at John’s demand. Then he

looked over his shoulder at Corey for help.

Usually, his mate was good at helping the alphas to calm down

when they were set on being stubborn idiots. It really lowered the
number of times James was forced to assert his authority on the front
yard, at any rate.

Corey could only shrug at him and go back to what he was doing,

feeding the infant that Phillip had left them with when he disappeared.

The boy was a good kid, didn’t fuss a lot, and James and Corey

had only been interrupted once during sex to the sounds of his crying
down the hall. Thankfully little Sammy was old enough that he could
hold up his own head and all that shit, so, yeah, James liked him.

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He was just starting to worry that Corey might like the kid a little

too much. It would break his heart if his mate got too attached when
the time came to give the boy back to his father, whenever the hell
Phillip decided to come back, that is.

That would have to be handled later. Right now, he had to deal

with this.

“You’re too young. We only just put you on the alpha hunting

teams, and in case you didn’t notice, winter came early this year,”
James said. He didn’t need to point out the window to show the kid
how the snow had started up again.

It was one of the reasons they’d allowed that hunter Morgan had

confessed to biting go. They had their own shit to deal with, and in
this weather, chasing the man down while he rode on that snowmobile
was out of the question. James was just hoping that when the guy had
his first transformation, he did it in front of a group of hunters. Maybe
he would even take some of them out and save James some trouble
down the road.

“You don’t understand. I need to find him,” John said.
James lifted a brow. He’d never seen the kid look so desperate before.
He couldn’t recall ever seeing the werecat before, and John had

been born to this pack, so it wasn’t like the other man could have
done something to make the kid want revenge.

“Why do you want to find him so badly? I got the impression that

he didn’t want to be anywhere near us.”

John swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “He’s…I

mean I think he’s…he’s my mate.”

THE END

WWW.MARCYJACKS.COM

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Marcy Jacks lives and works in Ontario, Canada, where she is

fervently pursuing the writer’s life while writing about lots of
gorgeous guys. She loves hearing from readers, and you can reach her
at authormarcyjacks@gmail.com.

For all titles by Marcy Jacks, please visit