“I’m fine; I’m a little tired, though.”
“So, no dildo play tonight?” Jackson smiled.
“You brought it?” Jonas’ eyes widened.
“Hell, yeah I did. Why can’t we have fun while we’re out here?”
“Well, it’s your turn,” Jonas purred.
Jackson’s mouth watered at Jonas’ sexy tone. Damn if it didn’t go straight to his balls.
“I want to find out if you purr during sex.” Jackson inched closer to Jonas.
Jonas laughed. “Me, too!”
“Not tonight, though. Tonight we’ll rest and gear up for tomorrow. We have a long day ahead of us.” Jackson pulled Jonas into his arms and kissed his nose.
“Let’s clean up and take one last look around. The tigers are providing us with security tonight.”
“I love that. I can’t wait to see you in that form again.”
Jonas furrowed his brows. “I don’t know how to make it happen. It just does. The wolf side is easy; I can will it to happen. My other form is stubborn.”
“We’ll work on it together.” Jackson nuzzled Jonas’ neck. “I’ll be here to help you.”
Right then, Jonas remembered what falling in love was like. Because he was falling head first for Jackson.
“Okay.”
The tent was small, forcing them up against each other. Jackson’s breathing was soft and even and Jonas took the opportunity to study his face as he slept. The forest served as a natural sleep machine, lulling them with night sounds. The tigers were close by, watching the perimeter; the occasional tread of other wildlife whispered through the air. Jonas closed his eyes and willed sleep to claim him. Strong arms pulled him closer and Jonas wrapped himself in the warmth that was Jackson Murphy.
Oh yeah. He was falling hard.
~Chapter Four~
John kept close to the ground in wolf form. He hadn’t seen Anya in two days and was now afraid she’d never come back. What had happened to her? Some of the things she’d said made John think some bastard had raped her. If that was the case, it was no wonder she hated men. The sun was setting and the weather was becoming downright cold once again. His coat provided plenty of warmth, and he had been sleeping in wolf form the last two nights.
He was not going to be caught off guard again.
He still hadn’t heard a peep from Dane, and he wondered what in the hell had happened to the alpha. If he couldn’t respond, he’d either been drugged or lost his head. John shuddered. If he had to choose, he hoped it was the former.
James had assured him backup was coming. He wasn’t a soldier — he knew how to fight and protect his own — but when it came to the rogue hunts, he let the soldiers take over. The reason he had been chosen for this little mission was clear now: Anya trusted him.
She ruled the females, and if trouble was coming to him, she’d protect him — at least that was what James had told him. John had to admit that he hadn’t run into trouble in two days.
He sniffed the snow and then sniffed the air. Dane had been in the area. But something else was in it now. John concentrated on the smell. It was…different.
A demonic growl came from the forest to his right and John spun to meet it head on. His eyes widened as the thing making the noise burst through the trees. And ‘thing’ was the best word John could come up with to describe the creature. It looked like a grizzly bear crossed with something else; it wasn’t normal.
It zeroed in on him and let loose a snarl. John backed up, keeping an eye on the thing in front of him. It had to be at least 12 feet tall, and it was massive. Eight-inch fangs hung from its gaping mouth. John’s eyes swept the area slowly, looking for a way to escape.
Fighting was not an option.
Yellow eyes glared at him as if he’d done something to offend it. He began to retreat, a bare inch at a time, his mind racing but not coming up with anything useful. You know who should be here? Vince and Nikolai Markov. Not a lick of sense between them. They freaking LOVE this shit. Yep, I realllly wish they were here…. Oh, fuck!
The bear thingie lurched forward and swiped at him with a massive paw. He sidestepped and ran through its legs. A large roar followed another swipe of the paw. John flew through the air and hit a tree, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of a breaking rib.
Howls came from everywhere as a pack of females ran into the clearing with the monstrosity. One female planted herself in front of him, keeping her eye on the fight. It wasn’t Anya, however. She was in the fight, snarling and biting at the monster. Three females jumped on its back and Anya went for the kill. She struck him square in the throat and latched on. The monster tried to free itself, letting loose with an earth-shaking roar. It wrenched Anya from its throat and tossed her across the snow. She hit a rock and whimpered.
John rose and the female in front snarled.
“Stay where you are!”
“I’m not leaving her unprotected!” John snarled back.
“Just let us deal with this, ya? If you go all hero, you’ll get her killed.”
“She’s down, dammit!”
“Not for long.”
John realized the female was right. Anya had regained her feet and was advancing on the monster before her. More females joined the fight, coming from every direction. There had to be at least twenty of them, and John made a distracted mental note never to piss them off. The monster was realizing he was outnumbered, but it was too late. The females descended on it as Anya sat nearby, her open mouth revealing long canines. She seemed to be grinning.
“Have you seen that thing before?” John asked the female still protecting him.
“Yes. Peter decided to make a toy. Poor bastard.”
“What is your name?”
“Catryn.”
“Well, thank you, Catryn.”
Catryn turned to look at him. “Anya was right about you.”
John’s brows furrowed. “Right about what?”
The sound of cracking bones and whining alerted John to the fight still raging. The monster went down and blood seeped into the white snow. Anya circled the females and whipped her tail.
“Burn it. We don’t want Peter to know his toy was destroyed.” Anya turned her attention to John. “Are you all right? Healed up?”
John nodded. “Yes, I’m fine.” He nodded to all the females. “Thank you, for saving me.”
The females looked at each other in surprise and Anya snorted. “Get busy, girls.”
John set up his tent a few yards into the trees, with a patch of dirt off to his right. He needed to make a fire, although he wasn’t going to be snacking on the monster now burning in the clearing. It smelled awful, like charred fur. John’s nose twitched and he sat down on one of the rocks to work on the rabbit he’d caught. Footsteps in the trees alerted him to company and he stood up as Anya walked toward him.
She wore gray sweat pants and a gray down jacket. Snow boots covered her feet and a gray hat topped her glorious hair. John stood up and offered her his seat. Okay, it was a rock. It was the gesture that mattered. Anya nodded and sat down. He grabbed another rock and set it down across from Anya.
“Would you like some?” he indicated the rabbit.
“Yes, thank you.” It surprised her at times to hear her own voice. She hadn’t been in human form this much in over fifty years. Her eyes wandered over John Quinton. Something about the man ignited something deep inside her; something she thought was long lost to her — attraction and lust. He was built quite nicely — large biceps, strong hands. His eyes were what caught her attention, though; they were colored a warm chocolate. They were friendly eyes, trusting eyes.
John cleared his throat and their eyes met.
“I’m very sorry about the other day —”
Anya waved her hand in the air. “It was my fault. I’m so used to men being crude and mean; I didn’t realize you weren’t one of them.”
“I’m not like that, Anya. I never have been. Men who are crude, rude and disrespectful
to women are not men.” His eyes blazed with emotion.
Anya locked eyes with him. “What about men who hit women? Force themselves upon them?” John’s eyes blazed with anger and, for just a moment, Anya knew this man could be dangerous. But not with her.
“That is not a man. That is a coward and a bully.” John searched Anya’s features. She visibly relaxed at his words and he willed his anger to ease and continued cutting up the rabbit. “What part would you like?”
“I want both legs,” Anya smiled.
John narrowed his eyes. “What if I want a leg?”
“Too bad; you asked.” Anya sat back and crossed her arms. The loud laugh that came from the handsome man almost bowled her over. She found herself laughing with him, the sound foreign to her ears. Laughter was something she hadn’t known since that night that would haunt her forever.
“Okay then. I’ll eat whatever’s left. How’s that?”
“That’s fine.” Anya sat forward and clasped her hands together. “May I ask a personal question?”
“Can I ask one back?”
Anya’s brows furrowed. “I suppose.”
“Then yes, you may.”
“Why do you still wear the wedding ring? How long has it been since your wife passed?”
“It’s been almost twenty-one years. She died giving birth to our youngest son. It was quick. I never got to say goodbye, to tell her how much I loved her. She was everything to me. When I told her I was a werewolf, she laughed at me. When I showed her, she laughed again. Nothing fazed Isabelle.”
“You still love her,” Anya said quietly.
“I’ll always love her. She appeared to me a month ago, told me to move on from her. I didn’t think I could, except…”
“Except what?”
John raised his eyes to Anya’s. “I saw you. I didn’t mean to that morning in the river, but I caught a glimpse of perfection.”
Anya barked out a laugh. “I’m far from perfect.”
“But you’re beautiful, Anya. You’re loyal, strong — and pigheaded.”
“All the qualities men adore,” Anya drawled.
“I do. I don’t want a woman obsessed with her looks, one who cries at a broken nail, who wants to eat just a salad and some water. God, eat a freakin’ steak!” John laughed, shaking his head. “I want a woman who’s not afraid to give me her opinion, who’ll fight for what she believes in.”
“You are not a normal man.”
“All the men I know are like that. They were raised by strong women, women who knew what equality meant.” John took a deep breath. “What happened to you? Why do you hate men?” Anya’s eyes blazed and John put his hands up in defense. “If you don’t want to answer, I’ll understand.”
“No, I said you could ask a question,” Anya sighed. “I was young, just months from twenty-one. A man approached me one night as I was walking home. He seemed very sweet; he was good-looking, too. He asked if I needed help with my parcels. I agreed and he walked me home. It wasn’t until we turned down the alley that he hit me, hard enough for me to see stars. He took a knife to my stomach and then my throat. He…” Anya shook her head and averted her eyes.
“He forced himself on you,” John said softly. Anya’s nod almost sent him into a rage. What kind of man raped a woman? The disgusting, animalistic kind.
“He thought he’d killed me. I played dead, and I knew I would be in minutes. He sliced me open. I heard howls and then a very large wolf wandered into the alley and scared the man away. I thought for sure the wolf would kill me. It was massive. It bit into my neck and then sat down beside me. My whole life changed that night — the anger I felt, the betrayal of my trust…”
“I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
“I was very mean to Taber Maccon. I thought he was like the rest; he put me here with the other females. I was angry, very angry. As time went on, I knew I could never be with people again. The anger I had, the rage. I couldn’t control it.” Anya sighed and looked up at John. “I’m not fit to be around humans.”
“I think you are. You’re very calm right now.”
Anya blinked. She was. There was no anger, only sadness at what had become of her life. John’s scent overrode the smell of cooking rabbit. Her mouth watered for the first time in years — and it wasn’t for the rabbit. John seemed to sense her arousal and stood up from the fire.
“This is not a good idea.”
“I think it is.” Anya stood up as well, and walked toward him. “Do you know how long it has been since I’ve wanted a man to touch me? Since I’ve wanted a man anywhere near me?”
“We just had a discussion about what happened to you. This would not be right, Anya. Maybe in the light of day you’ll feel differently, but I don’t want to take advantage of you in this vulnerable state.”
“You’re rejecting me?”
John stepped forward and caressed the soft skin of her cheek. “You have no idea how much I would love to be with you in that way. But not now, not like this. You deserve better. You’re vulnerable right now, and I will not take advantage of that.”
“Rejection!” Anya spat, humiliated.
“Anya, please —” John took her hand.
She wrenched her hand away and snarled. Shifting, she ran for the forest without looking back.
John rubbed his face with his hands and sighed. Granted he was rusty with women, but he knew it wouldn’t have been right to be with Anya after she had just disclosed what had happened to her. He had shown her compassion and kindness, not to win her over, but because it was genuine.
John sat back down and looked up at the sky. He hoped Anya would come back; he needed to tell her that he did want her. John smiled.
“You were right, Iz. I found a woman I can see myself falling in love with. I still miss you, but I know I have your blessing.”
The wind whispered through the trees and John knew Isabelle wasn’t far. More importantly, she approved.
~*~
Anya stretched out on the cave floor. The sun’s rays swept across the opening, and she heard the sounds of the other females. Clothes sat in the corner and she readied herself for the morning’s hunt. Catryn sat on a tree trunk, eyeing her warily and she lifted a brow in question.
“How is John Quinton?” she asked sweetly.
Anya huffed.
Caryn crossed her arms.
“What?” Anya spat. “He rejected me!”
Both Catryn’s brows lifted. “Care to elaborate?”
Anya opened her mouth, only to see the other females waiting with bated breath.
“Go find something to do!” she roared.
“Well, touchy much?”
“How is Carson Drake?” Anya called out. She laughed at Catryn’s scowl. “You protect him, Catryn.”
“Wayne has asked us to!”
“Yes, but you take great pleasure in mauling the rogues that go after him.”
“Shut up and tell me about John.”
Anya bared her teeth and Catryn waved an impatient hand. “Cut the theatrics. Go on now, I can tell you want to air it all out.”
Anya recounted the previous night, how she had told John how she became a werewolf. Catryn said nothing, but Anya could see the other female was shocked. No one knew of her past except for Taber Maccon.
As she spoke, her words echoed around her head. John Quinton had looked so sad over what had happened to her. There was no pity from him; she couldn’t have handled that. There was more than enough anger, however. In fact, it had oozed from his pores.
Her mind suddenly cleared and Anya realized what she had done. If John had been one of the men she thought he was, he would have taken her right there on the ground when she offered herself. He was unlike any man she’d ever known, and she had pushed him aside because of hurt pride.
The realization of her blunder took hold and her head snapped up to see Catryn looking at her with sadness.
“I do not have to say it, do I?” Catryn said quietly. “I
had hoped…”
Anya studied Catryn’s face. “You had hoped?”
“It’s not Carson I want, Anya.” Catryn stood and avoided Anya’s eyes. “It’s always been you.”
Anya gasped. “You…”
“Yes, but I understand, and I wish you all the happiness with John. We must find him.”
“We need to go.”
Anya stood up and whistled loudly.
The females rallied around her and she looked at all of them. They were all strong and ready for what was coming.
“Eat and then prepare yourselves.” Anya began undressing. “We have to find John Quinton.”
~*~
John stepped into the thick forest and lifted his nose to the air. The scent of other animals filled the air, mingled with Dane Durov’s scent. Blood also hung in the air. John adjusted his jacket and headed further into the forest.
Three hours going east put him on the right path to Dane. The smell was getting stronger the further he ventured in. As the trees became scarcer, a clearing of sorts came into view. It was quiet. Tents were scattered around a large fire pit, which had burned down to drifting smoke.
John kept downwind and made his way past the tents. No need to start a fight if he didn’t have to. He sent a mental message to Sam, alerting him to his whereabouts. After another mile, John sucked in a breath. Cages lined up in a row. He approached carefully and lifted the tarp from one of them. A black panther snarled at him and John inhaled deeply.
Human shifter.
“Hey,” he whispered. “I’m not here to hurt you; I’m going to let you out.”
The panther tilted its head as if it were assessing him.
“You understand me?” A quick nod from the panther made John smile. “Good. Run. There’s plane wreckage a few hundred miles from here. Keep west.” The panther snorted and motioned to the other cages. “I’ll set them free, too.”
John grabbed the lock on the cage and bent it in half. He opened the cage slowly and stood back as the panther emerged. It seemed to stare at him as John went to the next cage. A loud snarl from inside backed him up. He tentatively reached a hand out and ripped the tarp off. A wolverine paced back and forth, snarling. It stopped and backed up, hair on end and teeth bared. John broke the lock and opened the cage door.
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