by J. L. Wilder
He crawled up the length of her body and buried his shaft deep inside her as his lips met hers. She was exhausted and euphoric, and at first, the feeling of his thick cock was more like relief than anything else. He belonged inside her. She had been wanting him, craving him, for so long. She hadn’t even realized how overwhelming her desire had been these last few days. And now, at last, they were joined, they were together. It would have been enough for her to lie in his arms, intertwined, feeling the wonderful fullness of having him inside her.
At first.
Then he began to move.
It was slow at first, like a caress, like being woken up in the morning. He touched her face gently, gazing down at her in obvious wonder.
He fucked her a little faster. And now parts of her body that had been exhausted moments before were waking up again, aware that the man she was with had more to give. She was surprised to find that she could still feel such arousal, such need. It was as if her last orgasm hadn’t happened.
Will I always want him so badly? Every time he touches me, will he be able to cause this desire?
He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her slightly to his chest, cradling her against his body, and fucked her faster. Harder. His rhythm faltered, and she knew he was close.
She wrapped her legs around his hips and lifted herself up to him.
With a guttural moan, he came deep inside her. She felt it, and the very idea of having given her mate such pleasure pushed her over the edge for the second time. She buried her face in his shoulder and shivered as she came.
He let her down slowly onto the ground and rolled over so that he was lying next to her instead of on top of her. For a moment, she missed the weight and the warmth of him, and she rolled so that they were face to face once again.
“How was that?” he whispered.
“Amazing,” she whispered back.
Then her stomach growled, breaking the mood, and Ozzy let out a chuckle. "I should get us something to eat, I guess,” he said, getting carefully to his feet.
She nodded and moved over to sit close to the fire, grabbing her dress and pulling it over her head. “I’ll wait here,” she said. “Don’t go far.”
“Don’t worry.” They never strayed too far from the fire at night. He would stay where he could see its glow, she knew.
Once he was gone, she stared into the flames of the little blaze she had made, pondering.
This is my world. This is the world I was meant to grow up in.
Her childhood in the foster care system, her young adulthood making her way between a series of bad relationships—that was never what her life should have been. She should have grown up as a member of Ozzy’s pack.
Her parents had seen fit to take her away from that.
Now she was going back.
Had they been wrong all those years ago? Was she wrong now?
She could only guess.
In the darkness, she heard a twig snap. Her head jerked up. Was Ozzy coming back already? He must have been very lucky in his search for food. Usually, it took quite a bit longer for him to hunt something down.
Then a man stepped into the light cast by the fire’s glow.
Not Ozzy. A stranger to her.
Natalie didn’t even have time to scream. The stranger clapped a hand over her mouth, picked her up bodily, and dragged her away.
Chapter Nine
OZZY
It took Ozzy longer than usual to track down something suitable for their dinner. He supposed the sounds of their lovemaking must have driven all the small prey into hiding.
Not that I can bring myself to regret it! If he had to choose between dinner and sex with Natalie, well, that was no choice at all. He would pick her every time.
He held himself as still as possible, his wolf body pressed up against the trunk of a tree. The smell of the tree would help to hide his scent. The sturdiness of the trunk would help to keep him from shifting his weight and giving himself away.
I might spend too much time in the human world—at least, according to my brother—but I still know how to do this.
He was pleased with his success so far. When he brought Natalie back to the pack, those who had doubted him in the past would finally have to admit that he was as skilled at being his animal self, at living wild, as anybody else was. He would have completed a cross country trek with the lost omega in tow, by himself, keeping them both fed and safe as they went.
No one will be able to doubt me.
Of course, there was still the question of who would be alpha.
He had always assumed that when the omega returned, Chuck would be the one to become alpha. Chuck was the strongest member of the pack. Chuck was the one who’d had ambitions of being alpha for as long as Ozzy could remember. He was the oldest male in their generation. He probably had the best claim to replacing Randy.
Will he be angry when he realizes I’ve imprinted?
There was no point in thinking too hard about that, Ozzy decided. Nothing could be done about it now. It would be resolved, in one way or another, when they reached the rest of the pack. Not before.
A rabbit stepped into the clearing in front of Ozzy’s tree. Immediately, Ozzy’s muscles tensed, holding him firmly in place. He inhaled slowly, careful not to make a sound, and the scent of meat filled his nostrils. It never failed to amaze him how much more appealing raw meat smelled when he was in his animal form.
They would cook the rabbit before eating it, of course. Natalie couldn’t even shift yet, so she certainly wasn't ready to try eating raw. But the scent would help him hunt in the darkness.
He crouched, feeling his muscles contract like coiling springs, feeling the power in his body. In a moment, he would attack.
The rabbit inched closer, and Ozzy saw that it had its eye on a twig that held a leaf and a few berries. He fixed his gaze on that point as well. As soon as the rabbit reached it—
The rabbit took two more tiny hops and arrived at the twig. It poked at it with its nose.
Ozzy lunged.
It was all over in seconds. He had learned over just the past few days to go for the neck, to make the kill quickly and cleanly rather than by mutilating the body.
When he’d finished, he shifted back and picked up his catch in his hand. Natalie had been skittish about watching him skin animals to cook for the first couple of days, but she’d gotten over that remarkably quickly, and he knew she would rather have him close at night than for him to stay away and get the work done before going back to her.
He followed the flickering light of the fire back to the place he'd left her.
But when he arrived, she wasn't there.
He frowned. He could feel his pulse accelerating but he forced himself to stay calm. Odds were that this was nothing at all. She had probably slipped off to relieve herself or something.
“Natalie?” he called.
No answer.
His heart beat a bit faster. Even if she’d needed to go, he would have expected her to wait until he had returned from the hunt, to let him know where she was going. He wiped his face with one hand, trying to convince himself that all he felt was frustration with her. That he wasn’t afraid.
He dropped the rabbit on the ground a few yards away from the fire. “Natalie!” he yelled again, louder this time. They didn't like to make too much noise at night, in case they were overheard—but there was already a fire here, after all. It wasn’t like they were being subtle about their presence.
Still, she didn’t answer him.
And now, he couldn’t deny the fact that he was afraid. If she had wandered off in the darkness and fallen, she might have hurt herself. She might be lying unconscious somewhere.
He grabbed a stick off the ground and ripped the right sleeve from his shirt. He tied the sleeve around the end of the stick and held it in the fire until it caught. It wouldn’t burn for too long, he knew, but it would burn for a while, and it would help him search for Natalie.
She’s
going to be in so much trouble if I find out she’s just out looking for berries or something, he thought anxiously, and then, please, please let that be all it is.
He held his makeshift torch high, looking at the ground, hoping to see footprints that might give him some indication of which way she had gone.
And yes—there. There were footprints. They were very faint, but he could make out indentations in the ground. Someone had walked off to the south.
It wasn't until he had followed the footprints for several yards, though, that he came upon one that was distinct enough to show the tread of the sole of a shoe.
Ozzy felt his heart freeze in his chest.
Natalie wasn’t wearing shoes.
He fell to his knees and placed his hand on top of the print. It was big. Bigger than Natalie’s feet had been in his hands when he’d massaged them for her earlier.
This is someone else’s footprint. And whoever it is, they were in our camp.
Now that he knew his fear was justified, it almost became easier to set it aside. His omega was in danger. She needed him. He couldn’t afford to give in to the horror and despair that he was feeling. For her sake, he had to keep himself together.
He almost allowed himself to shift. Tracking would certainly be easier in animal form. He would be able to follow her scent. And he would do that if he was unsuccessful. But remaining human was allowing him to hold onto the more thoughtful, logical part of himself, the part that was less ruled by emotion. That was something he needed right now.
Also, his human hands could hold the torch. As an animal, he wouldn’t be able to do that.
It was unfortunate that the ground was so hard. If only it had been a little softer, the footprints would have been easier to see, easier to follow. As it was, he could only make out one every couple of yards. It was enough to tell him that he was still on the right path. But in between sightings, his anxiety crept in. Would he know if his quarry turned? Would he be able to pick up the trail again?
His question was answered when the field he had been in came to an end at the side of the highway. There were no tracks. The unyielding asphalt gave no sign.
His despair swelled, and for a heartbeat, it threatened to overcome him. How would he find her now? The person who had taken her could have turned left or right here. He could pick a direction, but he had even odds of picking the wrong one. Then he would be traveling away from her.
What if I never find her again?
That prospect was so horrible that he couldn’t even bear to think about it. They had known each other for such a short time, and yet already he felt as though he couldn’t imagine his life without her. Something about him had become complete when he had imprinted on Natalie. To lose her now would be more painful and crippling than to have his arm cut off.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to force himself to relax. He couldn’t allow himself to be overwhelmed. His chances of finding Natalie were slim enough as it was, but if he gave in to panic, they would decrease to almost nothing. He needed to be his human self. He needed to remain logical and focused.
He held his torch high, looking around the area. Surely there was some sign of what had happened when they’d reached the road. There was always something.
There!
Tire treads in the dirt on the shoulder. He could tell by looking at them that the vehicle had pulled off heading west.
Someone parked a car on the shoulder here, then pulled away again.
It might have been nothing at all. It might have been unrelated to Natalie.
But Ozzy’s instincts were kicking in now, telling him that this was the clue he had been looking for. This was the clue he needed to follow.
Now it was instinct, not logic, that he needed.
Instinct and speed.
He removed his clothes and tied them in a bundle that could be easily carried by gripping the knot at the top. Then he shifted. Immediately, his senses were flooded with information.
He could smell Natalie. The scent was almost overwhelming. He knew her so well now that he could never mistake that smell for anything else.
He could smell himself on her, the remnants of their lovemaking, the evidence that she was his.
And he could smell her fear. The pheromones that were released into the air when an animal was fighting for its life. He knew that smell, of course—he encountered it every time he hunted. But there, it came in small, manageable doses, not this overpowering blast. And there, it was the fear of rodents and small mammals, not his mate. His omega. The woman he had sworn to protect.
I’ll do anything to help her. I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back.
Even in wolf form, he wouldn’t be as fast as a car. He knew that. But the car didn’t have much of a head start on him.
He would run west. He would do his best to track Natalie. They would have to stop at some point for food or to use a restroom, or else they would simply reach their destination before those things became necessary. And if she was taken out of the car, he would be able to pick up her scent again.
At least, he hoped he would.
He would have to put his faith in his ability to track her, even though she was in a car, even though she was moving much faster than he could hope to run. This was the only chance he had to try to get her back, and if it took him the rest of his life running up and down this highway, he would do it. He would never, never give up.
He bent down and took the knot of his bundled clothes in his teeth. He would want something to wear when he stopped at last and resumed his human form.
There might be a fight before I have the chance to be human again, though. If someone tries to stand between Natalie and me, I won’t hesitate to kill him.
Ozzy had never felt such a pull to violence before. But the need to protect his omega had awoken something new in him. He had been forever changed by her.
He set off down the road, determined to find her.
Chapter Ten
NATALIE
Natalie did her best to struggle, to scream for help, to let Ozzy know where she was and what was happening to her. But it was all to no avail. The man who had grabbed her from beside the fire kept his hand clamped so tightly over her mouth that she didn't have a hope of making herself heard.
She lost track of how long he carried her—she could think only of the violent thrum of her blood pounding in her ears and the fact that Ozzy would be so upset when he realized she was gone. So caught up in it was she that she didn’t notice, at first, when they passed out of the field and onto a highway.
When she did notice, she felt a new, acute sense of terror wash over her. What would happen now? How would Ozzy be able to find her if they weren’t going to be traveling in the dirt, where they would be sure to leave signs of their passage?
It’s hopeless.
No. No, she wouldn’t allow herself to give up. After all, he had found her once before, hadn't he? It was true that it had taken him forty years to do it, but he had done it. And that was before he’d imprinted on her, before this powerful, undeniable connection between them had come to exist.
It will lead him to me. I have to believe that.
An ominous-looking white van with a single triangular shape painted on the side was waiting on the shoulder. It took a few moments for Natalie to realize that the shape she was looking at was meant to represent a fang. Though she had suspected that her captor was another shifter, this all but confirmed it.
He opened the van’s back door and Natalie saw two more men inside. Terror spiked through her.
The man who was holding her tossed her in. She landed hard, but she launched herself up and scrambled for the door.
Too late. The door was already swinging shut in her face.
One of the men moved toward her, a cloth in his hand. By the time she realized the cloth was a sack, it was already lowering over her head, cinching around her neck, obscuring her vision.
She felt the van shift beneath he
r, growling, as the engine was started. Then it pulled out, the momentum sending Natalie flat on her back.
She didn't bother to scream.
There was no way Ozzy would hear her now.
SHE DIDN’T KNOW HOW much time had passed when the bag was removed from over her head. It felt like hours. She might have been asleep for some of it.
Now she was looking into the eyes of a wide, burly man with a face like a brick. He was glaring at her as if she had insulted his mother.
“Give her the bar, Vern,” another voice said, and Natalie glanced over and saw that the other man in the back of the van with her was sitting with his back up against the front wall, cleaning dirt from under his fingernails with what looked like a sliver of wood.
“I don’t know why she should get it, Wes,” Vern said sullenly.
“Yes, you do,” Wes said. “She’s an omega, isn’t she? You could smell that as soon as she got in the car.”
“So what if she is?”
“So omegas gotta have their nutrients.” He grinned. Something about that grin made Natalie’s stomach lurch. “They have to be kept healthy. That's important.”
“She’s fine,” Vern said. “Look at her. She’s a hundred and thirty pounds at most. She doesn't need the calories. I do.”
“Fuck’s sake,” Wes growled. “She was living wild. You don't know what she's had to eat lately. She needs a healthy diet if she's going to bear children.”
“This one can’t bear children,” Vern said. “She’s got to be in her forties.”
“You don't know she can’t,” Wes said. “Omegas are fertile for a long time.”
Natalie found her voice. “Please,” she said, ashamed to hear how fragile she sounded. “Please just let me go. I’m not fertile. I’ve tried to get pregnant, and it hasn't worked.”
“See?” Vern said.
“She's lying,” Wes said. “Give her the damn granola bar before I shove it up your ass.”