by J. L. Wilder
“I’m not lying,” Natalie said desperately. "It's the truth. It’s the reason my ex-husband left me. If you think you're going to be able to get me pregnant, you won’t. You're setting yourselves up to fail.”
“We’re not trying to do anything to you,” Vern said. “We’re going to sell you to a pack.”
“Exactly,” Wes chimed in. “So it doesn’t actually matter how fertile she is, does it? Just as long as we can find someone who thinks she is.”
“Then why does it matter if I give her my granola bar?”
“Just hand it over,” Wes said. He sat forward, snatched away the granola bar that Vern was holding, and held it out to Natalie.
Though she was hesitant to take anything from these men, she was hungry. She reached out and took the granola bar.
Suddenly, Vern’s arm shot out. He grabbed her by the wrist so hard that the granola bar fell to the floor of the van. "What's this?” he demanded.
“What?” Wes asked.
“She’s inked,” Vern said.
Natalie’s heart sank. The tattoo on her wrist. Ozzy had warned her that everyone in the shifter world would recognize her tattoo. She tried to pull her arm back, to conceal it, but Vern’s grip on her was too tight.
Wes pulled out a little flashlight and shone it on the inside of her wrist. He let out a low whistle.
“Damn,” he said. "I thought she was just feral, but she’s from a pack already.”
“Yes,” Natalie said, hoping she could make this work to her advantage. “I’ve already got an alpha. I already belong to someone. No one else could hope to buy me and make me their own. So please, please, just let me go back to my alpha. I promise we won’t come looking for you. We can just go our separate ways.”
Wes snorted. “Jesus,” he said. “You think you’re worthless to us because someone’s already imprinted on you? You don't know anything, do you? There’s nothing to stop a new alpha claiming you as his own. An alpha can steal another alpha’s omega. It happens all the time. Whatever you had going on when we picked you up, you might as well forget it because that’s not your life anymore.”
A sob welled up within her, and she choked on it. Not my life anymore. She had just said goodbye to one life, the life she had lived for forty years. Her human life. She had been willing to leave that behind because what she had found with Ozzy had been so miraculous, so much better and happier.
But her time with him had been so short. She had been looking forward to years spent getting to know one another, and now, instead, she was being torn away from him.
She would never see him again.
“What pack is this?” Vern asked, examining the tattoo on her wrist closely. “A wave? Is that the Sunshine State Pack?”
“No, idiot,” Wes said. “Their symbol is a sun. Let me see that.” He leaned close.
Then he let out a low whistle. “Oh, shit,” he said. “She's from the Pacific Northwest Pack. She’s that missing omega.”
“The one there’s a reward for?” Vern asked, his eyes growing wide. “Fuck. And to think we were just going to sell her off to the highest bidder. That reward would let us buy a new van.”
“There's a reward?” Natalie felt a surge of hope. “My pack is offering a reward for me?” That would fix everything. If they were going to take her back to her pack, Ozzy would eventually find her there. Everything would be all right. Though she would have preferred to travel across the country with her mate than with these brutes in the back of their van—even if it did mean walking barefoot all the way—as long as she was going to end up in a place where Ozzy could find her, she wouldn’t complain.
Wes laughed. “Not your pack,” he said. “Are you stupid? The Pacific Northwest Wolves don’t have two dimes to rub together. They couldn’t put together any reward money if they wanted to. No, it’s the Rocky Mountain Pack that’s offering the reward. They’re gonna pay us real well for picking you up.”
She felt sick with fear. The Rocky Mountain Wolves. She had believed, in spite of Ozzy’s repeated cautions, that that horror was behind her. She had believed that she had left them behind in New York, and that as long as she was careful, she would be safe from them from now on.
Now she could see how wrong she had been to believe such a thing. She and Ozzy had been moving west, after all. They’d been getting closer to the Rockies. Not very close yet, it was true—but just because she had left one of their number behind in New York, that certainly didn’t mean she was safe from all of them now.
What if I see that one again? The bartender from the hotel, the one who abducted me? The last she’d seen him, he had been unconscious on her hotel room floor, knocked out by her mate. He wouldn’t be very happy with her if he saw her again. She wouldn’t be surprised if he took his anger out on her physically.
I have to get away!
But how could she? She was locked in the back of a van. It didn’t open from the inside. She couldn’t get out. And this time, there was no Ozzy coming to save her.
She didn't even know how long they had been on the road. It had been a long time, that was all she knew for sure. Hours. Maybe a day. They had to be far from Pennsylvania right now. There was no way she would be able to make it back to her mate.
The despair that she had been staving off overwhelmed her now. She couldn't see any hope, anything that would get her out of this. These men were going to deliver her to the Rocky Mountain Wolves, and her body would be put to unspeakable use.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sound of screeching tires. The van veered to the side. Natalie, Wes, and Vern were all thrown hard against the metal wall as the van jerked to a sudden stop.
Wes cursed and scrambled up.
“What the hell was that?” Vern asked.
“We’d better go out and see," Wes said. “Felt like we hit something.”
“What about her?” Vern jerked his thumb in Natalie’s direction.
“Leave her here,” Wes said. “She's not going anywhere, and we can’t take her out of the van. If we have to leave it behind and walk, we’ll reassess.”
He opened the back door of the van. Natalie didn’t even try to scramble past him to get out the door. There was no way she would have made it.
Wes and Vern jumped out of the van and slammed the door behind them, leaving Natalie alone in near darkness.
I hope we did hit something, she thought desperately. I hope we have to walk. She couldn’t see how she would escape from them on foot, but she knew she couldn’t escape as long as she was stuck in the van. Maybe changing her circumstances a little would improve her odds.
The door of the van opened.
Natalie tensed. Would they be taking her out now?
But it wasn’t Vern or Wes. Nor was it the man who had initially grabbed her from her campsite. It was someone else.
“Want to get out of here?” he asked, holding out his hand.
PART TWO
Chapter Eleven
GAGE
There wasn’t much in the world Gage hated more than Feral Fangs.
He’d crossed paths with their kind before—not this group, of course, but they were all the same. They were nomads, living apart from the traditional pack structure. That wasn’t what Gage had a problem with—he spent enough time away from the Pacific Northwest Pack that he had often fallen in with small, temporarily aligned groups of nomads. He appreciated the utility of that kind of bond.
No, what bothered him about Feral Fangs was the way they preyed on the rest of the shifter community.
He’d known what was up as soon as he had seen the van with the fang painted on its side. It would be one of those groups that went around hunting women, picking them up and taking them to sell to packs across the country. They’d take any rogue woman they could find—even a beta would do—but he’d known them to kidnap omegas away from their families because an omega would fetch a higher price.
As soon as he’d seen the van, he had been determined to stop it. Any
thing to fuck with these guys and ruin their plans.
He’d gotten in front of the van and lunged at the driver's side window. Even though the Feral Fangs were shifters, the sight of a massive gray wolf flying toward you was enough to startle anyone, and it had sent the van off the road and into a tree, just as he’d hoped it would. While the men stood around debating whether they should try to start the engine again, Gage had shifted, tugged on his shorts and shirt, and gone to the back of the van to see who had been captured.
There was only one woman back there. Her hair was tangled and her skin was tinged with dirt, and Gage could tell that she had been living wild. But there was something about her that hinted at civilization, too. That dress she was wearing—it was so damaged that it was a little hard to tell, but he had a feeling it had once been really nice. And if she got the chance to clean up, her hair might be well-cut, not wild and uneven the way most nomads’ hair was.
So she's probably from a pack. Maybe I can get her back to where she belongs. Maybe there’ll even be a reward. The Pacific Northwest Wolves had no money. If Gage wanted income, he had to find it his own way.
“Want to get out of here?” he asked, holding his hand out to her.
Sometimes, they hesitated. Sometimes, they weren't sure if going with him would be any better than staying with the Feral Fangs. But this one didn’t hesitate at all. She took his hand and allowed him to help her out of the van.
He kept a grip on her hand and set off at a jog. “Gotta get away from them,” he said. “They’ll realize you’re missing in a minute.”
She nodded and ran faster.
Gage was surprised that she hadn’t asked any questions. He’d done this a couple of times before, and on those occasions, the women had always wanted to know who he was, why he was helping them, where he was taking them—a million things. He had never experienced someone so willing to simply follow him.
Maybe she’s just an idiot. Maybe she was the kind of weak-willed simpleton who had actually climbed into the back of the Fangs’ van just because they had asked her to.
Whatever. She’s not my problem. I’ll get her out of here, and then I’ll send her on her way.
The downside was that they had to stay human. Shifting would make them easier to find. The best thing they could do was find a place to hide while this blew over.
“Can you climb?” he asked.
“What?” she asked.
He pointed to a nearby tree. The lowest branches were about seven feet up, but he could make the jump. “Up there.”
"Can you boost me?”
He laced his fingers together. She stepped in and reached for the branch as he lifted her, then hauled herself up and over it. By the time Gage had climbed onto the branch himself, she was already five feet above him, working her way into the higher limbs of the tree.
He climbed quickly until he was alongside her. When they were about twenty feet up, he held out a hand. “Stop here,” he said quietly.
“What are we doing?”
“We need to wait until we’re sure they've stopped looking for you,” Gage said. “They won't keep up the search for long. Feral Fangs are ruthless, but they’re not very focused. They’ll give up and move on.”
“Feral what?”
“Feral Fangs. That’s who you were with. Be quiet for a minute.”
She fell silent. Gage scanned the ground below them, listening for the snap of a twig or the sound of a voice, for any indication that they'd been followed.
He heard nothing. He saw nothing. He was sure the Feral Fangs were still looking for them, but they must have decided to search in a different direction. For the moment, they were safe.
He turned to look at her. “Who are you?” he asked.
She gazed back at him steadily. “Why should I tell you?”
Oh, so now she had decided she couldn't trust him? “Because I just rescued you?” he suggested.
“So you tell me who you are.” She managed to cross her arms while keeping herself braced against the trunk of the tree.
He was impressed. “You could fall out of this tree if you’re not careful.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“You don't seem like you're afraid of that.”
"If you wanted me dead, you wouldn’t have bothered saving me in the first place," she pointed out.
That was true enough. And he admired her spunk. “My name’s Gage,” he said.
“Are you with the Rocky Mountain Wolves?”
“No,” he said. “Shit, no. They’re the only ones worse than Feral Fangs.”
“How did you know I would be in that van?”
“You’re not the first girl the Feral Fangs have picked up like that,” Gage explained.
“Are they a pack?"
“No, they’re nomads. They don’t have any consistent membership or leaders. Bunches of them get together all over the country and pull shit like this, and then they fracture apart and find other people to work with.” He shook his head. “They’re garbage.”
“And you stopped them.”
“Well, someone needs to take out the trash. People like that should be stopped.”
“Thank you,” she said seriously. “I mean it. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.”
“Nothing good.”
She nodded.
“Now, will you tell me who you are?” he asked. “Maybe I can help you get back to your pack or wherever you’re supposed to be. If it’s on my way.”
“On your way? Where are you going?”
“East.”
“You’re not going to try to take me with you?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Do you want me to take you with me? I’d have thought you would rather get back to wherever your home is.” He looked her up and down pointedly. “You definitely look like someone who has a permanent home. Not a nomad.”
She hesitated. “I don’t really have a permanent home,” she said. “Not anymore.”
“You’re telling me you live wild? In that?” He gestured to her dress. “That's not practical.”
“It’s complicated,” she said. “I had to leave my old life behind, and this is what I had with me.”
“Okay,” he said. “So you don’t have a permanent home. Where do you want me to take you, then? Or should we just go our own ways right now?”
“Maybe,” she said. She looked downcast. “What I really need is to find my mate again. But I left him behind in Pennsylvania—that’s where they picked me up—and I have no idea where I am now.”
“You’re in Illinois,” Gage said.
“Shit,” she breathed. “We came a long way. I don't know how he’ll find me.”
Gage hesitated. He didn’t like to take responsibility for other people’s problems, and he had plenty of things of his own to worry about.
But he was going east.
"If you want to, you can stick with me,” he said. “I don’t know if your mate is tracking you, but if he is, he’ll be coming this way. With a little luck, you’ll meet each other in the middle.”
“Seems like a long shot," she said quietly.
“Maybe,” he said. “Don’t let me twist your arm.”
“It might be the best chance I have,” she said. “I mean, unless I could get to Washington somehow. But I don't know how I could get there safely on my own.”
He frowned. “Washington? Why Washington?”
“My mate is from the Pacific Northwest Pack,” she said. “If I go back to the pack’s territory, I think he might find me there.”
Gage nearly fell out of the tree in shock.
“Who?” he managed. “Who's your mate?”
“His name is Ozzy.” She cocked her head. “You don’t know him, do you?”
“Ozzy?” Was she serious? She must be. How could she have come up with that name if she wasn’t telling the truth. “Yeah, I know Ozzy. He’s a cousin of mine.”
“You mean...you’re from the Pacific Nor
thwest Pack too?”
He nodded. “We all thought Ozzy ran off to look for our lost omega, not to find himself a girlfriend. This is a hell of a surprise.”
She flushed. Even in the darkness, lit only by the moon, he could see how red her cheeks were.
And suddenly he understood.
“It’s you,” he breathed. “You're the omega, aren’t you?”
She swallowed. “You’re really from the Pacific Northwest Pack?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you prove it?”
In response, Gage grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up to his chin, revealing the tattoo across the middle of his chest.
She nodded and held out her arm. Leaning closer, he saw the matching tattoo on the inside of her wrist.
"It really is you,” he marveled. “I was looking for you.”
“Seems like a lot of people are looking for me,” she said.
“And Ozzy found you,” he said. “Ozzy, of all people.”
“Is that bad?”
“I don’t know. It’s weird.”
“Can you help me get back to him?” she asked.
“You said he was your mate,” Gage said. “What do you mean by that? Like, he’s your boyfriend?”
She sounded offended. “I mean he imprinted on me,” she said. “I may be new to this world, but I had assumed that you knew the way that kind of thing worked.”
“Keep your hair on,” he said. “I know how imprinting works. I'm just trying to catch up. This is a lot of information to be getting all at once.”
“Can you help me find him or not?” she asked.
“We should stick together,” he said. “Either we’ll find Ozzy or I’ll take you back to the rest of the pack.”
“I don’t want you to give me to the alpha who’s already in charge there,” she said. "I want Ozzy. Nobody else.”
It might not be your choice, he thought. It might not be either of our choices. But he didn’t want to scare her, so he kept the thought to himself.
"I think we’re safe now," he said. “Let’s get down on the ground. I want us to cover a bit more distance before we stop to rest. The sun will be up by then and we won’t need a fire, and we’ll be far away from the Feral Fangs.”