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Storm stroked his hair. John’s weight was hardly enough to make him uncomfortable, and the warmth of another body on top of his was actually quite nice. That was the only reason why he didn’t push John off him so he could at least sleep by himself. That’s what he told himself, anyway.

  Storm allowed his hands to trail down the firm muscles of John’s arms and to really feel the ridges of his chest muscles as they pressed against Storm’s.

  John was young and beautiful, that was for sure, and Storm had never felt so wanted before, in a good way, not the way that Tony had wanted him.

  What had happened with Tony hadn’t been rape, but it hadn’t exactly been the sort of thing that left Storm feeling warm inside afterward either. Not like how he felt now with John snuggled on top of him.

  He’d just given John his first sexual experience, but Storm was getting a first here, too.

  In his entire life, no one had ever held him like this before.

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  Marcy Jacks

  Chapter Four

  Robert slammed the last of his supplies into the black gym bag he had and hoisted it over his shoulder.

  He was getting ready to go out, alone, for the first time to hunt by himself.

  He didn’t care if they killed him and ripped him to pieces. That fucking wolf and that werecat were going to die one way or another for what they’d done to his family, and if Robert died, he was taking them with him.

  Dave, his father, had asked him to do one simple thing, and because he’d hesitated, argued, and felt sorry for the thing they were about to put out of its misery, another demon thing, this time in the shape of a wolf, had jumped the lot of them, killing Robert’s father and his two uncles.

  Now, with his younger sister gone, he had no one in the world left, no reason to care if he lived or died.

  The tents had already been packed up and were in the back of the truck, and after looking over the scene of what used to be his camp one last time, he was pretty sure there was no sign remaining that he, or his father and uncles, had ever been there.

  Suddenly he wanted to cry, and the building pressure behind his eyes made him feel like a pussy.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and moved for the driver’s side of the truck. He just had to remember his training and track those shifters down.

  The problem was that it had been his father who had been the skilled tracker in the family, and now he was gone.

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  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

  Robert finally jumped into the truck and slammed the door. He was just about to start the ignition and drive off, maybe find somewhere to hole up and think for the next couple of days, but he’d already lost enough time crying like a little bitch, when a man stepped in front of his truck.

  Robert’s inner warning signals went bat-shit crazy on him, and as carefully as he could, he reached into the holster he was wearing for the Glock he kept on him at all times, but the thing didn’t have silver bullets in it.

  The man just stared at him, as though waiting for him to make the first move.

  Robert had no idea what the guy wanted. Could this be another shifter? Maybe he was from the same pack the other wolf had come from, and now they were here to finish him off.

  No other men came out from the woods to confront him. It was only this guy, and the more Robert looked at him, the more he didn’t think he could be a shifter.

  He had the bulk for it, with the wide shoulders and muscles on him, but it was the haircut that calmed Robert down a little.

  The black hair was cropped short, military style. Most werewolves liked growing it out long and wild. Robert could never figure out why. Maybe it grew faster than normal and they didn’t want to deal with it.

  “You gonna keep staring at me, or you gonna get out of the truck?” the man called.

  Robert stiffened. In the whole time he’d been sitting there thinking over his next move, the guy could’ve pulled a gun on him and killed him.

  Or transformed into some kind of wild animal and eaten him.

  He’d done neither, so Robert got out of the truck.

  He had to clear his throat. This would be the first time he’d spoke out loud, aside from yelling and screaming out his loss, since 48

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  everyone had been taken from him yesterday.

  “Something I can help you with, friend?”

  The stranger leaned a little to one side, as though he could see what it was Robert was carrying around in the back under the tarp.

  “Lot of supplies you got with you. What’re you hunting?”

  Now all the nerves inside him were really standing on end and shouting out loud. Robert’s family hadn’t been doing this for very long, but they had learned a thing or two about identifying other hunters of their particular nature.

  He had to be careful, though. This might be just some normal guy who was asking what he thought was a perfectly normal question.

  Who was also out in the middle of the woods with no apparent supplies on him.

  “Just some regular big game,” Robert said, watching for the response he would get.

  The stranger nodded. “Wolves are a good bet, this time of year.”

  That was it. The response that marked this man as a hunter, no matter what the season was. Robert relaxed. He hadn’t realized how tense he’d let himself become, but now that he knew he was in the presence of a friend, he just wanted to collapse.

  It must’ve shown on his face because the stranger took a step forward and put his hand on Robert’s shoulder. “Hard battle?”

  Robert nodded. He had to lean his back against the truck, or else he knew he would fall over. “I buried the last of my family last night,” he said, and then his face crumbled and he could hold it in no longer.

  The stranger was patient with him. He didn’t comfort him or touch him anymore than necessary, and for that Robert was glad.

  “I had a hard fight with them a couple of months ago. They killed all my men, or turned them, and now I’m on my own.”

  Robert looked up at him. “You are?”

  The stranger nodded. “The name’s Tatum O’Leary. I’ll work with you if you like. You have the supplies I’ll bet, and now you just need Hunted and on the Run

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  the manpower. I can track pretty well and know how to clean most rifles and shotguns.”

  There was nothing in the world Robert wanted more than to not do this alone. With someone else to have his back, at least that would make for a great chance of success, and he’d said he was a good tracker, which was exactly what he needed.

  “Robert Marsh,” he said, and reached out and shook the hand of his new partner.

  Tatum smiled eagerly at him. “Good to be working with you. I can tell you already that I’ve been tracking one shifter in particular, and he’s in the area right now. I’ll bet he also had something to do with your misfortunes as well, considering how close he is to you.”

  It hardly mattered at this point. Robert just wanted to kill something to release all the pent-up rage he was carrying around with him.

  “Get in. You can tell me where he is while I drive.”

  * * * *

  Storm gladly allowed John to take him again in the morning.

  There was something nice about being woken up to having his dick sucked and then being turned over and fucked lazily before breakfast.

  His wound was almost entirely healed now, and so he was able to better enjoy the feel of another body against his without any stinging.

  Then they ate their breakfast of stale pizza and sodas, and when Storm tried to get into the shower, John followed him inside and had him there, too.

  He was new to this, and Storm reminded himself that John would want sex as often as possible now that he’d had it. He didn’t mind in the least.

  He groaned as he came in John’s hand, spilling himself against the shower wall, the water washing away his cum and sending it down the drain.


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  He kept his leg propped up on the rim of the tub and leaned his back against John’s chest as the other man continued to pound into him.

  John kissed his neck and squeezed him tightly as his hips jerked faster and harder, his whole body becoming stiff as he came inside him.

  Storm enjoyed the feeling of being held against a warm body and of the breath panting along the back of his neck, tickling him. John continued to kiss his shoulders and neck, caressing Storm’s sides like he was some kind of precious work of art or something.

  Then he gently pulled out, and they finished washing off.

  “I’ll take you back to my pack. You can meet my alpha James, and everyone else. They’ll welcome you in just like they do everyone else. You’ll like it there. We’ll have to share my room in one of the cabins, but my roommates are okay,” John insisted.

  He had the widest smile on his face as he made plans, and it was difficult for Storm to not believe him when he spoke of their connection.

  He put the thought from his mind and tried to bring John back to reality. “I don’t know if you should expect others to be so eager to forgive me,” he said, trying to be as gentle and realistic as possible.

  “I’m not only a former hunter, but I’m also a shifter. I’m a traitor in their eyes.”

  John frowned as he rinsed out his hair. When all the soap suds were washed away, he looked Storm right in the eye.

  “They will accept you. If they didn’t, I wouldn’t be staying with them for very long. You and I could find another pack to be a part of, or we could make up our own.”

  That had been the last thing Storm hoped to hear. “A werewolf and a werecat entirely on their own without protection? Any hunters who found us would make easy skins of us.”

  “Fine, then we’ll find another pack to take us in, and only if mine doesn’t accept you. Which they will,” John said, still being stubborn Hunted and on the Run

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  about it and even sounding a little annoyed that Storm was refusing to share his happiness.

  Storm pulled the shower curtain back and stepped out. John turned off the water and joined him. They did their best to dry off with the nearly worthless towels, but they were practically just moving the water around on them, rather than absorbing anything.

  “What’s wrong?” John asked, his voice filled with suspicion.

  “I would like you to promise me something.”

  John’s head cocked a little, but that suspicion never left his eyes.

  “Okay, what?”

  “That if your pack―”

  “Storm―”

  “That if your pack would rather not have me, you will stay with them and allow me to go.”

  This was the first time that Storm had seen John angry. “And what happened to your honor pledge to stay with me no matter what?

  You’re just going to forget about that?”

  Storm’s spine went rigid at the insult to his morals. “Of course not! I would not…I mean…I don’t know exactly how it would work.

  Maybe I could stay in the neighboring town. I’ll be there whenever you want me for anything. That way you would not have to abandon your pack and I will still be there for you.”

  That should do it. Storm wouldn’t have to be part of John’s pack if his alpha decided that Storm was too much of a wild card, and he would still be nearby for John so he could fulfill his life-debt. John wouldn’t be forced to leave his pack on some misconceived notion that Storm was his true love, and Storm could keep his honor.

  This hardly seemed to make John feel any better. “You’ll just rent a room or a house somewhere and wait for me to sneak over whenever I want to fuck you, right? Sorry, not happening.”

  “Why are you being difficult about this?”

  “Because we’re mated and I love you, you stupid asshole!”

  “You speak that way to the one you love?”

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  John’s fists clenched. Storm prepared himself to get punched, but nothing came.

  Storm continued speaking while he still could. “You only think you love me because you believe we are mated, which I am still not entirely convinced of. I took your virginity last night, and you’re mistaking the sensations you felt for love.”

  Storm knew all about that. Tony had taken Storm’s virginity, and it took him a long time before he was able to realize that what he felt was not love either.

  John’s face was red. He looked like he was about to pop.

  Storm put his hands on the other man’s shoulders. He winced when John pushed him away.

  So much for the loving caresses. “Whether what you feel is real or not,” Storm said, going for a new approach, “you cannot leave your pack for it. You might love me, but you have loved your pack, and they have loved you, for much longer. To abandon them would be suicide. Wolves survive in packs.”

  “You survived without a pack. All cats do.”

  And look where that had gotten him.

  He wanted to say more, but then an odd smell wafted up his nostrils.

  John seemed to notice it right when Storm had because he stopped glaring at him to search around for the source.

  “That smells like burning,” John said.

  “Yes,” Storm agreed. The scent of burning was never a good thing, and there was no stove or fireplace anywhere near this cheap motel that could be blamed for the scent.

  Hunters liked to burn things.

  “Get the clothes packed. Right now,” John ordered.

  Storm didn’t need to be told. He was already grabbing the shirts and jeans that John had brought and stuffing them, along with everything else they’d brought with them, inside the shoulder bag.

  John opened the door to the bathroom a crack to peek out.

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  He motioned for Storm to follow. The smell of smoke was not coming from their room, and there was no black cloud hanging over their heads, either. Perhaps one of the neighboring rooms was on fire and it just hadn’t spread to here yet. It certainly felt hot enough. They were far from safe.

  Storm put his palm against the wall, and it felt hot all right.

  John went to the front door and looked out the peep hole.

  “I don’t see anyone,” he said. “Shift and we’ll make a run for it.”

  Storm nodded, grabbing the last of their supplies before he zipped up the bag and stuck it around his shoulders.

  He had to admit that it was much easier changing into his cougar form with only that over his back, and the strap didn’t break or stretch uncomfortably either. It was much nicer than holding his clothes in his mouth. He was going to have to get himself a bag like this if he ever traveled again after this.

  Because human hands were required to open doors, John carefully unlocked the door and turned the knob. He opened it just a crack before stepping away and shifting into his wolf. It took him about twenty seconds or so.

  “When I open the door, we’ll both run to the cover of the woods.

  We’ll keep traveling through them and stay off the roads for as long as possible.”

  Storm wasn’t about to argue. It was the very thing he would have done, and he was comforted by John’s ability to think of these things in this sort of situation.

  John nudged his nose through the open crack in the door and opened it the rest of the way. The both of them bolted out like the devil himself was on their tails.

  The screeching of tires on pavement sent Storm’s fear skyrocketing, and he didn’t need to turn around to know who was behind them.

  The hunters had come for them.

  Gunshots sounded, the bullets whizzing past their bodies but 54

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  missing by several feet.

  Storm knew from experience that firing a gun from a moving vehicle wasn’t as easy as it looked.

  “To the trees! To the trees!” J
ohn yelled inside his head.

  The forest area was thick, and the truck wouldn’t be able to follow them inside it. It was strange. The trees weren’t actually that far away.

  They were just across the two-lane highway, but as they were being chased by a truck that was quickly gaining on them, it felt like miles that they had to run.

  The powerful engine growled right behind them, and just when Storm thought he was going to get his tail caught in the tires or something, they burst through the shrubs leading into the woods.

  The truck actually followed them. It tried to, at any rate. John and Storm were forced to run another thirty feet or so, ducking and weaving under and around hanging branches and other growing shrubs before the trees finally got to be thick enough that the truck couldn’t pass them or run them over.

  There was the sound of crunching metal and a hiss of a dying engine behind them as the truck rammed into one of the trees. Storm didn’t stop to turn and see what kind it was, or how totaled the truck was either. He could tell that they wouldn’t be following them in that vehicle.

  As they got farther and farther away, Storm heard the vague sounds of yelling and cursing behind them as the hunters got out of the truck. More shots sounded as the hunters fired on them.

  Storm thought they’d gotten away scot-free, and now it was simply a matter of running to safety since the hunters had no truck to follow them with and couldn’t keep up with them as they ran through the woods.

  Then John all but tackled him, catching him off guard as he got his blind spot, and a long and pained whine came from his throat as they both lost their footing and rolled down a rocky hill.

  Storm was better able to catch himself and get back onto his feet Hunted and on the Run

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  before rolling all the way to the bottom. He shook off the dead leaves from his coat, and now the long scratch down his side was hurting again. All that running, and then the fall against all those rocks, had ripped it open just enough to make it annoying and sting like a bitch.

  He took a couple of test steps and was pleased that he could handle the pain. He would be fine.

  He looked down to the bottom of the hill, expecting to have to inwardly admonish his younger wolf lover for being clumsy and knocking into him.