by Marcy Jacks
Jason clearly had the element of surprise. Deacon had no idea
Jason had been about to do that. Neither did Mick.
Jason was definitely not a werewolf when they first met in that
pit—was it only this morning?—and he definitely hadn’t infected him with any of the lycan venom in his teeth or claws when they ran through the woods together.
Which could only mean that Deacon had been the one to do it. Mick wanted to tear his throat out for that, for forcing that decision on his mate, but Jason was doing a fine enough job of it on his own.
All the alphas just watched the show. There was no need for them to jump in, and no one was in a great hurry to save Deacon from his fate.
Nor did they want to get between him and Jason, who continued to bite and claw, to rip and shred, long after Deacon stopped moving.
Clearly, Jason was not in control of his wolf. Understandable, considering the events his first transformation were surrounded by.
“Should someone, I don’t know, do something?” Isaac asked. He had more of a reason than anyone to not want to interfere in the fight, being the only human amongst them, and he was not one bit interested in becoming a wolf like the rest of them.
“I don’t think so,” Morgan said with a shrug, and then pulled the cigarette he had in his ear and put it in his mouth.
Mick stepped forward, ready to put a stop to it.
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“Wait, Mick,” James’s voice barked, and Mick had no choice but
to obey.
“He needs me,” he said, looking back at James, begging him to let him go.
“He needs to calm down first. He would attack even you at this point.”
Mick would deserve it if he did, but he had no choice but to obey his alpha and wait.
Jason was treating Deacon like a dog toy at this point. He’d grabbed a hunk of the man’s back flesh with his teeth and was shaking him around like Deacon was a squirrel in his mouth.
Finally something ripped, and Deacon’s body went flying into the pond with a giant splash, and the once clear pond that Deacon had coveted so much, was spoiled with red blood.
Jason whined, and then stepped forward, as though he wanted to go in after him and do more, but stopped right before his grey paw could touch down on the water. Then he sat, and there he stayed.
Mick looked to James, and finally his alpha gave him the nod of approval that Mick had been waiting for.
Slowly, he walked to his mate. Jason was panting, tongue lolled out, but that didn’t mean his teeth wouldn’t be out in a flash if the
wolf that was now a part of Jason didn’t want Mick anywhere near
him.
Jason’s ears perked as Mick approached, and he tilted his head to look over to see who it was that was coming into his space.
Mick stopped, and when Jason looked away from him, watching the body in the water once more. Mick took a deep breath and took the extra two steps to his goal.
Jason cried when Mick neared him, that wolfy whine that nearly broke Mick’s heart.
“It’s okay,” he said, wrapping his arms around Jason’s shoulders.
His fur was warm and soft.
Maybe there was still something of his human mind in there,
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because Jason leaned his weight into Mick’s embrace, and then he just seemed to let go.
His body made the shift back into a man, bones popping out and back into place as they reformed, the hair either shedding entirely away or shrinking back into his pores until all that remained was pink skin.
Jason had clocked out. Mick didn’t even try to wake him after
what he’d been through. He just wanted to take his mate home.
* * * *
“He’s your mate. You can’t just ignore him forever,” Corey, mate
to James, said.
“For as long as I want to, I will,” and it’s no business of yours, he
added silently.
Mick could still remember the look in Jason’s face when he’d
come to. The way he cowered away from Mick’s hand, demanded he not touch him, and then hid away under his blankets, away from anyone and everyone.
The pathetic thing was the way Mick was feeling sorry for himself about it. Jason had every right to be mad, to not want anything to do with Mick ever again.
Mick had been the one to lock him into their room instead of just taking the extra five minutes to bring him to one of the other houses to hold up with the other omegas. Mick had been the one to give away to Deacon that Jason was his mate, putting a giant target on the back of his head.
It had been Mick’s fault that Jason had been so brutally attacked, kidnapped, and then transformed into a creature he did not want to be.
That was the reason, and the only reason, why Mick just didn’t let him go right then and there. Jason was a newly transformed werewolf. Sending him back out into the world with no family and no connections was the last thing that would be good for him. He needed
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to stay here, at least until James or Old Maggie could arrange for him to stay with another friendly pack.
Corey, however, was still insisting on being a pain in the ass, and he was currently sitting on Mick’s bed―the sheets had been replaced―refusing to leave.
Thinking that Jason wouldn’t want to stay in Mick’s room, despite its size, considering he’d been attacked and infected the last time he’d been inside of it, Mick had arranged for him to stay in Tristan’s old room, from before he’d mated with Isaac.
“James avoided me, too, for a little bit after Dean came for me.
Blamed himself for what happened and everything, but I didn’t blame him, and he’d tortured himself that whole time for nothing.”
Corey scratched at his blond hair with his scarred hand. The hand the hunter who had captured him had poured water contaminated with silver onto. It was now, and forever would be, warped from the silver exposure, the skin heavily wrinkled and three shades darker than normal.
Mick had been there during that rescue, and he’d been there for James when the poor man had went on his self-pity trip.
“This isn’t the same. He told me to get away from him. He doesn’t want me there, so I’m trying to make this as easy for the both of us as possible.”
Corey said nothing for a minute. “You know, Tristan told me that he found Jason crying yesterday in his room.”
That made Mick stop what he was doing, which wasn’t much. Just to keep from having to look at Corey while the other man lectured him, Mick was going through his busted drawer, pretending to rearrange his socks. He looked back at Corey.
The omega nodded. “He thinks you’re punishing him.”
“Why would I—?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he thinks you’re mad because of what Deacon did. But I know he thinks you’re punishing him because he told me that earlier today.”
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Mick didn’t know if he was being tricked or not to just go into Jason’s room, and that annoyed him. “How on earth could he possibly think I’m punishing him?” he demanded.
“Well, you did take him out of your room and have him moved into the guest house, you haven’t spoken to him, and he just found out that you’re asking around the other packs to see if they want a stray omega.”
Mick winced. “I never called him a stray.”
“The point remains,” Corey countered.
“This is ridiculous,” Mick snapped. “He was the one who told me not to touch him. He was the one ”—
“Mick, he was kidnapped, abused, and manhandled by a pervert who was telling him God only knows what while he had him. Jason won’t even tell James what Deacon said to him,” he said, his voice
indicating how impatient he was becoming. “Of course he would want to be alone. He’s not going to want you touching him all the time. Sometimes I can be mad a
nd depressed about what happened with Dean, and I want to be alone then, too, and that’s okay. I know James isn’t going to take that personally.”
Mick hated the tiny spark of hope that was growing within him. The thing inside of him that said Corey might just be right, when it was so much easier to just wallow in his own misery, letting it consume him.
“He’s not mad at me?” Mick asked. He wouldn’t be able to handle
it if he went down to the guest house to see Jason, just for the other
man to shun him.
“No.” Corey shook his head. “Even if he was, you’re planning on sending him out of here. He’s your mate. He deserves to hear you say goodbye to him and that you’re sorry.”
Mick wet his lips then nodded. “You’re right. I’ll go talk to James about maybe putting off meeting with the other packs, and then I’ll go find Jason.”
Corey glared at him.
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Mick got the hint. “Or I can go see him right now.”
“That’s better,” Corey said, getting up from his seat on Mick’s bed and heading for the door.
He stopped before he could leave, and Mick was wary about what else he might say, but then he just kept right on going.
* * * *
Jason didn’t like spending time in the spare room he’d been offered. It was bare save for the bed, nightstand, a lamp, and the few changes of clothes he’d been offered since he came here.
It felt cell-like, and nothing inside of it belonged to him, not even the clothes he wore now. Everything was still at the apartment in the large house he was renting in Brampton, and James had assured him that the pack leader he’d spoken to, the one that was offering to take Jason off of his hands, would make sure Jason would be able to go back there to get his affairs settled and collect his things.
He liked walking in the woods, smelling the new smells, little things that his nose would never have been able to pick up before, and noting the shades of green in the leaves and patches of grass, shades he’d never see on any colour wheel.
It was calming. It made him forget for a little while that he had no friends here, and that Mick wanted him out of his life.
Corey and a couple of the omegas did visit, but having them over was just plain awkward. The two twin alphas, Jason still couldn’t tell the difference between them, had even come over in an attempt to
cheer him up.
The sight of them, and knowing that they were all coming to wish
Jason a fare-thee-well, was almost too much to handle.
Mick wanted him out.
His heart made a painful lurch at that thought, and he rubbed his chest, hoping to push the organ back into a normal rhythm.
It was being stubborn. Having his family and friends cast him off
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with their self-righteous hatred for being gay, well, he’d thought that was the worst thing in his life, but he’d overcome it. Having someone else come to you, tell you that you’re their one and only, just to be ignored by them, too…
Jason was going to have a hard time getting over it a second time around, that was for sure.
His ears twitched at the sound of booted feet, leather by the smell, crunching in the pine needles several yards behind him.
The scent of the person coming came next, and Jason sank a little further into himself.
He’d been hoping for this and dreading it at the same time. Mick was finally going to have his little talk with him, to explain why this wasn’t going to work out and why it was better for Jason to go.
He still didn’t look behind him, even when Mick was only two feet away. “A little birdie told me you’re not eating.”
That must mean Old Maggie. She was the nice lady who had been bringing Jason his meals. They were good, but he just wasn’t hungry and couldn’t force himself to eat everything on his plate, or even half of what was there. She had been nice about it, but clearly she was mentioning it to others.
“I’ve been eating,” he said with a sigh.
“Not enough,” Mick replied.
Annoyance in his voice. Jason wanted to pacify him so that this conversation would end. “I promise I’ll start eating more,” he said.
“Good.”
Though he still wasn’t looking behind him, he could hear the
swivel in Mick’s boot as he was about to turn and leave.
But he didn’t.
“I’m not punishing you, if that’s what you think.”
This time Jason did turn to look at him.
Mick was staring at him, and Jason hadn’t expected to see any pain in his eyes. “I just thought you wouldn’t want to be around me for a while.”
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“You kicked me out of your room.”
“I didn’t kick you out, I just didn’t think you’d want to be in there after Deacon attacked you.” Mick lifted his hand, as though to touch the bandage over Jason’s nose, but then he pulled back.
It had been broken, which had been the cause of his breathing problems. Old Maggie had set it properly for him, and now his new werewolf healing was taking care of the rest. He didn’t even have any black eyes anymore, and his nose barely hurt at all now. He’d been told that when the healing finished, no one would ever be able to tell that it had been broken to begin with.
Jason didn’t need to say any more or to ask any more questions. Clearly this had been a misunderstanding on both of their parts, and Mick had been suffering as much as Jason had these last two days.
“I missed you,” Jason said, his heart pounding in desperation. “Don’t send me away.”
Like gravity itself was pulling at them, they came together in a hard, welcoming kiss, their arms winding around each other, keeping them tightly together.
Mick’s body heat felt wonderful. The body itself was a beautiful thing, and Jason was happy to be able to touch it again.
“You’re not angry? For being a werewolf?” Mick asked when they pulled apart.
Another round of frantic kissing ensued before Jason was able to answer him. “No, this is great. I love running with my new speed. I can see colors I never saw before. I love it.”
Mick smiled at him, touching his face, and then kissing him again. Neither of them was eager to let go of the other, but eventually, it had to be done. “Take your clothes off. I’ll show you all the best trails to go on and all the private paths.”
Not the words of a man who didn’t want to be around him, and
Jason felt a euphoric relief surge through him.
He loved this man, and they were going to stay together. If Jason had his way, too, running wouldn’t be the only thing they did whilst
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out in the forest today either.
They had some catching up to do, and Jason had been told that sex
as a werewolf was the best kind of sex out there.
He figured that makeup werewolf sex would be even better.
THE END
MARCYJACKS.COM
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marcy Jacks lives and writes in Ontario, Canada, where she is fervently pursuing the writer’s life while writing about lots of
gorgeous guys.
For all titles by Marcy Jacks, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/marcy-jacks
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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