A Wolf's Life

by Marcy Jacks

  Maxwell was out here somewhere, right? What if he yelled for him real loud and—

  "Stop."

  Noah's captor raised his fist. Noah nearly walked right into him, catching himself before that could happen.

  He could hardly see a thing out here. He wasn't a shifter, and he wasn't made to see this sort of thing, but as the bushes rustled, his heart sped up.

  Another wolf stepped out of the shrubs and then another.

  Noah sighed, but when the man in black stepped forward to greet them, that terrible, cold feeling returned to his belly.

  "All right, did you guys get any?"

  One of the wolves shifted, becoming a tall man wearing the same black gear as his friends. He didn't look as though he had any guns on him, but maybe he didn't feel he needed them. Wolves could shift with most of their clothes on. Could they shift with guns and knives?

  "We got some." The werewolf snapped his fingers, and the bushes rustled again.

  Sam was there, along with a few other people Noah didn't recognize. They were young, in their pajamas. The oldest couldn't be older than seventeen.

  Noah felt a terrible pain building up in his gut.

  These were kids from this pack. There was no other explanation for it. They lived here, and these shifters were taking them.

  "Are they wolf souls?"

  "This one is," said the shifter, pushing Sam hard on the shoulder. He stumbled forward, falling to his knees, and only then did Noah make out the huge bruise on his face.

  "Not the others? Why bother with them?"

  The wolf shifter snorted. "We come all this way and find only two escapees? Might as well get something else out of it."

  Noah caught Sam's eye. He didn't give anything away. Not a shake of his head or a hard look. Sam stared down at his hands, but the signal was clear.

  These bastards hadn't found Gus, and he and Sam were going to keep their mouths shut about that, too.

  The last thing Noah wanted was for these guys to be here. The second last thing he wanted was for them to take Gus away.

  They already had their pick of prisoners, and that was bad enough.

  The man who hurt Noah’s arm let his head fall back before releasing an angry sigh. “Motherfucker, we didn’t come here for—”

  Sam shouted, catching everyone off guard as he threw himself at the legs of the man who gripped Noah’s arm until it felt like mashed potatoes.

  Noah was impressed when he actually managed to catch the guy off guard, and the rest of their captors swooped in to pull Sam off.

  So Noah snapped his fingers in the eyes of the oldest kid, snapping him out of his daze and yelling, “Run!”

  They did.

  Even the howling they heard behind them wasn’t enough to make them stop.

  Chapter Ten

  Maxwell rushed through the trees and thorns, taking the best shortcut he could to get back home.

  The farther he ran, the more different people he smelled, and more strange wolves.

  And Noah. Noah's scent was on the air. He was out here.

  Maxwell growled. He wasn't about to let these assholes get away with this. He was not!

  Collin growled next to him, picking up speed and even overtaking Maxwell. He understood why when he caught Sam's scent out here, as well.

  Maxwell had been right. They'd used those wolves to lure Noah and Sam out of their hiding places, and now they were in trouble.

  He followed after the other man, letting Collin lead him until they made it to the clearing where a small battle seemed to be taking place.

  Collin jumped onto one of the men, knocking him away from Sam, who had been on the ground getting pummeled.

  More wolves. Maxwell saw them as he stood over Sam.

  Jesus Christ, how many of these people were here? How many of them had sold their souls to the devil?

  Maxwell raised his hackles, puffed himself out, sucked back a hard breath, and roared a terrible noise at everyone dumb enough to still be standing around him.

  They all looked amongst each other. Maxwell's adrenaline pumped so hard that he hoped one of them tried it. One of the wolf bastards was in his human shape. The little bitch raised his mask up, hiding his face when he realized there was nothing he could do, and he whistled at the others, drawing their attention before slinking off into the woods.

  "Hey! Where do you think you're going?"

  Maxwell turned, spotting a human wearing that same black getup. He smelled scared, his sweat soaking through his uniform as he stared after the wolves who were abandoning him while Collin ripped apart his friends.

  And Maxwell growled at him, lowing his head, letting the man see his teeth.

  Because Maxwell could smell Noah on this piece of shit. He could smell Noah's fear on him.

  Motherfucker. He wanted to kill him. Wanted to tear him limb from limb for what he tried to do.

  So why not do it?

  "Don't you come near me," the man said, pulling a gun. He sounded like he was about to piss himself. He smelled a little like piss right now, but the weapon was enough reason for Maxwell to pause.

  A frightened human could still be a dangerous one, even to a shifter like Maxwell. He didn't want to get shot.

  The piece of shit smiled at him, as if he thought he'd won one over on Maxwell. "Yeah, that's what I thought. You stay away from me, you sack of shit. You fucking disease-ridden fur ball.

  He backed up, and Maxwell slowly followed him. He wasn't about to let him get far.

  Also, he wanted to keep the man's eyes on him so he couldn't see Collin sneaking up behind.

  Maxwell smiled. The human swallowed hard, and just as he realized there was something wrong, it was too late.

  The man turned his head then tried to point his weapon at the wolf about to fall on him.

  The gun went off, but only after Collin snapped his teeth shut around the guy's arm. He shrieked a sound that made Maxwell's eardrums swell, but then there was nothing. The screaming stopped quickly when Maxwell chomped his teeth down on the side of his throat from behind.

  That stopped the screaming fast enough, but there was no satisfaction to be had while Noah was still out there somewhere.

  Maxwell abandoned Sam, Collin, and the dead man to whatever Collin wanted to do with him. It didn't matter to Maxwell anymore. He had to find his mate. He wouldn't rest until Noah was safe.

  * * * *

  Noah tripped and fell on his way back to the houses. A boy stopped suddenly and turned, as though about to help him get up, but Noah waved him away.

  “Take them! Take the little kids, hurry.”

  Noah was stunned he could say something like that when there were people behind him who wanted to imprison him, but he wanted to be selfless while he still had the chance.

  Drowning victims tried to take their rescuers down with them. Noah wanted to get this kid to lead the other little kids to safety while he was still in the right frame of mind and not begging to be left behind.

  The kid turned back around, running with the others, and this time he didn’t look back.

  Noah breathed deep. His lungs were on fire, and in the distance, he could see the lights from some of the houses.

  He was almost there, but he was sweating, tired, and in pain.

  Noah thought of Maxwell’s face.

  He pushed himself to his feet.

  He wanted to see the other man again. He didn’t want to be left behind. He wanted Maxwell to come home and find him there.

  If Maxwell was hurt again, he might need Noah to be there to help him heal.

  But his side hurt so much, almost as much as the throbbing in his arm. He didn't like it. He hated this. Maxwell had told him he would be safe and yet…

  No. Noah wasn't going to do that to himself. He was going to get out of this. He was going to fight. This was his life. He wasn't going to stop until he got home, and he wasn't going to complain about this either.

  He pushed forward. One more step. And then an
other and then another. Each step forward brought him one step closer to getting where he needed to go.

  One step at a time. That was what he needed to focus on. When he did that, each successful step that brought him closer to the houses seemed like a small victory, like one step closer to seeing Maxwell again.

  But there was still shouting and fighting. He could hear it as he got closer. Noah used the last of his energy reserves to push himself forward just a little faster.

  The kids. He'd sent them ahead. There were still bad people out there who wanted to hurt them, who wanted to take them away from their parents and do God only knew what to them.

  Noah made it to the outskirts of the territory. Almost every light in every house and trailer was on now, giving the night a sort of strange glow as men, women, and wolves alike ran around in chaos.

  Noah didn't know how to tell the difference between who was a friend and who was an enemy. He fell to his knees, his legs no longer able to support his weight.

  He just wanted to rest. His lungs burned, and that last burst of energy left him. He couldn't do it. He couldn't go on.

  Something snapped behind him. Noah had a look.

  A wolf stood there. Big, Like Maxwell, but it didn't have the same colored fur. Maxwell's fur was a beautiful shade of jet black. This creature had gray, white, and black fur with uneven patches in certain places. As though it had lost a lot in fights or was incredibly unhealthy.

  Noah could definitely tell this wasn't a friendly wolf by the way it looked at him, however.

  He could see it in the raised hackles of the creature, the exposed teeth, and the red eyes.

  Noah shivered. He didn't want to die, but there was literally five feet between himself and this wolf here, and Noah didn't have…

  Wait, yes he did. He still had another blade on him. The smaller one. The wolves hadn't noticed it when they'd taken his other knife from him, and Noah almost forgotten all about it.

  He pulled it free from its sheath, holding it up against the other wolf.

  It jerked its head back, eyeing the weapon in Noah's hand before it growled again.

  As though the damned wolf knew just how screwed Noah really was.

  Noah felt it as the animal stepped closer to him.

  This tiny thing wouldn't be able to get through the fur around the wolf's neck, even if this shifter didn't look like a disease-ridden monster.

  Opening his mouth, the wolf took another step closer. Noah shuffled back, not knowing what to do.

  "M-Maxwell! Maxwell! Help me!"

  Please, let him be around to help.

  The wolf lunged. Noah held out his knife, not daring to drop it as the creature lunged.

  He felt the heat of the animal, felt its breath wafting over his body, but there was no impact. There was something heavier instead.

  Noah opened his eyes as he heard the crash, watching, fascinated and kind of terrified that what he was seeing couldn't possibly be real.

  He was dead. He had to be dreaming this. There was no way he could be that lucky after everything.

  Noah slumped against the nearest rock he could find, watching as the two wolves battled it out with each other, rolling like wild animals, struggling to outdo each other.

  But it was clear how the wolf with the black fur was going to win against the one with the patches of fur missing. There was no way he couldn't win. Again and again Noah watched as the black wolf pinned his rival.

  The wolf that had wanted to eat Noah's face had looked big up close, but now that Noah had something else to compare it to, he could see the real size difference between it and Maxwell.

  Because it was Maxwell. Noah could tell. He could feel it, practically see it in Maxwell's aura.

  This was the same wolf that had come to the abandoned pencil factory and saved his life, and now he was here again.

  Noah just wished he didn't feel like he was going to pass out as he watched Maxwell put the other wolf in his place.

  Maxwell got him down again, and this time the scrappy thing didn't seem capable of getting back up.

  Maxwell was apparently not about to take the risk either. His teeth came down on the side of the other wolf's head.

  Noah knew what was coming, so he turned away, cringing at the sound of the snap.

  He shivered. That noise was so terrible. Even though the other wolf had wanted to kill him, and he didn't exactly feel sorry for him dying, it was just such an odd thing to know someone was dying right in front of him.

  Noah kept his eyes closed. He couldn't seem to get any control over his breathing, and when the black wolf came up to him, Noah felt it before he saw it.

  He felt it in the body heat, the breathing, and then, instead of being terrified, a weight was lifted from his shoulders.

  Noah exhaled a hard breath. He looked into the golden eyes of the wolf. The kind, gentle eyes. There was nothing to be concerned about here. Nothing to fear. Even with the blood on Maxwell's muzzle.

  Noah smiled. He reached his hands up, touching the wolf's nose.

  Maxwell closed his eyes, as though he were getting something from that touch.

  Noah felt it because he was getting something from it, too.

  His body warmed. Noah was still tired, but he didn't feel the pain in his arm so much or the cramping in his stomach from all the running.

  He felt…better.

  Noah leaned his face against the wolf's muzzle. He halfheartedly hoped he wasn't leaning his cheek against someone's blood, but at the moment, he was way too tired and too at peace to care much about that.

  Noah just wanted to keep touching this amazing wolf that made his body not hurt so much.

  Something changed. Noah was pushed back gently, and then he felt hands touching him instead of fur, powerful hands that lifted him up into even stronger arms.

  "Come on, sweetheart. I'll get you taken care of."

  Noah leaned into Maxwell's chest. He didn't care where the man took him, just so long as Maxwell didn't put him down.

  Chapter Eleven

  When Noah opened his eyes, it was bright out. Daylight kind of bright. He turned and saw Maxwell's bare chest right up against his nose.

  He blinked, looking up at the other man, seeing Maxwell's sleeping face.

  He looked so at peace, but Noah supposed that was because of the exchange of energy, or whatever it was that passed between them while their legs tangled beneath the sheets.

  Noah sighed and pushed himself deeper into Maxwell's arms. Only when he wrapped his own arms around the man's solid body did he realize his arm didn't hurt.

  Like at all.

  Noah brought his hand up, flexing his fingers then the muscle of his arm.

  Nothing. A little tight, maybe, but that was the extent of it.

  Everywhere else on his body that was actively touching Maxwell felt like he'd just drank an ice-cold Sprite.

  Tingly and refreshing.

  Noah sighed.

  Maxwell rumbled, his large hand trailing across Noah's back. "How do you feel?"

  Noah didn't flinch. Part of him figured the other man might wake up at some point. He was an alpha wolf after all. What were the odds that he wouldn't be aware of any small movement happening in his own bed?

  "Noah?"

  Noah cleared his throat. "All right. Better. What happened?"

  "You passed out. I was worried." Maxwell's arms held him tighter, but again, there was no sense of fear in this. Noah didn't feel as though he were being squashed or suffocated.

  He wanted to get as close as possible to that refreshing, tingling feeling.

  "I don't think I was hurt too bad. I thought my arm was broken."

  "We can take you in for an X-ray, just in case."

  Noah didn't think he needed it, especially after spending some time in Maxwell's arms.

  "Is the rest of the pack all right? Sam! I left behind Sam!"

  He tried to push himself up. Maxwell grabbed his shoulders, stopping him before he could j
ump out of bed.

  "Sam's all right. He's with Collin. Collin is keeping him safe."

  Noah wasn't sure how that could be possible. "I left him behind. Sam saved us. The kids and I…we ran."

  And only now was it occurring to Noah that he probably should have stayed behind. He had a knife. He was an adult. What if Sam had been hoping to get Noah in on the distraction so the kids could leave? Was he disappointed in Noah for running away with them?

  "Don't feel bad about that. Sam is all right. Trust me. Remember, Collin thinks there might be something there between them. Being with Collin will help him recover."

  Noah's heart wouldn't stop beating hard. The guilt wouldn't leave him. Even if Sam was all right…

  "I shouldn't have left him. I left him."

  "And he understands. Trust me, sweetheart. Please."

  Maxwell held Noah tighter. It helped, but Noah didn't think this was something he would easily get over until he had the chance to speak to Sam one on one.

  "Are you sure he's all right?"

  Maxwell nodded, still rubbing Noah's back. "Collin has been sending me updates. There were other issues though. I won't be able to stay in bed with you for much longer."

  Noah cringed. He remembered the chaos of last night. The people screaming and running around. Maxwell would have to look into that. He would have to make sure everyone was recovering well.

  For the people that could recover at all.

  "Did anyone…die?"

  "Yes."

  Noah pressed his forehead to Maxwell's chest, needing more of that healing energy the other man was giving to him. "You know what I mean."

  This time there was a little more of a hesitation. "Yes."

  Noah shivered. "I'm sorry."

  "It's not on you."

  That didn't mean Noah didn't feel as though it was on him. Others would blame him, too. Blame him and Sam and Gus for bringing this to their door.

  Right now, Noah didn't want that. He didn't want any blood on his hands. He wanted to be with the man he loved. He wanted to be with his mate.

  He wanted Maxwell to make him feel good.

  Noah pulled back from his mate's arms. He pushed himself to his knees, looking down at the other man.