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  John told Storm as much. The cougar was silent for the next thirty minutes, and John didn’t know what to think about that.

  They kept running on, not wanting to risk that the hunters who stalked them had somehow gotten a hold of some off-road vehicles that would allow them to track the pair even faster, but eventually they did need to talk without running at the same time.

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  The found the river. That was a good thing. Everything would get easy so long as they followed it. This was the same river that went through Brampton, the town that John’s pack was situated outside of.

  That, and John desperately needed a drink and rest for his throbbing leg.

  He shifted back into a man, and so did Storm.

  “We shouldn’t stay longer than five minutes,” he said. Then he must’ve looked down at John when he dunked his head under the water, cooling off and drinking as much as he could.

  When he came back up for air, Storm’s pale brows were all the way up into his hairline. “Maybe we can stretch it to fifteen.”

  John nodded gratefully, and he flopped down onto the bank to catch his breath.

  Storm came over to him and pulled off the shoulder bag he carried, and he grabbed the first aid kit that had been inside. “I really wish you had some more of that fancy water you brought with you.”

  John smiled as Storm pulled out his supplies. “Next time I’ll remember to pack some more,” he said, then jerked and winced when Storm stuck a wet cotton ball soaked with disinfectant on his open wound.

  “Sorry,” Storm said, not sounding very sorry at all.

  “How’s it look?” John asked, shifting onto his elbows so he could see the new hole in his body.

  It was open and oozing blood, but not spurting.

  “I think all that running is keeping your healing abilities from fully taking effect. This should be scabbing by now,” Storm said, still giving the wound all his attention.

  John thought it might be a little childish of him, but he kind of liked the way Storm was taking care of him. “Maybe the scab ripped off when I shifted, or while I was running. It didn’t hurt that much when you woke me up this morning.”

  “That’s a possibility, too.” Storm sighed, getting back to his feet.

  “Shift back into the wolf. I’ll bandage your leg for the next round of Hunted and on the Run

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  running. Maybe that will help.”

  John wanted nothing better than to lay there and rest his leg, but he would be having the permanent rest if he didn’t move his ass, so he did as he was told.

  “The other members of my pack might be traveling a little farther than usual from the territory. I can send out a howl for help by the end of the night. Maybe they’ll hear it and we’ll get some backup,”

  John said once he was back in the body of the wolf.

  Storm was kneeling down in the sand and rocks of the river bank, wrapping the bandages around John’s leg. He was attempting to make it tight enough that it wouldn’t fall off, but not so tight that it would hurt John.

  He failed on that last part.

  “They’ll accept you,” John said when all Storm did was look at him. “Cat or no, former hunter or no, they’ll take you in.”

  Storm sighed. “Just don’t be disappointed when they decide they would rather not have me there.”

  “They’ll have you. You might have to work a little for everyone’s trust, that’s what Isaac did, but they’ll still have you.”

  “Why are you so certain about that?”

  “Because I love you.”

  Storm’s lips twisted. He was still uncomfortable about how easily John said those words, but they were true, and after John had taken a bullet for him, Storm must know it by now as well.

  Storm shifted into his cougar form, and they set off again, following the river to home and hopefully seeing the last of those two hunters.

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  Chapter Seven

  He’d bitten him. That motherfucking flea-ridden wolf had actually gotten him!

  Robert looked at his nose in the small mirror he’d found in the cabin. There had been a pot of water on the stove, and he hadn’t cared about what it could have been used for when he’d used it to clean his face to better see the bite.

  It wasn’t even that deep. The stupid werewolf hadn’t even drawn blood. There was broken skin, but if the bite hadn’t gone deep enough to produce blood, then he must be fine. Right?

  Please God, don’t let me be turning into a werewolf.

  “Will you quit admiring your face in the mirror?” Tatum snapped at him. “We’ve gotta go! They’ve already gotten a head start on us.”

  Robert threw the mirror down so that it smashed on the floor.

  “That fucking wolf bit me! Okay? Give me a minute here!”

  Tatum came into the little shack as Robert put the wet cloth he’d been using back on his nose.

  It was when the man came into his personal space, his eyes serious and glaring, did Robert think that maybe it had been a mistake to tell the man what had happened.

  Robert saw the wet rag on his nose and put it together. “Bit your face?”

  Robert nodded.

  “Let me see.”

  Robert reluctantly pulled the cloth away from his nose when Tatum pulled his hand down. Robert wished he hadn’t broken the mirror. It was dark in here, and maybe there was something he’d Hunted and on the Run

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  missed.

  “There’s no blood,” Robert said quickly. “He didn’t get me good enough to draw blood. That means I won’t change. Right?”

  The look on Tatum’s face, the annoyed expression that spoke volumes to how stupid the man thought Robert was being, made him groan in despair and walk away.

  “I’m gonna change now!”

  “Didn’t draw any blood, but it looks like he still took away a few layers of skin. The places where his teeth got you are all pink from it.

  His venom is definitely in your body. Might take a little longer before it completely takes hold of you, but that’s what it’s going to do.”

  “I washed it away!”

  Tatum shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. It works too fast. You would’ve had to cut your nose off right the second he bit you to’ve saved yourself.”

  Robert groaned again, and he pressed his fists to his eyes. He wanted this nightmare to end already. He wanted to wake up back home with his father and uncles and sister. He wanted his normal life back.

  “Being a wolf isn’t so bad. It could help us,” Tatum said.

  Robert pulled his fists away from his eyes, slowly looking over at his new companion, wondering if he’d heard that right.

  “What?”

  Tatum smiled at him, and for the first time, Robert really took note of the man’s teeth. They were sharper than normal, and his eyes suddenly turned a bright gold that seemed to glow in the dark space of the shack.

  Robert stumbled backward until he bumped into the stove and knocked over the pot of water. “You…what are you? You’re one of them?”

  Tatum shrugged and stepped closer. “It’s easier to hunt them like this. You have no idea how many pelts I’ve been able to collect, how much faster I can run and better I can track now that I’m like this.”

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  Though he was still freaked out, the idea of possibly being able to better stalk his prey had Robert paying attention. “How much better?”

  Tatum reached his hand out, the fingers extending and turning into claws. “So much better. I’ll speed the process up for you, and we’ll get those shifters before nightfall, and you’ll have your revenge.”

  Those words, those almost hypnotic words, were enough to allow Robert to hold still while Tatum put those claws on his face, gripped tightly, and broke the skin until he bled.

  * * * *

  Storm had never had anyone be so openly affectio
nate to him before. He was really starting to believe that John might have true feelings for him beyond the fact that Storm had taken his virginity and that John thought he and Storm were mated.

  He reminded himself that it was dangerous for him to be thinking such things, and if he and John ever got out of this alive, he wouldn’t be too heartbroken when John’s pack alpha denied their match, or when John himself decided he’d made a mistake.

  What would destroy him, however, was the fact that, because Storm owed John a life-debt, when or if John ever decided that he’d made a mistake and Storm wasn’t really the one, Storm wouldn’t be able to simply leave and move on with his life like anyone else would.

  He would be forced to stay at John’s side, at least within a certain distance of him, and he would forever be his servant, always seeing or hearing about when he’d find himself new lovers.

  It shocked Storm to realize that even thinking about something like that was enough to make his heart ache. Storm had served Tony, but he hadn’t cared about the man. At all.

  John was right. The guy could see through him like glass.

  “What are you thinking about?” John asked.

  The wolf limped along beside him, and Storm had stopped running to allow John to catch up to him. They were now traveling at Hunted and on the Run

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  a steady pace, but there were no sounds or scents of hunters behind them, so they were okay to take it slow for a while.

  The only thing that would ruin their journey would be if a nature photographer or something were to see a cougar and a wolf walking side by side and stick in a magazine with one of those big captions.

  “Unlikely Friends,” it would read.

  Actually, Storm might enjoy that.

  “About a lot of things,” Storm said. His stomach rumbled, and he groaned inside of his head.

  He heard John’s stomach growling as well, and not for the first time.

  “Hopefully you weren’t thinking about dinner,” John said, his inward voice sounding miserable.

  They were both starving and quick to become irritable with each other. They’d argued more than once on their journey and then gave each other the silent treatment afterward.

  John’s innocent questions were his way of attempting to break the ice again.

  Maybe he thought he should make peace with him before they both starved to death.

  Then, to his horror, John fell over right next to him. The whole weight of his body landed heavily in the weeds and rocks.

  “John!” Storm screamed inside his lover’s head. He spun around and went to him. Pressing a paw down on John’s shoulder, he gently turned the wolf over so that Storm could better see his face.

  John’s eyes opened slowly, and he groaned. “What happened?”

  “You fell over. I think you fainted.”

  “I don’t faint,” John said. His attempt to get back on four paws was laughable at best. His stomach growled again.

  This was too much. Storm should’ve known better than to think they could travel for so long without hunting for food. Hell, the only thing either of them had for breakfast that morning was the water they’d drank from the river.

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  They were both shifters with high metabolism, and John’s body was still trying to use up all the energy he had to heal itself from that bullet wound. If Storm didn’t do something soon, John wouldn’t be getting back up, and Storm would be joining him.

  The rocks were wet, and it was still early enough in the year that the water was still freezing cold. He had to move John or else he would become sick again. He could die from pneumonia.

  There was no help for it. They were going to have to stop here and rest.

  Storm shifted back into his human form and quickly put his hands under John’s body, lifting him away from the cold and wet rocks.

  He could practically hear John snickering in his mind.

  “You keep carrying me around and I might get the wrong idea,”

  he said.

  “You’re right. I do care, and I don’t want you to die. Now keep your eyes peeled. I’m going to make a den for us.”

  “Sounds romantic,” John said.

  “Smart-ass. ”

  Storm brought them a little ways into the woods where the trees were closer together. He wasn’t about to dig something underground or anything, but it was easy enough for him to grab onto some low-hanging pine branches and bend them down. He tied them in place with some of the longer, thinner, and more bendable sticks he’d pulled off as well. He had to strip away some other branches and carefully place them, but by the time he finished some ten minutes later, he had the rough shape of a hut.

  Better than that, it was camouflaged as well. No one close up would be stupid enough to not see it, but from farther away it would offer some protection in case the hunters were still on their trail.

  Storm placed John inside with their bag of supplies, and he pulled out all of their clothing, folding up the jeans to make a pillow and putting the T-shirts over his chest and legs so he had a blanket. He didn’t think a wolf would need things like that, but he didn’t want to Hunted and on the Run

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  risk that John would be even a little cold, so he’d done it.

  “Stay here,” Storm commanded. He turned to go, but John made a pained wolf whine.

  “Don’t leave. ”

  Storm looked down at him, and he saw the fear in those golden eyes.

  It was oddly comforting to know that he was needed that much.

  Storm bent down and placed a gentle kiss on John’s brow, and he stroked his ears. “I’ll come back with something to eat.”

  Because he was still in his wolf form, Storm wouldn’t have to worry about starting a fire to cook whatever meat he caught, either.

  He could just bring it back and let John take it.

  “Just don’t run away, ” John said, and the weakness in his voice made everything inside of Storm lock up in fear.

  “I can’t. Life-debt, remember?”

  He’d said it only because it was the only excuse he had that John would believe right away. Also because he was starting to doubt if John could even remember that considering how weak his inner voice sounded.

  He wouldn’t have left John there by himself anyway. Life-debt or no life-debt.

  “Right,” John said, closing his eyes.

  Storm made the shift back into his cougar form and exited the little hut he’d made.

  It’s warm in there, and he’ll be safe while I’m gone. Storm tried to force some courage into himself so he could start hunting already.

  The pull he felt to go back in there and lay with the other shifter was strong. It was as though he feared that taking his eyes off of John would make the wolf less safe, simply because Storm wouldn’t be here to see if any predators, human or otherwise, came around the area.

  No, Storm shook the thought from his head, forcing himself to step farther and farther away from the den. John wasn’t safe if he was 84

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  starved for the energy his body needed to heal and keep going, and neither was he.

  Storm went out to hunt.

  He liked to consider himself a proficient hunter, but today, when all he really wanted a quick meal, it seemed to take forever before he finally caught something.

  The rabbit wasn’t enough to satisfy one starving wolf, let alone a near-starved cougar as well.

  It had to be the water John had given him, Storm thought while clenching his teeth, and not for the first time. It shamed him to no end to know that John had had something that could practically perform miracles, that healed Storm’s wound and kept him up with enough energy to run and hunt even after everything he’d been through, and now there was none left for John when he needed it more than ever.

  Wherever this pond was, Storm was going to make sure that John took several-hours-long bath in it once they returned to his pack land.


  Within the hour he managed to catch two more hares, as well as a pheasant.

  It was not a large catch, but it would put something in John’s belly.

  He rushed back to the den he’d built, inwardly sighing with relief at the sight of John still sleeping peacefully within.

  “Wake up! I’ve brought something,” Storm said, dropping his catch onto the ground.

  He had to nudge John’s face with his nose before the wolf would move. “Wake up, I’ve brought you breakfast.”

  The wolf’s eyes opened lazily. John looked down at the catch and weakly pulled himself closer to the meat.

  Storm grabbed hold of one of the hares and set it down in front of John’s paws. Without any words, the wolf began to eat.

  The pheasant was by far the smallest of the catch, so Storm ate that one. The feathers were unpleasant, but he wouldn’t dare complain.

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  At first John consumed the meat slowly, ripping off small bits to chew, but as he got his energy back, he gradually ate faster and faster, even consuming most of the bones. Storm had to wonder whether he’d chewed the last rabbit at all. Or hare. He wasn’t sure what the difference was.

  John looked at him. He still looked weak, and Storm doubted that such a small catch would be enough to fill him, but his eyes were more alert now, and that was all Storm cared about.

  “Where’s yours?”

  “Had mine,” Storm replied, attempting to dig a feather out of his teeth with his tongue.

  Now that they were no longer eating raw meat, they both made the shift back into their human forms. Storm could have done it himself, but John insisted on being allowed to help him bury the carcasses of their meals to keep other animals away.

  “You should’ve had more to eat than that,” John said.

  He knew that, but he wasn’t about to eat any more than he needed to when John was the one who needed food in him more.

  “I’ll be fine for now. I have enough in me to keep me going.”

  When John looked like he was about to keep arguing, Storm cut him off. “Feel free to hunt for me as often as you like when we get back to your pack if that will make you feel better. Until then, we should conserve our energy and keep moving when possible.”