James's Savior [A Dragon's Growl 5] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove)
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A Dragon’s Growl 5
James’s Savior
After getting injured defending the omega he kidnapped, the tables have been turned, and James is at the mercy of the fox shifter. The mission was supposed to be easy. All James had to do was deliver the vampire lord’s favorite slave, and he could earn his freedom.
But there is something about Miles that James cannot ignore. The cute little fox shifter calls to him in a way no one ever has, and makes him want to turn his back on everything to protect him.
Taylor lied. His name isn’t Miles, but terrified his kidnapper would kill him, Taylor never corrected his kidnapper’s mistake. Taylor should have run, but he can’t leave James to die. He wants to care for the man, and this strange lust he feels is confusing everything.
They’re not done running from the people who want both of them dead, and before they can be together, they’ll have to fight for their lives.
Genre: Alternative (M/M, Gay), Contemporary, Paranormal, Shape-shifter, Vampires/Werewolves
Length: 26,149 words
JAMES’S SAVIOR
A Dragon’s Growl 5
Marcy Jacks

Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
JAMES’S SAVIOR
Copyright © 2017 by Marcy Jacks
ISBN: 978-1-64010-489-1
First Publication: July 2017
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2017 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
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PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marcy Jacks lives and works in Ontario Canada and lives with her dog. She loves writing about gorgeous guys in tricky situations. You can reach her at authormarcyjacks@gmail.com
For all titles by Marcy Jacks, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/marcy-jacks
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
About the Author
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
Landmarks
Cover
JAMES’S SAVIOR
A Dragon’s Growl 5
MARCY JACKS
Copyright © 2017
Chapter One
So many scars.
Taylor couldn’t help but notice them as he cared for the man who’d kidnapped him out of his bed so many nights ago. It seemed like a lifetime ago, and by now, Taylor knew no one was coming to get him.
So he didn’t know why he was still taking care of the man who kidnapped him.
“Don’t touch me,” James mumbled. He swiped his hand out. Taylor ducked back just before the man could slap him across the face.
He wasn’t sure if James meant to do that, to punch him, or just push him away, but the fever he pushed made the small space in the shack heat up as if the entire structure were on fire.
“You’re sick. I’m trying to take care of you.”
Those dark eyes, such a deep and intense shade of brown they were practically black, briefly rolled up into the back of James’s head. “Don’t need…don’t need it.”
Taylor wet the cloth in the bowl he’d found. The water was clean, that much was a plus, though it would have been better if there was an actual bed to put him in, instead of just the old sheets and pieces of James’s ninja gear, or whatever it was, to keep him warm.
“You definitely do.” Taylor put the cloth over James’s forehead. The water was room temperature, but it was nice and cold in comparison to James’s body heat. “You’re lucky I’m nice. You’d better not kill me when I’m done with you either. You owe me for this.”
James mumbled, an incoherent noise that could have meant literally anything.
Taylor sighed. In truth, he hadn’t left because James had been injured while keeping Taylor safe.
Apparently there was a level of politics that went on even among the assassins who worked for slave-owning vampires. James had been powerful and sleek when he’d kidnapped Taylor out of his bed from the former vampire mansion.
Now, he was as helpless as a newborn kitten. The man who had tied Taylor’s hands together and forced him to walk until his feet bled, who made Taylor sleep on the cold, hard ground, and was meant to bring him back to the vampires so they could do…whatever it was they wanted to do to him was now at Taylor’s mercy.
The delicious irony of it was that Taylor hadn’t been the right target. James had been looking for Miles, the favorite of the head of the vampire household, Varrick, and the only other omega fox shifter in the entire house.
James was a talented kidnapper, a stealthy assassin and warrior, but when it came down to making sure he kidnapped the right omega, his skills left something to be desired.
“I should leave you behind to die out here, I really should,” Taylor said. He had yet to tell James what his real name was out of fear that the second James found out he had the wrong man, Taylor would be a dead man.
He still wasn’t sure if he should make that big reveal or not.
Sometimes there was just too much damned stress for him to properly focus.
“Why the hell did you have to save my life?” Taylor’s gaze scanned up and down the scarred expanse of James’s perfect chest.
His abdomen was the kind of thing a blind sculptor might want to touch and stroke, letting their fingers dip into each groove there to memorize them, replicate them with clay.
Taylor wished he knew how to draw or sculpt. Would it be weird if his kidnapper woke up to find Taylor sketching his body?
Probably a little weird. He was so glad that whatever the hell James was didn’t involve mind reading.
Taylor had thought wolf at first, alpha wolf, but there was something else in there he couldn’t pick up on. Something different.
It had been in James’s eyes when he’d fought against those goons who had set him up to fail in his mission.
The pricks.
James was sweaty a little more and shivering. Taylor looked back at the tiny fire he’d managed to make. He wanted to keep it small so no light escaped the closed windows and so he wouldn’t burn down the rotting shack around him and James, but as it was now, it was barely a pile of red and orange embers.
Shit.
Taylor put the wet cloth back into the water bowl. He ripped away some more rotted wood from the floor over in the corner, broke it apart into even smaller pieces, and then used them to
coax those embers back into a real fire.
He returned to his task at hand, which mostly consisted of sitting above his kidnapper, watching him, washing away the sweat from his brow and body, and contemplating the many scars over his olive-colored skin.
His flesh would be perfect had it not been for those scars. Definitely alpha material, and the kind of thing Taylor liked to think about when he was alone in the shower.
Taylor crossed his legs, elbows on his knees, chin on his fists.
If this were a romance novel, or any kind of action and adventure story, James would wake up, realize what a shitty thing he’d been doing to Taylor, and maybe they would work together to help Taylor get back home since Taylor had no clue where the hell he was.
They might even end up in bed together. The hero always got the girl, after all.
Looking at James again, Taylor knew which one of them would be in the dominant position. In no way could Taylor picture himself dominating this guy right here, and he didn’t want to. Not his style. Taylor didn’t exactly have any experience with it, but he always pictured himself as the passive partner.
And why the hell was he thinking about this again?
Taylor blinked, his attention suddenly rushing to his dick. He looked between his legs, expecting to see the damned thing through his sweaty, dirty clothes.
Of course not. He didn’t have x-ray vision, but his cock was definitely twitching, and Taylor could make out a hint of an outline attempting to push through and make itself known.
In another thirty seconds Taylor was going to have a full-on tent down there.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Taylor jumped to his feet. He needed to get away from James. Holy shit. James had kidnapped him, and Taylor was the gross and perverted one, getting hard while looking at the man’s chest and nipples.
No! He couldn’t think about that anymore! He wouldn’t.
Taylor exited the shack, pulling the three-legged stool away from the pathetic excuse for a door and stepping outside.
He didn’t have to look far to find a place that was relatively private. He was out in the middle of nowhere, and it would have been pitch-dark outside had it not been for the full moon above his head.
Some of that blue light managed to stream through the canopy above his head, which was just enough for him to see where he was going.
About twenty feet away, a little closer to the stream. It wasn’t thick or deep enough for washing his whole body, but he would at least have running water to clean his hands up.
Taylor hoped there were no bugs around, but holy shit, he was desperate. He never thought he’d feel lust again after being rudely awoken from his sleep and dragged around the damned wilderness like this, but here he was, leaning his back against a birch tree, his hands scrambling with his pajama pants, pushing them down in a frantic rush while he tried not to scratch himself with his tiny claws.
He hadn’t had a change of clothes since he’d been taken, but at least it made it easy enough to get his cock out.
He groaned when fresh air touched the shaft of his dick. The length slapped against his belly as it sprang free.
Taylor looked down at himself, briefly biting his lips together before he curled his fingers around the base, and then his eyes were rolling to the back of his head.
He was so horny. He’d never been this uptight, this desperate for release since he was a teenager.
Living in a house where many of the slaves were used as pleasure slaves, he’d known it was always best to make sure no one around him knew whenever he was having these kinds of problems.
A lot of ice down his pants happened at night and during the mornings to keep the vampires from scenting his lust and wanting to help him take care of it.
It was a minor miracle he’d made it out of that situation mostly untouched.
Now, he touched himself as if it were the first time he’d ever felt pleasure. It almost felt that way. Taylor gasped, his orgasm right there on the edge of his consciousness, ready to be released with a bang.
Nope. The bang he felt was just to the back of his head when he slammed it back against the tree trunk.
“Shit,” he cursed, but the pain in the back of his head wasn’t enough to stop his hand from moving back and forth or his hips from pumping, letting him fuck into his fist.
He wanted something else, however. This felt good, so good, but it would feel better if these were someone else’s hands over his cock.
He would curl his arms around Taylor from behind. He’d be taller, stronger, his chin resting on top of Taylor’s head, between his fox ears. His powerful arms would reach down, and his warm hands, callused but still handling him gently, would stroke the length of his cock just to tease before his other hand reached back to gently fondle Taylor’s testicles.
God, Taylor clenched his eyes tightly shut. He knew exactly who he was thinking of in that moment, but he couldn’t let himself say it out loud. He barely let himself picture the man’s face in his mind.
It was too much, too dirty to be thinking of his kidnapper like this.
But then, no. Taylor wasn’t doing anything wrong. He hadn’t been touched by anyone in such a long time. It had even been awhile since he’d jerked off when James had come around to kidnapping him, and it was only natural that Taylor would need the release.
Also, screw James. He was Taylor’s kidnapper after all. If he ended up being the fantasy Taylor used to get off, then that was his damned fault and Taylor wouldn’t feel guilty for it. He owed James no consideration when it came down to whom Taylor happened to be thinking of.
He’d spent a couple of weeks with James as his only company. It didn’t matter if the man was currently sick. It just made sense that he would end up being the face Taylor’s mind pulled forward when he needed someone to think about like this.
“Oh God, fuck yeah.” Taylor sighed, going along with it, pretending these were someone else’s hands, that James touched him like this, that it was James’s mouth and tongue that eventually came down on the head of his cock to lick and tease him, making him feel good.
Making him feel alive and not as if he’d been fighting for his life for way too damned long.
Hands everywhere. Mouth, lips, tongue, on his cock, his testicles. Those hands would grip the back of Taylor’s ass, pulling his hips forward. They did just that, swallowing. The pressure too much.
Taylor came. He shouted with the force of his orgasm, probably scaring a couple of birds out of their nests.
And he didn’t care. He didn’t care if he woke the wildlife around him, and he didn’t care that he was supposed to be in hiding from the other assassins out there who wanted James dead and Taylor’s throat slit because they all thought he was someone else.
He didn’t care.
Taylor opened his eyes, frowned that his fantasy was still going, and then tensed.
He looked down.
James was right there, and the man gasped as Taylor’s cock slipped from his mouth before he looked up at Taylor with those beautifully dark, cloudy eyes.
Taylor had a small heart attack. “Oh fuck.”
Chapter Two
Hot. It was too damned hot. James had no other word to describe it, and he’d worked in intense heat before.
Part of his training. Fire all around his body. Hot irons. Down in the brick and concrete dungeons, created almost like a mini coliseum by his vampire masters.
One wrong move and the burn scars would be the least of his worries, especially when his opponent was inches away from him, ready to kill.
Killing was the only option. Only one could make it out alive. The difference was how James could sense his opponent’s lack of drive. He didn’t want to kill. James didn’t either, but he wasn’t going to let that get in the way of his chance at life.
His chance at happiness with his only family.
James swung his fist, gracefully avoiding the hot irons hanging around him, but instead of having his knuckles crack against the n
ose of his opponent, he touched only air.
And his eyes snapped open.
James shot up, gasping for breath, sweat drenching his body. He was hot and cold at the same time, and the small fire caused a panic within him at first.
His gaze flew across the room, for that was what it was. A small, square room. The scent of rotting wood was everywhere, making him feel almost sick with it.
But the light from the dying fire, no matter how it dimmed, was enough to show him there was no one there with him.
No one with a blade could hide in such small, vague shadows. No one who wanted their claws against his throat.
The only items he could detect were the ones he lay on. His own shirt and mask and several musty sheets that had once been the home to spiders. Poisonous spiders?
He searched, just in case.
No spiders, poisonous or otherwise.
It was always wise to check. Once a member of an elite vampire household had been poisoned to death when someone placed a spider in her bed.
To this day, no one knew who the culprit was, and the lady’s husband wasn’t taking any chances. He killed almost every member of his staff and then ordered new guards in, who, in turn, killed the assassins and guards who had failed to protect his woman.
That was the rumor, at any rate.
Nowhere for an enemy to hide, and there was nothing poisonous in this tiny, filthy bed he’d been sleeping in on the floor.
There was only a single door. At first, the fact that it was slightly ajar was reason for concern. James pushed himself to his knees and then to his feet. He trembled in a way he hadn’t since…he wasn’t going to think of it.
It was a long time ago.