James's Savior [A Dragon's Growl 5] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove)

by Marcy Jacks

  Taylor leaned down, putting his hands back under James’s arms, ignoring the heated sizzle that rushed through him again when he made skin-to-skin contact.

  He dragged James back to the shack, inches at a time. The man was solid muscle, and he proved just how heavy that muscle could be.

  Taylor wished James had called out his name, but that wouldn’t happen because James thought Taylor was someone else. He thought Taylor was Varrick’s personal sex slave.

  Right. There was no way in hell he would have touched Taylor if he’d been in the right frame of mind, not if he really believed that.

  Taylor huffed and puffed for breath when he made it back to the shack, and definitely not for the pleasurable reasons he’d been huffing and puffing when James had been inside him.

  How long was he going to feel that burn in his backside? It was nice, but it also shamed him.

  He felt his fox ears folding flat onto the back of his head. Right. This was going to be a hard one to get over. The first time in his life he’d ever had sex, and it was he who was in the wrong. He’d taken advantage of someone, and even though James was working for the vampires, Taylor didn’t like that. He didn’t like admitting that about himself.

  He didn’t know whether or not to hope for James to forget about the whole thing when he woke up.

  Forgetting about it wouldn’t mean it hadn’t happened, but what would James do if he woke up and realized what he’d done? He would believe his life in danger for fucking the prized and favored slave of his master.

  There was no telling what would happen, or how he would take that anger out on Taylor when he woke up.

  Taylor tended to the fire again when he had James safely back onto the old sheets. He tried to tuck the man in as much as he could, but it was difficult with the rags he had to work with.

  Taylor had just wanted to get off. He hadn’t wanted…he didn’t want James to be angry with him. He didn’t want to be like the vampires. They were the ones who took advantage when others didn’t want it. They were the ones who didn’t leave their victims with a choice.

  That wasn’t supposed to be Taylor.

  Taylor cleaned himself up as much as possible, but he couldn’t get rid of this new feeling of filth on himself. He had to go out and get more fresh water. It was going to be a long night.

  * * * *

  James slowly came back up to consciousness. His mind and vision were both a blur. He could hardly focus on anything. He didn’t know where he was, why he was so cold, or what that smell was either.

  Rotting wood. The charcoal of a dying fire.

  He snapped his eyes wide, awareness coming back to him. He sat up quickly, eyes scanning the shack, searching for any hint of a threat, anyone who might be trying to sneak up on him when he was vulnerable.

  A bird chirped somewhere. The fire was going, but it seemed to be more for the sake of warmth than light since it was already so bright in here.

  A small hole in the roof was enough to allow bright light to stream in, lighting up every inch of the shack, leaving no shadows an assassin would be able to hide in.

  He didn’t relax.

  Where was Miles? He needed the fox shifter here. He needed…

  James’s heart stopped in his chest for two painful seconds. He clutched at his chest, willing it back to work.

  When it started back up again, he exhaled a hard breath.

  Oh dear God. What had he done?

  The rotting door swung open. Miles appeared, looking a little fresher than James would have thought, considering what had happened last night and the way he’d been caring for James.

  The smaller man stopped dead at the sight of him, those black-tipped fox ears falling flat on top of his head, as if he were already afraid.

  “You’re awake?” Miles cleared his throat then raised the long scrap of fur he’d been holding in his hand. “I brought you something to eat.”

  It was a dead squirrel. James was shocked, and mildly impressed.

  “I didn’t realize you could hunt.”

  “Uh, not really,” Miles admitted, avoiding eye contact. “I think I just got lucky. There were a few of them and…anyway, I think I could clean it without butchering it too much. I hear squirrel tastes pretty good.”

  James nodded. “It does, with some salt.”

  Miles created a wide circle around James then sat on the other side of the fire. A bunch of sticks and dry bark lay in the corner, and he used those to raise the fire a little. “You’ve eaten it.”

  “Of course.”

  “Oh, was it part of your training?”

  James nodded. “Even roadkill is better than starving.”

  Those fox ears perked up high on top of Miles’s head, as if what James had just said had caught his attention somehow.

  “You should let me clean it,” James said. “You’ll butcher the meat, and you need food as well.”

  James wasn’t entirely sure how long he’d been ill, but he knew, in that time, Miles had been forced to fend for himself.

  Catching a squirrel might have been a lucky break, but for all James knew, the man had been starving.

  “O-okay,” he said, stammering the word and still not looking James in the eye.

  James shoved the disgusting rags from his body, relieved to see his pants were still on.

  Then he was not so relieved to realize it was Miles who had righted them since James couldn’t remember pulling them back up after he’d come.

  Fuck.

  Miles sat on his ankles, twitching a little as James came around to the other side of the fire. He looked at the squirrel. Teeth marks around the neck. He could just imagine Miles in his fox shape chasing it down, catching it, and then shaking it around until the tiny neck snapped.

  “It’s a good kill. You shifted to catch it?”

  Miles nodded. “Yeah.”

  James wished he could have seen it. He liked foxes, and it would have been something to see Miles in his true fox form hunting for food.

  “Where are my knives?”

  Miles tensed.

  “For the squirrel,” he said.

  Miles’s throat worked in a hard swallow. He hesitated, and then he went back into the corner when he’d kept the dry pieces of wood and bark. Beneath it all were the belt and holsters James used for his weapons.

  Miles brought them to James.

  James sighed, checking the blades first and then pulling out the one he thought most proper for the task at hand.

  From the corner of his eyes, James noted the way Miles’s shoulders did not relax as James began cleaning the skinning the squirrel.

  He could have shoved a lump of coal up the man’s ass and a diamond could pop out.

  Luckily, as James continued with the catch, Miles slowly began to unwind, realizing the blade was not for him.

  “I won’t hurt you,” James said, barely stopping himself from adding the word again to that sentence.

  Miles’s Adam’s apple bobbed in another swallow. James sighed.

  “It’s a good catch. The squirrel is nice and fat. It should give you a good amount of protein until I can catch a deer for you.”

  He would take even a rabbit at this point, but at least this was something.

  “What have you been eating while I’ve been out?” James glanced around. “Hand me that stick over there. The thicker one.” He pointed to the pile Miles had created for burning.

  Miles brought it to him. “I, uh, mostly ate the berries I found. There’s a stream not too far from here, and there were blueberry bushes all around. I nearly caught a small fish yesterday, but it got away from me.”

  “How long was I out?”

  “A little over two days. I guess you caught a fever after that last fight, but you look like you’re healing nicely now.”

  James nodded. A fever. That would explain what the fucking hell he’d been thinking last night when he’d found Miles in the woods pleasuring himself and he’d decided to do something about it.


  God, he was never going to live this shame down. What the hell was Miles doing out there anyway?

  No, he couldn’t think like that. It didn’t matter why Miles had been doing what he was doing. It wasn’t a crime to masturbate, and he’d clearly tried to find privacy to do it.

  Until James stepped in and…he couldn’t even think the word.

  James piked the meat along the stick then put it over the fire. He handed the stick over to Miles. “Keep turning it periodically so it won’t burn.

  Miles nodded. “Yes.”

  James stood. “I should catch some more meat for you. You’re an omega, but that won’t be enough.”

  “This is for you, though.”

  James looked down at the man and the small offering.

  James knew how much even that little bit of meat could mean, coming from someone who had already given so much.

  James felt the clench in his stomach from his hunger as well as his shame, but Miles had been the one caring for him for two days. James was his kidnapper, and at any time, Miles could have left him to die. Could have left him to bleed out, for the wild animals to come and find him, and there wasn’t a damned person on the planet who would have blamed him for that.

  And James repaid that kindness by raping him.

  Of all the people in the world he’d been forced to kill, of all the times he’d seen friends and loved ones die, this, this was by far the worst thing in the world he’d ever experienced.

  Despite his job, the things he’d been forced to do, there was always that little thing in the back of his mind that comforted him by saying again and again that at least he’d been forced to do those things. There had never been much of a choice. He was still better than his masters.

  Not anymore. He was just as bad as they were.

  “You need to eat,” James said. “I will find more food for you, and I will only eat then.”

  “But you haven’t eaten since you got sick,” Miles argued. “I didn’t know how to feed you without choking you, so there was nothing you could have.”

  That explained the hunger pains.

  “It’s nothing I haven’t experienced before. Turn your squirrel. It’ll burn.”

  Miles quickly did as he was told.

  “I’ll come right back.” James left, quickly. He couldn’t be in that room with the omega anymore. Even the scent of cooking meat wasn’t enough to mask the scent of Miles, of how good he smelled, how that scent called to James on such a primal level.

  He wanted to slide his tongue all over Miles’s skin, wanted to push his cock inside the man again and find out if he was as tight as James’s fever addled brain remembered. To see if the sounds of his moaning would bring out that wild, inner animal James had never before let off leash.

  He was disgusting. He had to get out of there. He couldn’t breathe.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Stay there! I’ll come right back!”

  James never made a habit of fleeing from a battle unless he absolutely had to.

  For the first time in his life, he ran away from a helpless omega as if his life depended on it.

  Chapter Four

  James was lucky he was a decent tracker. He was able to find something large that would feed both himself and his omega for days to come if he could find a way to preserve the carcass.

  Wait, his? No, he didn’t just think that.

  Fuck, he had to stop. He couldn’t afford to let his thoughts and mind become so scrambled over one simple omega. This was ridiculous!

  James focused on making the kill. A doe. Usually the rule would have been to leave the kill behind, but he didn’t want anything overly large to carry back to the shack either, and knowing there was no proper way to preserve the majority of the meat, it would have been a shame to go after a larger kill and let the rest go to waste.

  He hauled the animal over his neck and shoulders when he finished making his kill. A good, clean kill, just what he was used to, just what he could use to get his head back in the game.

  He’d been gone for only an hour. He hoped Miles would still be there when he got back, though he wouldn’t be shocked if the fox decided to make a run for it.

  He was going to have to ask the man what had prompted him to stay. It was foolish, in reality. He should have left James to die.

  James would have done it to anyone else he’d been forced to work with, and those would be people who weren’t necessarily his enemies…

  James stopped short, a familiar scent rushing through his nose, and he dropped the doe he’d been carrying and began to run.

  He kept his footsteps silent, his body whispering through the trees, barely making contact with the reaching branches. He was a ghost as he ran as quickly as he could back to the shack where he’d left Miles.

  Alone. For an entire hour.

  Stupid. So stupid.

  He stayed down low, slowing his pace the closer he got to the shack, and when he was there, hiding away in the bushes that overlooked the pathetic shelter, his vision blurred with blood red.

  They were there. Zed hadn’t been killed when James fought the snake faced mother fucker off, and he had a new set of groupies, a few new men, ones James would kill if he had to.

  The shack was on fire. The blaze burned too hot and high for that to come naturally from the little campfire Miles had been taking such good care of.

  James smelled fuel in the air, and he swore he was going to kill those sons of bitches.

  Zed reached down, grabbing Miles by the collar of his shirt. Miles’s hands were bound behind his back with a zip tie.

  He was completely and totally helpless to anything these idiots wanted to do to him, and James could not let that stand.

  “Just tell us where he is. Stop lying. We can smell him all over you,” Zed said, letting the claw on his index finger slide across Miles’s cheek threateningly.

  James wasn’t sure if they intended to return Miles to Varrick on their own to collect the reward for him, but he no longer cared.

  How fucking dare they threaten him?

  Miles didn’t speak. At first James thought he was attempting to be foolishly brave, but no, he heard the soft stammering in Miles’s voice and on his lips. He couldn’t seem to get out any of the words he searched for. His entire body was racked with trembles, and his fox tail curled up right between his legs.

  Zed spat then threw Miles down onto the ground.

  “Never would have thought James would be stupid enough to fuck Varrick’s toy.”

  “Will Varrick know the difference?” asked one of his lackeys, someone young. Young could also mean stupid. James had to watch out for that one.

  “Hard to say,” Varrick said, rubbing his chin. “You tried to wash him off you, didn’t you? When did he do it? Last night? Two nights ago?”

  James was going to kill him. He searched for a place where he could make his move. The fire from the shack was starting to catch on the dry branches of the trees around.

  It wouldn’t be long before it would be too late to get out of here. There were trees, plants, and shrubs alive with moisture, but the birch trees and dry, dead trees that had either fallen over, or were still standing, would be worse than the fuel Zed had used to light the shack on fire.

  Zed hardly seemed to notice the danger he was putting himself in here as well. James had to find an easy spot to take them out or distract them so he could grab his mate and bring him to the stream.

  A small body of moving water would lead to something thicker and larger, something he could use to shelter himself and Miles so they could escape.

  “Does this mean we can use him, too?”

  Zed looked at the younger man with him.

  Yeah, stupid.

  “Sure, go for it, but then I’ll have to tell Varrick that you stuck your dick into his favorite toy. You can find out if he’s happy with you then.”

  The younger man ducked his head, a flush creeping up his neck and settling into his face. “N
ot if you’re going to tell on me, and James’s scent would still be there. We could just say it’s still his.”

  “God, you’re stupid. How did you stay alive for so long?” Zed pulled Miles into his arms. “We should get out of here. I’m not liking the looks of that fire.”

  “You used too much fuel!” shouted one of the lackeys.

  The horny bastard who’d openly talked about raping Miles growled. “You didn’t exactly stop me.”

  That guy was James’s first target. He’d be easy to take out, and then James could focus on Zed. The third man might get scared off if he had to face the idea of taking James out on his own.

  That was the only thing James could hope for as he let his fur come out along his body, his scales coating his hands and spine, and his claws appearing as he rushed through the trees.

  He didn’t release a war cry. He wouldn’t dare give these men the heads-up that he was coming.

  He slashed the throat of the horny-toed first then rushed at idiot number 2.

  “Fuck!” Zed screamed, and then he turned and made a run for it through the trees, dragging Miles with him.

  Fucking coward!

  Miles cried out for him. “James!”

  He was coming! He ignored the second man, chasing after his prey, Zed.

  James didn’t focus on stealth and silence this time. His only concern was getting to Miles, saving him before Zed could take him too far away.

  No, he had Miles’s scent. He could smell the man, and he locked in on it. Zed was out of sight thanks to the many trees around him that blocked James’s view, but James could still smell the omega. His omega. He wouldn’t let Zed do a damned thing to him, and he wasn’t giving him to Varrick!

  James did roar this time. He couldn’t contain it. He opened his mouth and released a noise that would let Zed know everything James planned on doing the second he got his hands on that bastard!

  Miles screamed out for him, as if he was calling back to James. Good. That was good. Now James had smell as well as hearing to work with. He didn’t have to wonder if he was going in the right direction to get back to him.

  He started to close in. Through the haze of green and the smell of fire and burning wood, James started to catch sight of Zed’s body up ahead and the orange and black tail of Miles.