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those people are outside,  they need to be dealt with. I don't believe they’re trying to come in  here, not if they think the house is occupied.”

“But―”

“Don’t worry,” Morgan said, his hand coming on top of Terry’s  head and then sliding down his neck. It felt like Morgan was petting  him. He liked it. “If anything happens, I promise I’ll come back up for  you right away.”

“They’re hunters,” Terry said, fighting against the feeling inside

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of him that was attempting to calm him.

Morgan looked away and nodded, as though he didn’t like  admitting to it. “They might be, yes, but they might also just be  normal hunters, out trying to catch a buck or something. We have  nothing to worry about.”

There was nothing else Terry could do or say to make the other  man stay with him. Despite Morgan’s gentle command for Terry to  get back under the covers of the bed, he wouldn’t do it. Instead, he  went to the window.

Whereas before he would have thought it was cold in here, now that his body was coming back to a regular temperature, he was comfortable.

The storm was still pretty bad outside, and he didn’t dare crack open the window, but it wasn’t nearly the white out it had been before. Terry could see that there were at least three men out there, shotguns in hand, bundled up against the cold with their orange vests and leather mitts with fur trim, hats, boots, the whole deal.

He was partly shocked that he could remember what those items were even called. There had been more than one occasion when he

ran and hunted by himself that no human thought passed through his  head at all. Everything had been instinct. All Terry had wanted to do  was eat and survive. Now, it was like the more human aspect to his  brain was starting to work again, and all because Morgan had spoken  to him and bathed him.

Maybe a hot bath, calm conversation, and good sex were some of the key ingredients that made up a human. Either way, his eyes narrowed at the sight of them.

They looked exactly like the hunters Terry had been running from, but all hunters looked the same, even the ones who hunted regular animals as opposed to werewolves and vampires.

They whispered amongst each other, and Terry couldn’t make out what they were saying, but then the back door opened and that other werewolf stepped outside and called to them.

Mated to the Wild Omega                     47

This time, Terry could hear him. That probably had more to do with the volume the other man spoke with, though. “You folks all right?”

The hunters looked amongst each other. “Fine,” said the man in the middle, apparently taking the lead. “Just out on a hunting trip.”

The other werewolf, the friend of Morgan’s, must have found something to wear in one of the rooms, or maybe it was just a spare snowsuit and boots. Either way, he kept on talking with those men as though it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Bad weather for that sort of thing, isn’t it?” he asked.

“We’re good,” said the leader, nodding to him. “Sorry to have bothered you, sir. Didn’t know anyone was home.”

“That’s all right. We just got here today. You all be careful now out in this weather. It’s dangerous, and you don’t want to be getting lost.”

The hunters nodded, turned, and walked away.

The other werewolf seemed to watch them from the porch for a long while, even after the hunters vanished into the whiteout, before he turned to come back into the house.

From his place upstairs, Terry heard the murmuring voices of  Morgan and his other werewolf friend.

“Think they bought it?”

“Have to assume so, but I got a weird vibe from one of those men right before they turned to leave.”

“Shit,” Morgan said.

“I know. We might have to make a break for it and risk the storm sooner than we thought.”

Terry hoped that they would. He didn’t want to be caught by any other alpha werewolves, or hunters, ever again.

* * * *

“What do you think, Tony?” Chance asked. He was the youngest

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in their group, and the easiest to scare, as noted by the way he gripped  his shotgun. His leather mitts dangled by long strings of yarn from the  sleeves of his winter coat, like he was some sort of four-year-old.

Tony scratched his chin. “Hard to say. Didn’t see a car or truck for  that one guy to get here in, but that could’ve been in the garage and  all this snowfall could’ve covered the tracks. I think we should still

tell Tatum about it. I think he was right. People around here are  strange.”

“Yeah, and did you see that guy’s eyes? They were all blank and  shit. Creeps me out.”

“You think they’re werewolves?” Storm asked.

Tony had once before asked Storm what his real name was since  no one outside of Hollywood would ever give their only son a name  like that. Storm had growled at him, the one eye that was not covered  with a black pirate-looking eye patch glaring, and Tony had dropped  it completely.

“Might be, but I never heard about any werewolves living in this  area, only that the wild ones were sometimes seen here, but yeah, we  should go and let Tatum know the place is occupied. That guy said  there were others in that house, and we didn’t get a look at them.”

“And he seemed a little too calm considering we were on his  property with these in our hands,” Chance said, holding out the  shotgun he held, as though Tony could’ve missed it.

Kid was going to end up shooting himself before this mission was  over, he just knew it.

“Right. Let’s move on out. I’m freezing my dick off, here,” Tony  said, looking over at Storm when the words left his mouth. He had a  good idea of how he wanted to warm up that part of his anatomy. He  hoped the other man had