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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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Marcy Jacks

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.

78

Marcy Jacks

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