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They also had another two and a half hours of traveling ahead of them, at best.

At least they were far enough away that those hunters wouldn’t catch up to them when they woke up to find the tracks.

* * * *

Tatum followed those tracks all the way back to that house they’d been at the day before. It was difficult to identify tracks that wind and snow had mostly erased, but the fact that they went right up the porch to the cabin, and all the way to the door, was a concern.

Anthony rode in from another path. “Storm found signs of an animal coming in from this direction, too.”

86                          Marcy Jacks

Could these people have owned dogs? He hadn’t seen any, but he didn’t want to rule it out just yet.

He got up from his seat, leaving Chance alone on Ski-Doo, waiting for him, and walked toward the door. He would knock and ask if the owner had seen any wolves around.

Just in case. If it had been dogs, and Storm was wrong, then it would be logical that the dogs had caught the scent of one of these idiots and followed them back to camp.

He stopped when he made it to the door. The sun was barely peeking up over the horizon, but there was more than enough light for him to see the way the door frame was splintered by the handle.

“What is it, Tatum?” Chance called.

Tatum pushed against the door. It took only a little effort, but it came open after the ice broke away.

Not locked, and the handle was busted. Those men hadn’t

belonged here after all.

He turned around and started back toward the Ski-Doo. “You

were right, Storm. Wolves, and they knew we were coming.”

He looked down at the tracks, searching for where those wolves  could have headed. Likely back to the neighboring pack that he’d  attacked in the fall, but which direction had they gone in? And would  he be able to catch them before they got back? He certainly didn’t  have the manpower he did back then, and he and those other men had  had their asses kicked.

He rode along, following the tracks back from whence they came,  Anthony and Storm riding right behind him.

“Did they come this way?” Chance asked.

“Maybe.”

Then he saw it, the way the snow scraped and swished in an odd way compared to the rest of the untouched snow, just off to the side of the tracks and right into the trees.

It was classic, right out of that Disney movie with the Dalmatians.  The wolves had tried to cover their tracks by keeping to the trail

Mated to the Wild Omega                     87

they’d already made, and then they’d jumped into the trees before  making their run for it.

He doubted they would be able to sweep their tracks away with  the branch of a pine, however.

“They went this way!” he yelled, signaling for Anthony to follow  him. He found a new, smaller path around the trees, and then they  found the much fresher tracks again. They were in business. The  tracks were messy from all the snow hindering them, but they were so  fresh that he and Storm were able to look down at them and tell that

they belonged to large wolves. Werewolves.

Anthony shouted in excitement, revving his Ski-Doo, and the four

of them sped off to catch their prize.

* * * *

They were another two hours away from the pack when Morgan jolted to a stop. He perked his ears, hearing what sounded like a giant bee, coming in from far away.

He looked behind himself. Nick was on alert as well, facing the direction the noise came from, every muscle in his body tense. Terry whined, his chest constricting as his wolf cried.

Nick yipped and skittered ahead of Morgan. He stopped, and then he jumped forward once more.

The wolf signal to run. Got it.

Morgan went through the snow and clamped his teeth around  Terry’s neck, shaking the omega and forcing him to be calm. They couldn’t run, but they jumped over the snow will all the eager desperation they had used when they first started this morning.

The buzzing sound grew louder. An engine. Next Morgan heard the obnoxious laughing that came from the hunters riding them.

Fuck. They had fucking Ski-Doos.

They wouldn’t be able to outrun them.

Morgan quickly shifted back onto two legs. “Nick! Come back!”

88                          Marcy Jacks

Nick was still ahead of them, but he was making sure to stay close. He turned at the sound of Morgan’s voice and headed back.

Terry sat at Morgan’s feet, his head still looking back in the distance at where the noise was coming from.

They had maybe two minutes before those hunters came into view.

“Okay, listen to me,” Morgan said when Nick was close enough to  touch. “Take Terry back to the pack, I’ll head them off and distract  them.”

Nick growled.

Morgan was not a leading alpha, but in this situation, he needed to be. He grabbed Nick by the scruff and forced him down onto his side with more force than he intended. He leaned in close, making sure the other were heard him.

“Terry doesn’t know the way and needs one of us to show him.  Get the cavalry and follow my scent back to wherever it is they take  me. I’ll try and stay alive till then.”

He let Nick get back onto four legs. “Do you understand?”

Nick snorted but nodded. His jaws opened as he grabbed Terry’s  around the neck and began pulling him away.

Terry resisted, crying that dog cry that put a lance through  Morgan’s heart as he lay down on his belly, staring up at Morgan. He  didn’t understand what was happening. The wolf was in control, and  it wanted to stay with Morgan.

The noise of the engine got to be louder. Morgan didn’t have time  for this, not if they were going to get away safely.

He slapped Terry on the rump, hard. Terry yipped and jumped,  slowly moving along with Nick but still looking back at him.

Morgan