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“You keep carrying me around and I might get the wrong idea,”

he said.

“You’re right. I do care, and I don’t want you to die. Now keep your eyes peeled. I’m going to make a den for us.”

“Sounds romantic,” John said.

“Smart-ass. ”

Storm brought them a little ways into the woods where the trees were closer together. He wasn’t about to dig something underground or anything, but it was easy enough for him to grab onto some low-hanging pine branches and bend them down. He tied them in place with some of the longer, thinner, and more bendable sticks he’d pulled off as well. He had to strip away some other branches and carefully place them, but by the time he finished some ten minutes later, he had the rough shape of a hut.

Better than that, it was camouflaged as well. No one close up would be stupid enough to not see it, but from farther away it would offer some protection in case the hunters were still on their trail.

Storm placed John inside with their bag of supplies, and he pulled out all of their clothing, folding up the jeans to make a pillow and putting the T-shirts over his chest and legs so he had a blanket. He didn’t think a wolf would need things like that, but he didn’t want to Hunted and on the Run

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risk that John would be even a little cold, so he’d done it.

“Stay here,” Storm commanded. He turned to go, but John made a pained wolf whine.

“Don’t leave. ”

Storm looked down at him, and he saw the fear in those golden eyes.

It was oddly comforting to know that he was needed that much.

Storm bent down and placed a gentle kiss on John’s brow, and he stroked his ears. “I’ll come back with something to eat.”

Because he was still in his wolf form, Storm wouldn’t have to worry about starting a fire to cook whatever meat he caught, either.

He could just bring it back and let John take it.

“Just don’t run away, ” John said, and the weakness in his voice made everything inside of Storm lock up in fear.

“I can’t. Life-debt, remember?”

He’d said it only because it was the only excuse he had that John would believe right away. Also because he was starting to doubt if John could even remember that considering how weak his inner voice sounded.

He wouldn’t have left John there by himself anyway. Life-debt or no life-debt.

“Right,” John said, closing his eyes.

Storm made the shift back into his cougar form and exited the little hut he’d made.

It’s warm in there, and he’ll be safe while I’m gone. Storm tried to force some courage into himself so he could start hunting already.

The pull he felt to go back in there and lay with the other shifter was strong. It was as though he feared that taking his eyes off of John would make the wolf less safe, simply because Storm wouldn’t be here to see if any predators, human or otherwise, came around the area.

No, Storm shook the thought from his head, forcing himself to step farther and farther away from the den. John wasn’t safe if he was 84

Marcy Jacks

starved for the energy his body needed to heal and keep going, and neither was he.

Storm went out to hunt.

He liked to consider himself a proficient hunter, but today, when all he really wanted a quick meal, it seemed to take forever before he finally caught something.

The rabbit wasn’t enough to satisfy one starving wolf, let alone a near-starved cougar as well.

It had to be the water John had given him, Storm thought while clenching his teeth, and not for the first time. It shamed him to no end to know that John had had something that could practically perform miracles, that healed Storm’s wound and kept him up with enough energy to run and hunt even after everything he’d been through, and now there was none left for John when he needed it more than ever.

Wherever this pond was, Storm was going to make sure that John took several-hours-long bath in it once they returned to his pack land.

Within the hour he managed to catch two more hares, as well as a pheasant.

It was not a large catch, but it would put something in John’s belly.

He rushed back to the den he’d built, inwardly sighing with relief at the sight of John still sleeping peacefully within.

“Wake up! I’ve brought something,” Storm said, dropping his catch onto the ground.

He had to nudge John’s face with his nose before the wolf would move. “Wake up, I’ve brought you breakfast.”

The wolf’s eyes opened lazily. John looked down at the catch and weakly pulled himself closer to the meat.

Storm grabbed hold of one of the hares and set it down in front of John’s paws. Without any words, the wolf began to eat.

The pheasant was by far the smallest of the catch, so Storm ate that one. The feathers were unpleasant, but he wouldn’t dare complain.

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At first John consumed the meat slowly, ripping off small bits to chew, but as he got his energy back, he gradually ate faster and faster, even consuming most of the bones. Storm had to wonder whether he’d chewed the last rabbit at all. Or hare. He wasn’t sure what the difference was.

John looked at him. He still looked weak, and Storm doubted that such a small catch would be enough to fill him, but his eyes were more alert now, and that was all Storm cared about.

“Where’s yours?”

“Had mine,” Storm replied, attempting to dig a feather out of his teeth with his tongue.

Now that they were no longer eating raw meat, they both made the shift back into their human forms. Storm could have done it himself, but John insisted on being