Jacks, Marcy - Mason Returns to His Mate [DeWitt's Pack 8] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic Man by Marcy Jacks (english novels to improve english txt) 📕

Silver rings. The cheating bastard. Mason guessed that a hunter didn’t get to be that age by playing fair with his game.

He was going to get him for this, but the silver not only wounded him, it sapped his strength so completely and utterly that, by the time the tenth blow came down upon his face, he was so weak that he could barely lift his hands to deflect the attacks.

The hunter had full control of the weapon now, but he seemed more interested in teaching Mason a hard lesson.

The attack stopped, suddenly and without warning. His hair was grabbed into a hard fist, however, and his face lifted up so that the blur in his eyes cleared, and he could see the righteous gleam in the man’s eyes as he stared down at his beaten opponent.

“Gonna keep you alive, wolf. I’m gonna wait until your wolf comes out, and then I’m gonna skin you alive.”

He wasn’t done with that either. He had to announce his plans like an evil cartoon villain or something. “I saw the way you and that little

queer were holding hands. I’m gonna kill him in front of you. I’m

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gonna carve my son’s name into every inch of his skin and make him  ask for me to kill him. Think I’ll skin him, too, make a leather jacket  out of him or something.”

Mason growled, and that heavy  fist with the silver rings on it  came down on him again, and then a meaty finger was pointed at his

nose.

“Don’t you dare growl at―”

Fast footsteps shot through the shrubs to stand directly where both  Mason and the hunter were currently entangled. The hunter took his  eyes away from Mason for just a second before his head flew back,  blood and hair and bone and other things exploding out the side of his  head after the gunshot sounded.

Ouch, more pain in the ears. If Mason lived through this, he was  setting up a quiet room for himself and would never leave it.

He wondered about the man who’d saved him and had thought it  might be one of those cops before Derek’s face appeared before him.

Mason couldn’t believe it. Derek had really…

No, it did make sense. He remembered Derek taking a gun with  him from the pawn shop when he was escaping from the hunters. He  knew how to use the weapon and had foolishly come back for his

mate.

That didn’t stop Mason from wanting to kick his ass for being that stupid. He was supposed  to be hiding somewhere, not rushing to  Mason’s rescue. Even then, his alpha pride would take a long time to heal after he was the one who needed rescuing by his mate instead of being the protector he was supposed to be.

The worry and horror on Derek’s expression as he surveyed  Mason’s face didn’t help anything either.

“Jesus Christ, what did he do to you?” Derek asked, glaring down at the body of the man he’d killed then gently lifting Mason into his

arms.

Mason groaned, his entire body stiff and sore, even though he was

only taking shots to the face.

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Perfect. He had silver poisoning. If he remembered it right, Old  Maggie kept some antibiotics for that in her room. Not just her room, the whole main house was loaded with medical supplies.

It was nothing special, just basic alcohol, disinfectants, and swabs.  That was usually more than enough to fight off the infection brought on by silver.

There was just one problem, those were all in the main house, and to get there, he and Derek would somehow have to get through the gun fighting and mini werewolf war being waged on the front lawn.

It was better if he just didn’t tell Derek about it. The infection could take him, and if he died, so be it. He didn’t want to risk the life

of his mate any more than he needed to.

Derek’s hand on his forehead was cool to the touch. His gasp over  the temperature was clear and filled with concern.

Mason hadn’t thought he would be that warm.

“Jesus Christ, you’re burning up!” he said. His fingertips gently  touched down on the mash that  was Mason’s face, and then he

reached over to grab at something.

“These rings…Christ! Is this silver?”

Derek had a bad habit of cursing. Mason wasn’t exactly religious,  but considering their circumstances, it was best not to piss anyone  upstairs off.

Then  Derek spoke the words that had Mason as scared as all hell.

“Maggie, that wise woman who lives here, I heard she keeps  medicine for this kind of thing.”

No. No. No. Fucking no! Mason tried to tell Derek not to risk it,  that he was unlikely to even sneak through the trees to get to the  house without being spotted by someone or shot by a stray bullet.

You’re safe here. Don’t go.

They were mated, but Derek was not a werewolf, and so Mason’s  mental plea when unheard as Derek pulled his T-shirt over his head.

He gently wiped away some of the blood with it before folding it  up into a square and gingerly placing it under Mason’s head to use as

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a pillow.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said, kissing Mason’s hands since his face  was too fucked up for any man to put his lips  on. “I promise.”

If Mason had been able to move, he would have flipped out  shrieking as Derek ran away.

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Chapter Ten

Derek’s heart pounded as he ran through the trees, coming around full circle on the pack land.

As he did this, for the first time he realized how big the land was as he was soon out of breath. He hadn’t even made it halfway to the main house yet.

He hadn’t been doing his exercises for the last little while, ever since he’d come to this pack, really. Was that enough to account for his sudden lack of strength?

He shook his head, cursing himself for being so weak when his lover, his mate, was probably dying back there where Derek had found that man getting ready to