Jacks, Marcy - Eli's Reluctant Mate [DeWitt's Pack 5] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) by Marcy Jacks (fiction novels to read .txt) 📕

back into a bleeding  human arm, but right before the black completely took over his  vision, a pair of sneakered feet, crunching on the rocks and dirt on the  pavement, came into his line of sight.

* * * *

Chris ran when that guy trying to take his pants off finally jumped off of him and transformed―transformed!―into an enormous wolf,

Eli’s Reluctant Mate                       19

and then started attacking that other huge wolf that was ripping the  living hell out of their other attacker. Chris didn’t catch sight of that  man, the big, handsome, if extremely drunk man  who he’d been  trying to help get home.

He couldn’t just run down the street, though. What he saw, people  changing into animals, was the most amazing, most frightening thing,  he’d ever seen.

Chris ran to the nearest set of shrubs he could find and got behind

them.

It was like watching a dog fight, and Chris had seen YouTube videos on animal sites for preventing abuse, so he knew what it looked like.

For a few seconds, it was hard for him to tell the difference

between the two gray wolves rolling around, biting and clawing and  snarling at each other, until the one wolf nearly had his nose chopped  off and turned back into that fucking prick who had been pawing at  Chris.

He couldn’t help but watch as the guy handled his severely bleeding face and think, Good. Chris had zero sympathy for the guy.

He and the other man, whom Chris could only assume was also a werewolf, ran off together after having their asses handed to them.  Chris was amazed they could walk at all. The blood loss alone should have been enough to put them down.

Then the only wolf left behind just keeled over. Chris worried that he’d died until he saw the hair slowly shed away, leaving only pink human skin behind, and that man, the one Chris had been trying to help, appeared in the wolf’s place.

He got out from his hiding place to go and make sure he was okay.

He definitely wasn’t. The man’s eyes were bleary and barely open, and he groaned in what was definite pain and confusion. There was a long slash mark that bled freely down his face. It began at the right side of his forehead before ending on his left cheek. There were

20                          Marcy Jacks

also several huge puncture marks along his arm, and they were  bleeding even more than that.

Chris couldn’t leave him here. It may or may not have been  intended, but this man had saved Chris from rape at the least and

death at worst.

He lifted his T-shirt off of his shoulders and wrapped the thin material around the man’s arms. Hopefully that would stanch the blood flow. There wasn’t much he could do about his face, not until

Chris took him back to his room.

Somehow he doubted that there were hospitals for people like this, and he put his hands under the man’s armpits, and using all of his strength, Chris hauled him to his feet.

“Don’t die on me.”

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Chapter Three

Getting that man back to the motel room Chris had rented had been absolute hell. If Chris thought the guy weighed a lot back when he was still carrying himself―barely―on his own two feet, it was nothing compared to how heavy he was when completely unconscious.

That, and it was the middle of the day, and Chris didn’t want anyone to catch him dragging a naked man around. The locals probably wouldn’t look too kindly on that.

He had to drag this guy through the bushes and trees, keeping off the roads and any trail that looked like a person might walk on.

He was sweating clear through his clothes by the time he returned to the motel. He already had his key, and the parking lot wasn’t exactly a ghost town, but there was only one other truck there apart from his own shitty vehicle. He had to risk it.

Chris wiped his brow free of the building moisture, bent over to grab his heavy load, and dragged him across the lot as quickly as he could.

Please don’t let anyone see me. Please don’t let anyone see me.

He had his key out, in the lock, struggled with it for a few too many seconds that nearly gave him a heart attack, and then was finally inside.

He dropped his two-hundred-pound cargo with a loud bang against the carpet, and Chris was too busy wheezing for breath to do anything about it as he slid down the door. He wasn’t much sure he cared at this point either.

No. He did care. Otherwise he wouldn’t have taken a complete

22                          Marcy Jacks

stranger with abnormal powers back to his motel room. The safest  thing would have been to have left the guy on the side of the road.

The trickle of blood pooling on his carpet, and Chris’s bloody  neck and shoulder from where the guy’s cut-up face had rested, made  him ashamed for even thinking such things.

First things first if Chris was going to have the energy to nurse  this guy back to health.

He ran into the tiny adjoining bathroom, grabbed one of the  stained towels, wet it, and started scrubbing his neck and shoulders,  removing the blood. The cold water felt so good on his hot skin that  he decided fuck it and turned on the cold water tap from the shower  and got under the icy spray, not bothering  with taking off his pants  and barely taking the time to kick off his shoes.

He only allowed himself ten seconds in there, if that, letting the  water rush over him, cooling off his body, and rinsing out his mouth.  At least now he wouldn’t pass out from heat exhaustion.

He jumped out, dried off as best he could, and then went to see to  his patient.

Christ, this guy had seen better days, and he was going to have a  couple of nasty-ass scars after all his wounds healed several months  down the line.

He found the  first aid kit, took the blankets and sheets off the bed,

and heaved the