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“
You?
” Morgan looked over. Chance, the youngest of the four  hunters, was staring at Storm with wide, betrayed eyes.

“Sorry, kid,” Storm said, then turned to James. “I would  appreciate it if you didn’t kill him either. He’s young and not very  bright.”

“He’s a hunter, and with those scratches on his back, he’s infected

with werewolf venom as well.”

“Then make him part of your pack,” Storm pleaded. “There’s  been enough killing already.”

“Why were you even here? Why help hunters?” Morgan asked.  He’d been dying to know ever since scenting that Storm wasn’t  exactly human. He wasn’t just a nonhuman. He was a shifter, the  same as everyone else in Morgan’s pack.

Storm looked away from him and shook his head. “A werewolf  wouldn’t understand. Are you sure Tony is dead?”

“I killed him myself,” John said, stepping forward again.

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For the first time, now that he wasn’t staring right at James, Storm seemed to finally take note of the younger man.

His one eye widened, moving up and down John’s body, and he stepped back.

“If you really did help Nick and Terry get away, then we’re in your debt. Two for two. Yours and his,” James said, motioning with a jerk of his head back at Chance. “Though I can’t promise his stay with us will be exactly pleasant, considering the things he has to look forward to.”

First transformations were a bitch like that.

“Come with us,” John said. He and Storm were still locking eyes

in a way that was starting to make Morgan suspicious.

Storm shook his head, and in the most fluid transformation

Morgan had ever seen, he shifted into the form of a cougar, shrugged out of his clothing, and then darted off. No one bothered to chase him down, though John looked like he wanted to.

Poor kid.

“That was different,” James said, and then he turned and looked at

Morgan, his eyes staring particularly at his busted nose. “You look like shit. Let’s get that seen to before it heals incorrectly.”

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Chapter Thirteen

Terry could tell that Morgan was angry with him for going along with the alphas, but he refused to be cowed by it.

James’s first answer to Terry’s demand had been a flat no, and even though Terry was now a part of this pack, he was still wild enough to be able to disobey a little. So he’d followed the alphas when they set out.

Because of the hurry they were in, they’d grudgingly allowed it, so long as he didn’t get in the way of what they were doing.

Terry had told Morgan this, but the other man had stubbornly insisted on staying a little angry with his alpha.

He’d get over it eventually.

His inner wolf, angry and wild as it was, had been a constant growling presence inside his mind, demanding that he go and take back what was his. When the first hunter had been killed, and the second injured, he saw his opportunity to help.

They sent back the injured hunter, with Terry―being controlled mostly by his angry wolf―nipping at his heels.

The distraction had worked, and now Morgan was safe at home.

One wouldn’t have known that considering the way the other man whined and yelled when the pack’s wise woman, an elderly lady with a huge hump in her back, had to come and set his broken nose for him and then pulled out some needles to give him, too.

Terry had added it to the list he was making in his head. The list of things Morgan liked, didn’t like, all that stuff.

Needles were on the top-five list of things he did not like and had to be forced to deal with. Hunters were at number one.

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“Favorite color,” Morgan said, his voice still nasally. It sounded  like he had a cold, but that was only because of how the bandages  were still in place. The break hadn’t healed enough for them to be  removed yet.

“Red,” Terry answered, nudging Morgan with his foot. “Yours?”

They were lying in Morgan’s bed in the cabin he shared with  some of the other alphas. Morgan had pretty much been given a few  days off from doing his chores and guarding the pack. Time for him  to heal and to bond with his mate, James had said.

It had also been something of a gift to Terry. Every minute he didn’t spend with his mate, he spent with the members of his former pack who had been rescued from the hunters and were now living here.

The baby, Sammy, Phillip’s child, was one such person Terry had been most happy to see. Spending time with them also helped to center his inner wolf. It calmed him, knowing that there were still those who were safe.

Even Nick, the blind werewolf, was formerly a part of Phillip’s pack, and that was a fact that he hadn’t even remembered until recently now that more and more of his memories were returning.

Nick had always been something of a loner, being blind and all, so he wasn’t shocked that the man hadn’t recognized him. When Terry had confirmed it to him that they were former pack mates, even if they were pack mates who never hung out together, he could still recall the pleasure he’d felt at the smile that had formed on the other were’s face before they’d hugged each other.

Morgan had to think about it. “Black.”

“That’s not a color!”

“Yes, it is.”

“Black is a shade,” Terry insisted.

“A shade of color,” Morgan said with a grin.

Terry looked at him.

“All right, all right. I know it’s not a color. But I like it best. It

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goes with everything,” Morgan said.

Terry filed that away as Morgan liked every color.

“Favorite movie?” Terry asked.

This time the answer was instant. “The
 
Friday the 13th
 
series.

Except the one where he goes into space.”

Terry laughed at the way Morgan muttered the last part, as though it had put a bad taste in his mouth.

“And you?”

“Uh.” Here was where Terry got a little embarrassed. “
The Wolf  Man
.”

“The― !” Morgan sat up quickly and stared down at Terry with  something akin to horror. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I know, but I like those movies. The newer one was pretty cool,  too.”

“Those movies only pass around the idea that we’re dangerous

and can’t control ourselves.”

“Dracula movies do the same thing with vampires.”

“That’s because most vampires are pompous assholes who suck  the life out of everything.”

Terry raised his brows at his lover, and then he grinned. “You  think Ivan or Vlad will be happy to hear that?”

Terry had met the two vampires, and though he was somewhat  concerned for Ivan’s mental health, after he’d caught the vampire  apparently talking to himself, he still liked the both of them.

Later he’d found out that the talking to himself part was normal  for Ivan, who was apparently a medium and could speak to ghosts. It  only got stranger when Terry found out that Ivan was apparently  mated to the spirits of one of the alphas in this pack who’d died in  battle.

He tried not to let that weird him out too much whenever he found

himself hanging out with the man.

“I said most vampires,” Morgan grudgingly admitted. “The last

thing I need is for Andrew, or Ivan possessed by Eric, to come

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knocking on my door asking what the hell my problem is.”

“Favorite game?” Terry asked, continuing on with their questionand-answer session. They were both naked, but so far nothing had  happened between them as they lay in bed. They just snuggled  together, but with the way Terry felt Morgan’s fingertips tickling up  and down his ribs, moving as low as his hips sometimes, he knew  Morgan was thinking about it.

“Before, I would’ve mentioned all the Atari classics.”

“You would pick something like that,” Terry said, nudging him.  He’d finally gotten Morgan to admit his age, and apparently, today  was his birthday. Sixty years old. It was strange, considering he didn’t  look much older than Terry, really. Terry wanted to get him  something, but Morgan insisted that his life and Terry were all he  needed.

Terry was just going to have to get him a late birthday present when he got some money.

“If you grew up with
 
Pong
 
consoles, you would’ve thought
 
Space  Invaders
 
and
 
Donkey Kong
 
were amazing, too,” Morgan said.

Maybe Terry would see if he could find him an Atari.

“But as for a favorite game, right now I’m leaning toward that strange board game we were playing.”

Terry remembered it. “I swear it was like trying to put together a puzzle just to start the game.”

“We’re going to have to get our own copy of it, when we can remember what it was called.” Morgan’s hand was resting on his hip now, pulling Terry closer.

“How in control of your wolf do you feel right now?” Morgan asked.

Terry blushed as he recalled how he’d lost control the last time they were together and had bitten Morgan, left their shared room, and wandered right into a hunter camp.

He shifted his shoulders around, feeling nothing but peace within him.

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“I’m feeling pretty good right now. I have been since I went with  the alphas, to be honest.”

Morgan grumbled at that reply. Terry was going to have a hard  time convincing him to let that go. If anything, a wild omega was  almost as competent a hunter and killer as a trained alpha who had  full control.

Even Blasius, the alpha who seemed to think he was a Viking or something, agreed with him on that.

This pack was full of strange wolves, but they were keeping the weres who’d come here from Phillip’s pack alive, so Terry was grateful to them.

“I have one more question for you,” Terry said as Morgan pulled him onto his lap. Terry leaned in a little, allowing their dicks to touch.

“Yeah?” Morgan’s eyes were heavy now as he stared up at Terry with absolute wanting on his face. “You are so fucking gorgeous, you know that?”

Terry face went red hot. He was still getting used to being given all these compliments on his body.

“Thanks. Uh, you are, too, by the way.”

Morgan laughed out loud and continued to do so even when his nose started to pain him.

“Not right now I’m not,” Morgan said, clutching at his nose, and all the N-sounding words coming out with Ds in front of them.

Terry still wanted the other man so much. “Really, you are. You look like one of those guys who models for a calendar or something.  You’d be the one dressed as a construction worker or a fireman. You

have the body for it.”

“Had one of those calendars, did you?” Morgan asked with a grin.

Terry was never going to stop blushing. “Maybe.”

“Well, you have the body of a business exec.”

Terry looked at him strangely. “A business exec?”

“Someone who works out, great shape, narrow hips, but gorgeous  shoulders and pecs. You’re not way too big like I am. You’re

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perfect.”

“I’m pretty sure most businessmen don’t have the body you’re  describing,” Terry said, his cock becoming hard as Morgan slowly  started humping against him.

“No, but that’s what makes you so great.” Morgan was clearly  getting into it now, his grip on Terry’s hips tightening as he thrust  against the other man.

“What was it you were going to ask me?”

Terry shivered at one particular surge of pleasure that spread  through his lower body. “Ugh! I…I can’t remember.”

It had been something sexual related, at any rate, and since they  were already in the middle of having sex, he didn’t want to use the  brain power to try and remember whatever it had been.

“Wanna know something that I really like doing?”

Morgan’s breathing was coming out just as raspy as Terry’s now.  The temperature in the bedroom was slowly rising, and as  werewolves, they were both very aware of that.

“What?” Terry gasped.

He gasped again but more fearfully when Morgan sat up and  gently put Terry back on the bed. “What are you―”

He stopped himself when Morgan slid to his knees in front of  Terry, that evil grin on his mouth as he leaned in to Terry’s now  pulsing cock.

“Oh,” he said.

“Yeah, oh,” Morgan replied, taking Terry’s cock and balls into