Jacks, Marcy - Eli's Reluctant Mate [DeWitt's Pack 5] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) (14 page)

hold on just long enough to make it there.

* * * *

Eli could hear the growls and howls of the wild werewolves as

Nick, Adam, and Andrew hunted them down.

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But there were far too many of them for just three alpha wolves to take down on their own. There were also the wolves that stayed away from the fighting, the ones who peeked their heads out through the shrub to watch as Eli ran as quickly as he could with Chris’s limp body bleeding profusely in his arms.

Maybe they didn’t attack because James was currently in his wolf form, running beside Eli and growling at any wolf who got too close, and then there was Isaac, who pointed his Glock and let off a random shot into the bushes to scare any wolf away from coming too close.

Maybe they just felt guilty that it was their attack that caused  Chris to be in this condition to begin with. That other wolf had certainly fled quickly after he’d seen what he’d done.

The pond, normally seeming only right in their back yard, was suddenly a thousand miles away, and as  Chris grew paler, Eli became more panicked.

He shook the other man when his head lolled and eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“Chris!”

We’re here,
 
James said, using the inner voice that all alphas could use on their pack members.

Eli looked up. It was as if he’d stumbled into paradise. Adam,  Nick, and Andrew were already there. Some blood matted their fur from the attacks of the other wolves, but they stood strong, their hackles raised up high and lips pulled back, snarling at any wolf who dared to come  within their circle.

There were so many werewolves. What had Deacon been doing?  Putting them through an assembly line?

Eli ran for the clear water and jumped in. The pond wasn’t immediately deep, so he was forced to splash around some as he went further and further in, until the cool liquid completely covered Chris’s body and his own.

Chris’s heartbeat became small and frail as a newborn bird’s. For

one heart-shattering second, he feared that it had stopped completely,

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before he heard it one more time.

Come on, baby
,
 
you’re here. You’re going to be okay.
 
Eli pushed them up for air and took in a deep breath when they broke the surface.  He only left their heads above the water. Everything else was to remain below.

Nicked bowels. That meant that all the waste from Chris’s body was pouring into his wound, his veins, down his legs, everywhere. It was poisoning him from the inside. But this water had cleansing powers. They didn’t know where it came from, but this water was pure somehow, it would clean out Chris’s wound and heal him.

They tried bringing Eric here. Eric and the other alphas who’d died that day. They had hoped that the same powers that had brought  Deacon back from the dead would do the same for them, but it hadn’t

worked.

This was different. Eric and the others had been dead for several

minutes before they’d gotten them to the pond. Chris’s heart was still  beating when Eli jumped into the clear pool with him. He was going  to live. He was!

Eli looked behind himself to see James and the others all staring at him, waiting for the verdict. The shocking thing was the way the wild werewolves did the same. There were so many of them. Dozens. If they wanted to, they could ambush the lot of them and take this land for their own, but they stood still, eyes glowing as they stood, staring.  The fighting had stopped in favor of seeing to the safety of the man with multicolored eyes.

Eli looked back down at his lover. Chris’s face remained pale, but his body was growing cold.

That was just because of the cool water lowering the temperature of his body, Eli told himself. He put his hand over Chris’s chest, to assure himself that the other man’s heart was beating.

He felt nothing.

The water around them had become stained with red, and Eli

didn’t take his hand away, still searching for that elusive beating.

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It was there. It had to be there.
 
Come on, baby, I know you’re still

alive. You’re not dead.

One of the wolves behind him howled, and a human hand touched

Eli’s shoulder.

He jerked away. It was James. He’d entered the water to come and get him.

“He’s gone. I’m sorry, Eli, but he’s gone.”

“He is not dead!” Eli shrieked, shaking Chris in his arms. “Come on, baby. Open your eyes. You’re okay. I know you are. Wake up!”

James didn’t touch him again, and no one else entered the  water to come and get him. More wolves howled, and Eli broke down sobbing.

His mate, his mate that he was supposed to protect was dead, and it was entirely his fault.

He stood in the water for what seemed like several minutes before

he finally got his sobbing under control. Eli pressed his face into  Chris’s hair, and then he released Chris’s body, letting the water take  him until he disappeared within the red haze that had bloomed in the  pond.

Romulus and Remus take you
.

He wanted nothing better than to let himself sink under with  Chris, let himself drown, because his mind and body were both ready  to give up. He wouldn’t struggle for air, and if he did, he had the  strength to fight his body’s need for oxygen. It wasn’t like there were  many people that would  mourn him.

In one strange moment, the epiphany hit him. Eli had nothing to  live for. His brother, his only family, was gone, and his mate was just  taken from him, right before his eyes, and not even the healing power  of the pond would bring him back.

What  had he done? What horrible thing had Eli done that he was  to be punished like this?

He let go of the thought of drowning himself. James would never  let him do it anyway. Instead, Eli turned around and waded out of the  pool of water. It was bloody again, just like it had been the first time

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Deacon had been thrown in. The water would clean itself. It always did.

Some of the blood stayed on Eli’s skin when he finally emerged

from the water.

Isaac stepped forward. He looked like he was about to say something until Eli glared at him. He didn’t want any sympathetic words from anyone.

One of the transformed werewolves stepped forward. A large brown wolf, with shame in its eyes and bloodied ears.

His head was down, and tail between his legs. Eli snarled as he

recognized the reason for all of his pain.

“You…you killed him!” Eli charged forth, ready to bash his fist  into the skull of the werewolf, who stood in place. He cowered but  didn’t move away, as though awaiting punishment for killing a man  of lycan legend.

Eli had every intention of beating the wolf’s skull in and not  stopping until he was either dead or that hairy body was twitching on  the ground.

Even that satisfaction couldn’t be his. The other wild werewolves

beat Eli to it, and they all jumped on top of the  injured wolf in a

massive ball of teeth and fur and claws.

The werewolf whined and cried, attempting to defend himself for only a minute before the body stilled, but the other wolves continued their attack.

Blood and ripped flesh flew about as the wild wolves feasted on their former ally. Eli watched, aware that he should be sickened by the carnage, but he felt nothing but disappointment and loss.

His heart hurt.

“Come on,” James said, putting his arm around Eli’s shoulder. Eli

realized he was still naked when someone took their coat off and

handed it to him, but he shook his head. He didn’t want it.

“I’ll take you home,” James said.

Everyone walked with a slight hunch in their shoulders, and no

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one bothered looking back at the little massacre that was going on  behind them. With Chris gone, those wild wolves would have no  reason to attack DeWitt’s pack anymore. They would go their

separate ways.

Eli would go with James, but only to keep the others at ease. He

had no intention of staying.

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Chapter Twelve

He came up for air gasping. Choking and coughing, Chris floundered around in the water, searching for a solid surface to grab on to.

Eli!

Chris never grew up near a lake, or any source of water, and because of that he couldn’t swim. He didn’t like going into the water for just that reason. He was choking, dying. Drowning.

Eli, help me!

Something grabbed Chris by the back of the neck. It felt like sharp teeth, like those of the many werewolves Chris had seen since he first came to James’s pack. His heart lurched in panic, but the teeth didn’t bite down hard enough to rip his skin, only to pull him slightly out of the water so that he could breathe.

Try to, anyway. Water was still in his lungs, and Chris coughed and gasped, choking it up until he finally realized he was being dragged away.

Where was he?

He understood when his feet touched down on the smooth rocks

and soft sand beneath the water. Chris was being taken back to dry

land.

He was promptly dropped onto his chest in the grass, and the scent

of it filled his nose.

He felt like he was coming out of an ocean rather than a medium-sized pond, and he wanted to kiss the sweet-smelling grass.

Dry land.
 
Thank you, God.

Chris turned over. His vision was blurry from being under the

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water, but he could still make  out the massive shadow above him. It

was definitely in the shape of a wolf. He could tell by the way the ears

pointed. He reached out to touch it.

“Eli?”

The shadow promptly vanished, and Chris’s vision cleared. He blinked several times up at the orange sky. The sun was beginning to

set.

Then he smelled something other than grass. He smelled blood.  Lots and lots of blood. The scent was so strong it was nearly overpowering. Chris had never smelled anything like it.

He rolled over and saw the source, and he nearly puked.

In the middle of the grass was carnage. Absolute frickin’ carnage.  It looked like someone had improperly skinned an animal alive. Strips of fur and hair lay everywhere, and blood and all sorts of pieces Chris couldn’t name were all that were left.

A black crow stood over the wreckage, eating what it had found, but there was no way the crow had been able to consume so much.  Chris knew that there should have been way more pieces of a body left behind.

His first horrified thought was that this was Eli, but then, no, the smell gave it away. Something about this, he didn’t quite know what it was, but there was something in the smell that told Chris that this was not Eli.

His mate was not here.

Chris’s insides shifted. He gasped in pain as everything  inside of his ribs seemed to relocate and light on fire.

His wound! He reached down to make sure that nothing had spilled out of him, but there was no longer a gaping hole in his body.  The three slashes had been replaced with stinging scratches that hurt

to touch, but when he pulled his hand back there wasn’t even any  blood. It was like he’d been scratched by a cat and not a wild  werewolf.

Something inside his body cracked, and Chris cried out, falling

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onto his sides in pain. What was happening to him?

Something itched on his hands, and when he looked, he saw all  the hair growing from the pores of his skin at a speed that should have  been impossible. His eyesight changed. Suddenly he could see all the  tiny ants working to collect the bits of meat from the dead werewolf  and bring it back to their colony. The smells he picked up before  intensified. Not only could he smell the blood in the air, but also the  sweat of the men who had been here before, who left very much alive  only a few hours ago.

Then Chris knew  no more as everything changed, giving over to  the animal side of him that fought so hard to come out. He threw his  head back and screamed, but it came out as a long howl.

* * * *

Eli had gone back to his cottage but then recalled the scene that would be  awaiting him in his bedroom and stopped.