Jacks, Marcy - Handcuffed to the Werewolf [DeWitt's Pack 3] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) (11 page)

Jason’s heart soared at the sound of Mick’s voice, but he could he

couldn’t see him from the position he was in.

Strangely enough, he could smell his scent. The scent he  recognized as strictly Mick’s from the time they spent chained  together and making love.

He could also smell the different scents of sweat belonging to at  least four other men, or was it five?

He also still couldn’t breathe.

Though the movement took up more of his oxygen, Jason struggled and kicked, desperate to get off of Deacon’s shoulder so  Mick could pull the gag out of his mouth.

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“Don’t any of you fucking move or I’ll throw him into the water.”

Throw me in! Throw me in! Jason inwardly screamed. At least  that way someone could dive in and grab him. He would breathe  again.

Around the edges of his vision, a dark shadow loomed, coming in,  taking over. He fought against it, knowing he didn’t want to give  himself over to it, but his entire body was on fire, burning with the  need for oxygen, for escape.

“I said don’t come any closer!” Deacon screamed.

“You throw him in there and you’re a dead man, Deacon!” Mick  screamed.

Despite his panic and burning lungs, Jason was strangely aware of the sound of a gun clicking. “He already is a dead man,” Isaac said.

Too late. The very thing that Jason had been fighting so hard against was upon him, and the darkness took him.

His entire body swelled, skin tingled and itched due to the lack of oxygen, and the sensation of falling came over him. Then Deacon’s bloodcurdling scream rocked the trees.

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Chapter Ten

Deacon stood no chance when Jason’s body swelled on top of his shoulder, sprouted fur, claws and teeth, tearing apart the binds that contained him, and then attacked.

Jason clearly had the element of surprise. Deacon had no idea

Jason had been about to do that. Neither did Mick.

Jason was definitely not a werewolf when they first met in that

pit—was it only this morning?—and he definitely hadn’t infected him  with any of the lycan venom in his teeth or claws when they ran  through the woods together.

Which could only mean that Deacon had been the one to do it.  Mick wanted to tear his throat out for that, for forcing that decision on  his mate, but Jason was doing a fine enough job of it on his own.

All the alphas just watched the show. There was no need for them  to jump in, and no one was in a great hurry to save Deacon from his  fate.

Nor did they want to get between him and Jason, who continued to bite and claw, to rip and shred, long after Deacon stopped moving.

Clearly, Jason was not in control of his wolf. Understandable, considering the events his first transformation were surrounded by.

“Should someone, I don’t know, do something?” Isaac asked. He had more of a reason than anyone to not want to interfere in the fight, being the only human amongst them, and he was not one bit interested in becoming a wolf like the rest of them.

“I don’t think so,” Morgan said with a shrug, and then pulled the cigarette he had in his ear and put it in his mouth.

Mick stepped forward, ready to put a stop to it.

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“Wait, Mick,” James’s voice barked, and Mick had no choice but

to obey.

“He needs me,” he said, looking back at James, begging him to let  him go.

“He needs to calm down first. He would attack even you at this  point.”

Mick would deserve it if he did, but he had no choice but to obey  his alpha and wait.

Jason was treating Deacon like a dog toy at this point. He’d  grabbed a hunk of the man’s back flesh with his teeth and was  shaking him around like Deacon was a squirrel in his mouth.

Finally something ripped, and Deacon’s body went flying into the  pond with a giant splash, and the once clear pond that Deacon had  coveted so much, was spoiled with red blood.

Jason whined, and then stepped forward, as though he wanted to  go in after him and do more, but stopped right before his grey paw  could touch down on the water. Then he sat, and there he stayed.

Mick looked to James, and finally his alpha gave him the  nod of  approval that Mick had been waiting for.

Slowly, he walked to his mate. Jason was panting, tongue lolled  out, but that didn’t mean his teeth wouldn’t be out in a flash if the

wolf that was now a part of Jason didn’t want Mick anywhere near

him.

Jason’s ears perked as Mick approached, and he tilted his head to look over to see who it was that was coming into his space.

Mick stopped, and when Jason looked away from him, watching the body in the water once more. Mick took a deep breath and took the extra two steps to his goal.

Jason cried when Mick neared him, that wolfy whine that nearly broke Mick’s heart.

“It’s okay,” he said, wrapping his arms around Jason’s shoulders.

His fur was warm and soft.

Maybe there was still something of his human mind in there,

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because Jason leaned his weight into Mick’s embrace, and then he  just seemed to let go.

His body made the shift back into a man, bones popping out and  back into place as they reformed, the hair either shedding entirely  away or shrinking back into his  pores until all that remained was pink  skin.

Jason had clocked out. Mick didn’t even try to wake him after

what he’d been through. He just wanted to take his mate home.

* * * *

“He’s your mate. You can’t just ignore him forever,” Corey, mate

to James, said.

“For as long as I want to, I will,” and it’s no business of yours, he

added silently.

Mick could still remember the look in Jason’s face when he’d

come to. The way he cowered away from Mick’s hand, demanded he  not touch him, and then hid away under his blankets, away from  anyone and everyone.

The pathetic thing was the way Mick was feeling sorry for himself  about it. Jason had every right to be mad, to not want anything to do  with Mick ever again.

Mick had been the one to lock him into their room instead of just  taking the extra five minutes to bring him to one of the other houses  to hold up with the other omegas. Mick had been the one to give away  to Deacon that Jason was his mate, putting a giant target on the back  of his head.

It had been Mick’s fault that Jason had been so brutally attacked, kidnapped, and then transformed into a creature he did not want to be.

That was the reason, and the only reason, why Mick just didn’t let him go right then and there. Jason was a newly transformed werewolf.  Sending him back out into the world with no family and no connections was the last thing that would be good for him. He needed

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to stay here, at least until James or Old Maggie could arrange for him  to stay with another friendly pack.

Corey, however, was still insisting on being a pain in the ass, and  he was currently sitting on Mick’s bed―the sheets had been  replaced―refusing to leave.

Thinking that Jason wouldn’t want to stay in Mick’s room, despite  its size, considering he’d been attacked and infected the last  time he’d  been inside of it, Mick had arranged for him to stay in Tristan’s old  room, from before he’d mated with Isaac.

“James avoided me, too, for a little bit after Dean came for me.

Blamed himself for what happened and everything, but I didn’t blame him, and he’d tortured himself that whole time for nothing.”

Corey scratched at his blond hair with his scarred hand. The hand the hunter who had captured him had poured water contaminated with silver onto. It was now, and forever would be, warped from the silver exposure, the skin heavily wrinkled and three shades darker than normal.

Mick had been there during that rescue, and he’d been there for  James when the poor man had went on his self-pity trip.

“This isn’t the same. He told me to get away from him. He doesn’t want me there, so I’m trying to make this as easy for the both of us as possible.”

Corey said nothing for a minute. “You know, Tristan told me that he found Jason crying yesterday in his room.”

That made Mick stop what he was doing, which wasn’t much. Just to keep from having to look at Corey while the other man lectured him, Mick was going through his busted drawer, pretending to rearrange his socks. He looked back at Corey.

The omega nodded. “He thinks you’re punishing him.”

“Why would I—?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he thinks you’re mad because of what  Deacon did. But I know he thinks you’re punishing him because he told me that earlier today.”

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Mick didn’t know if he was being tricked or not to just go into  Jason’s room, and that annoyed him. “How on earth could he possibly think I’m punishing him?” he demanded.

“Well, you did take him out of your room and have him moved into the guest house, you haven’t spoken to him, and he just found out that you’re asking around the other packs to see if they want a stray omega.”

Mick winced. “I never called him a stray.”

“The point remains,” Corey countered.

“This is ridiculous,” Mick snapped. “He was the one who told me not to touch him. He was the one ”—

“Mick, he was kidnapped, abused, and manhandled by a pervert  who was telling him God only knows what while he had him. Jason  won’t even tell James what Deacon said to him,” he said, his voice

indicating how impatient he was becoming. “Of course he would want  to be alone. He’s not going to want you touching him all the time.  Sometimes I can be mad and depressed about what happened with  Dean, and I want to be alone then, too, and that’s okay. I know James  isn’t going to take that personally.”

Mick hated the tiny spark of hope that was growing within him.  The thing inside of him that said Corey might just be right, when it  was so much easier to just wallow in his own misery, letting it  consume him.

“He’s not mad at me?” Mick asked. He wouldn’t be able to handle

it if he went down to the guest house to see Jason, just for the other

man to shun him.

“No.” Corey shook his head. “Even if he was, you’re planning on  sending him out of here. He’s your mate. He deserves to hear you say  goodbye to him and that you’re sorry.”

Mick wet his lips then nodded. “You’re right. I’ll go talk to James  about maybe putting off meeting with the other packs, and then I’ll go  find Jason.”

Corey glared at him.

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Mick got the hint. “Or I can go see him right now.”

“That’s better,” Corey said, getting up from his seat on Mick’s bed and heading for the door.

He stopped before he could leave, and Mick was wary about what else he might say, but then he just kept right on going.

* * * *

Jason didn’t like spending time in the spare room he’d been offered. It was bare save for the bed, nightstand, a lamp, and the few changes of clothes he’d been offered since he came here.

It felt cell-like, and nothing inside of it belonged to him, not even the clothes he wore now. Everything was still at the apartment in the large house he was renting in Brampton, and James had assured him that the pack leader he’d spoken to, the one that was offering to take  Jason off of his hands, would make sure Jason would be able to go back there to get his affairs settled and collect his things.

He liked walking in the woods, smelling the new smells, little things that his nose would never have been able to pick up before, and noting the shades of green in the leaves and patches of grass, shades he’d never see on any colour wheel.

It was calming. It made him forget for a little while that he had no friends here, and that Mick wanted him out of his life.

Corey and a couple of the omegas did visit, but having them over was just plain awkward. The two twin alphas, Jason still couldn’t tell the difference between them, had even come over  in an attempt to

cheer him up.

The sight of them, and knowing that they were all coming to wish

Jason a fare-thee-well, was almost too much to handle.

Mick wanted him out.

His heart made a painful lurch at that thought, and he rubbed his chest, hoping to push the organ back into a normal rhythm.

It was being stubborn. Having his family and friends cast him off

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with their self-righteous hatred for being gay, well, he’d thought that  was the worst thing in his life, but he’d overcome it. Having someone  else come to you, tell you that you’re their one and only, just to be  ignored by them, too…