Jacks, Marcy - The Hunter's Omega Mate [DeWitt's Pack 2] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove)

DeWitt's Pack 2

The Hunter ’ s Omega Mate

When Tristan Scott ran away from his pack to avoid the roving eye of a cruel alpha, he never expected to save the life of Isaac Foster as he was drowning in the river, nor did he think the gorgeous man with purple eyes would be his mate, or a hunter of werewolves.

Isaac has hunted werewolves ever since watching his family being murdered as a kid. He hasn't had time for relationships, but there's something about Tristan he can't get enough of.

Their easy time together is shattered when they're attacked and  Tristan is forced to transform to defend them. Isaac cannot believe it, and threatens to kill Tristan should the two ever meet again.

But meet they do. They cannot separate themselves from each other, regardless of their enemy status, and soon they must decide whether or not a hunter really can love a werewolf w ithout it jeopardizing both of their lives.

Genre:
 
Alternative (M/M or F/F), Paranormal,

Vampires/Werewolves

Length:
 
23,624 words

THE HUNTER’S OMEGA MATE

DeWitt’s Pack 2

Marcy Jacks

EVERLASTING CLASSIC

MANLOVE

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IMPRINT: Everlasting Classic ManLove

THE HUNTER’S OMEGA MATE Copyright © 2012 by Marcy Jacks E-book ISBN:  978- 1-62241-515-1

First E-book Publication: October 2012

Cover design by Harris Channing

All art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
 
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in  whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER

Siren Publishing, Inc.www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

Dear Readers,

If you have purchased this copy of
 
The Hunter’s Omega Mate
 
by  Marcy Jacks from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy

This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

This is Marcy Jacks’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect

Ms. Jacks’s right to earn a living from her work.

Amanda Hilton, Publisher
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THE HUNTER’S OMEGA

MATE

DeWitt’s Pack 2

MARCY JACKS

Copyright © 2012

Chapter One

Fuck ’em all.

Tristan repeated the words inside his head until it became the mantra he marched to as he walked away from his pack forever, bag slung over his shoulder and the sun on his neck.

He actually felt pretty good, considering the way his hands were shaking and stomach churning. He never thought he’d be driven to leave his pack, his family, before, but there was no way in hell he was going to be part of that prick’s harem just to settle some old rivalries.  Deacon could get hit by a bus for all Tristan cared, and the stupid land he and James were constantly fighting for could burn, and Tristan wouldn’t shed a tear.

Okay, maybe he was a little pissed off. He didn’t want to be an abandoner, but if the choice was between leaving his pack and becoming one of Deacon’s man whores or just leaving the pack, well,  Tristan didn’t have to think too long on which he would prefer.

Tristan knew James, his alpha—or well,
 
former
 
alpha at this point—would never ask him to go, but the attacks had been getting worse, more desperate and violent, and every time someone got hurt,  Tristan could practically see the wheels turning in James’s head,

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Marcy Jacks

wondering if keeping one omega safe was worth the broken bones and  spilled blood from the rest of his pack.

So Tristan packed up and left an hour before dawn, officially  taking the burden from James’s shoulders, and now he was free like  the wind. He walked along the water’s edge of the river, kicking rocks  away with his orange flip-flops. If James or someone else from his  pack decided to come looking for him, they would expect him to walk  along the water to keep his scent out of the air. Tristan didn’t mind  that so much. It was being found by a member of Deacon’s pack that  he was worried about. They wouldn’t know he’d left, but Tristan  didn’t want his scent floating around just in case one of those flearidden goons happened to be in the area.

A wandering omega was pretty much open season for any  werewolf to claim if they wanted, and Tristan would prefer to avoid  that until he came upon some human civilization. He’d go a few  towns over, make some money doing a couple of odd jobs, and maybe  find a place to live with the humans.

At least it was a beautiful day.

* * * *

Fuck ’em all, Isaac Foster thought as he spotted his rifle, sitting innocently enough on top of two crossed tree branches, which stretched out dangerously over the running water.

It was like a skeletal hand that held what he wanted but was

playing a cruel game of keep-away with him.

Isaac and the others were here to hunt wolves, not dick around

with each other.

The water was calm enough, but it was dark, suggesting how deep it really was, and the way it sounded as it moved on by suggested how powerful that current really was.

Isaac should have never told those idiot motherfuckers that he was

afraid of the water.

The Hunter’s Omega Mate
                     
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There was a cackle of laughter behind him and an overly loud

hoot.

It  was like dealing with a bunch of goddamn frat boys. He was the new guy in their group with the least amount of experience, brought in mostly for the sake of adding numbers and strength to their mission. Just for that, he was the one who had to deal with this shit

the most, handling these stupid pranks until he proved himself.

“If that falls in the water one of you idiots are replacing it!”

More laughter in the distance. The guys were all content to sit  around their breakfast fire, pretending no one had a hand in Isaac’s  predicament, all the while listening closely for the sounds of his  enraged cursing.

Fucking frat boys. Isaac was actually the youngest out of the lot of  them.

He took off his holster that held his handgun and got to work on climbing the gray-looking tree, trying not to think too hard about whether it could actually even hold his weight. One of those other idiots had gotten it up there and come back down safe enough, after all.

Isaac had no problem with heights, so making it to the heavy branch that stretched out long and far, holding his rifle, was not a problem.

The world only began to spin once he started to crawl along the branch, and he found himself looking down at the deep, dark, black-blue running water beneath him. His palms began to sweat, and he had to lay his body flat against the branch he held, holding his arms tight around it, even though the rough bark scratched at his skin and face.

Christ almighty.

There was a long shout from the campfire several yards away.

“Need someone to come and help you?”

Would have been a nice offer if the tone hadn’t been so mocking.

“Fuck off!” Isaac yelled back. Then he told himself to stop being

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