Kidnapped by the Werewolf Hunter [DeWitt's Pack 13] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove), Marcy Jacks [book recommendations for teens .TXT] 📗

Why not indeed. Adam would’ve done everything to Cole that Luke and Dan had if given the chance, but somehow he thought there was enough bloodshed today. Two out of three hunters dead was more than enough for him at the moment.

Phillip was looking at him, still awaiting an answer. “Because he’s unconscious and missing his arm. It wouldn’t be right killing him when he can’t defend himself.”

Phillip’s face contorted with rage, and his eyes turned gold. “They kill us when we’re helpless.”

Shit. “I know, I know.”

“All the time.”

“I have something else to worry about other than him,” Everett said, unzipping the pack of medical supplies and finding it depressingly near empty. Most of the items had been used up on Adam, it seemed. His stump had been pretty heavily bandaged.

“Please just stick around here and help me with this. Don’t worry about him for now. He’s probably dying anyway.”

Phillip’s angry sneer turned into a curious frown as he stepped forward. “What would you like me to do?”

Everett thought about that for a minute. “Do you know a werewolf named James DeWitt?”

Chapter Ten

Cole woke up an hour after Everett convinced Phillip to go to the pack where Cole now lived. Phillip had heard the name of James DeWitt and become oddly guarded, but he still agreed with Everett that more help than this was needed.

Cole was a werewolf now, and despite how much Everett still didn’t understand how that worked, he would be needing his pack.

The only thing Everett would want to know was why they had failed to come and rescue Cole to begin with. That was part of what Everett ultimately didn’t get. Why was he so loyal to a pack that was barely loyal to him?

Of course, Everett being angry with them wouldn’t change the fact that he was still angry with himself for what he’d done, and for also allowing Cole to get so brutally hurt.

When Cole’s beautiful red-brown eyes opened and focused on him, and his face didn’t twist around in anger, Everett took him by the cheeks and kissed everywhere on his face.

Cole let him, and he reached up to pull Everett closer. Then he seemed to realize what he was lying on and nearly jumped up.

Everett put his hand against Cole’s chest, carefully avoiding the knife slices that were still scabbing there. “Easy, easy baby. You’re on a cot, not on the table.”

Cole relaxed, and he never took his eyes away from Everett’s face. His voice was hoarse as he asked, “How’d we escape?”

Everett swallowed around the lump in his own still-hurting throat. All that screaming they’d both done had taken its toll. “Another werewolf came and saved us. I think he was wild, and he killed Dan and Luke and then he let me loose. I brought you in here.”

Cole’s eyes widened a little, and he started to look around the tent they were both in. “We’re still in their camp?”

Everett nodded, taking Cole’s hand into his and clutching it tightly. “Yeah. I didn’t want to move you yet. The four-wheelers will still work, but they didn’t look like the right kind of vehicle to move an injured man in.”

He laughed a little as he spoke. The thought of trying to get Cole’s unconscious body comfortably on one of those things did seem a little laughable now that the immediate danger was out of the way. Had Cole been more severely injured, Everett would’ve done it in a heartbeat.

“I asked him if he knew your pack. He said he did, and I sent him off to go and get them. Don’t know how fast he can run, but if they’re getting around on their own vehicles, and we take the four-wheelers outside, we can meet up about halfway with your pack, and then you’ll be safe.”

“I’m sure they were looking for me,” Cole said. “I wasn’t gone that long. Maybe the wolf will run into them sooner, and we’ll meet up with them today.”

Everett didn’t think that was too likely, but he wanted to keep Cole in a good mood. He’d been through more than enough. “Yeah, maybe.”

Cole looked down at himself. He lifted his hands and flexed his fingers, and Everett looked down just as he wiggled his toes. Then he sighed. “They didn’t cut anything off.”

Everett winced. Cole had seen all the slice marks and bruises on himself, the spots that he couldn’t cover with bandages because there hadn’t been enough, but he still took his condition to be a good sign, as though it was the best he could hope for.

The sick thing was, that it was true. The hunters had pumped him full of drugs, cut him up, and stuck things under his fingernails, but he was still grateful they hadn’t done more.

More than ever, Everett was ashamed he’d ever been affiliated with such people.

“Hey, come here.”

Everett hadn’t realized that Cole was reaching for him until his hands touched his face. Everett jumped a little at the contact but then relaxed as Cole brought his face down and kissed him softly.

Everett gripped his shoulders tightly. Cole’s skin was warm and his body was already starting to recover. He couldn’t have asked for more.

“Don’t think about it,” Cole said when he pulled away. “It’s not your fault.”

Everett put his fingers in that auburn hair of his. It was soft, just like always. “It kind of is,” he said. “You sure you want to do this?”

Cole frowned at him. It was part annoyance and part confusion. “If you think for one second that I blame you for those men cutting me, you’re out of your mind. You were trying to keep me away from them. I know that. I love you, nothing that happened was your fault, and I’m not leaving you because we had a close call.”

Everett’s throat closed right up. He’d worried that Cole wouldn’t realize what he’d been doing earlier when he offered to go back with the hunters, but he did know. Despite