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to do it with, say, Blasius. He’s one of the other members of my pack, and an alpha, Hunted and on the Run

35

but he’s not the leading alpha or mated to me, so I can’t speak to him telepathically.”

“And because you and I are mates, we can?”

John sighed and leaned back in his chair. He scratched the back of his head, thinking. “This is weird. I thought all shifters worked under the same rules, but I guess not. You see, there’s another pair of mates, Tristan and Isaac. Tristan’s an omega, but Isaac is human. They’re mated, but because Isaac is human, they still can’t do the telepathic thing.”

“But you and I can?”

“Right. I’m guessing maybe it’s because you’re a shifter who’s mated to a wolf, or maybe some of the magic bleeds into werecats even though you can’t do it with each other. I don’t know. I’m making this up as I go now and I really have no idea. The point is that you and I are mates, and I know you feel a pull to me, the same as I do to you. It’s spiritual and sexual,” he added, his face reddening again. John quickly looked down and grabbed one of the pizza slices from his plate, as though he could hide his face with it.

Something occurred to Storm just then. All the blushing, and his young age, it just sort of made sense when he said it.

“Are you a virgin?”

“No!” The defensive, immediate response was more than enough for Storm to know that John was lying.

It didn’t matter because they couldn’t be mates. “How is it possible? We’re men. The purpose of taking a mate is to reproduce and have kittens.”

“Or pups.”

Storm narrowed his eyes at the younger man. “Yes, clearly that much is the same in werewolf law, so―”

Another thought hit him. The reason why werecats were going extinct, why cat families looked down so much on homosexuality.

Could it be possible that was the true reason for it all? Too many werecats were finding their mates in their own sex, and with the 36

Marcy Jacks

species dying off, the remaining ones demanded that others marry and produce new werecats, whether they were mated or not?

He shook his head of the thought. There was no proof of that, and it was a long shot anyway. Also not his business since he was no longer welcome within his family and had no intention of ever making a litter of kittens.

“You’re quiet,” John said.

“I’m thinking.”

“I got that,” John said, his voice flat. “Look, I don’t want to force you into anything. If your debt says that you have to go where I go, even if I try and set you free, fine, but you’re not my sex slave. I won’t make you have a relationship with me. This is new to me, too.”

Storm raised his eyebrows. Such a confession as that must have been difficult for an alpha to get out.

He appreciated it, and he thought of how he’d stroked his cock in the shower, imagining the other man behind him, kissing his neck, holding him close, and fucking him.

John had done the same. Storm knew he had. He’d heard John’s soft moans coming from the other side of the paper-thin walls as he’d touched himself, clearly thinking of Storm.

In what position? Storm shivered.

He’d desired men, secretly, and even when he’d been with Tony, enjoying his first sexual experiences with another man, he still hadn’t desired the human as much as he did John.

“You would hardly be forcing me into having sex with you.”

John’s head shot up.

Storm wasn’t about to deny it anymore if the man wanted it. If they both wanted it.

Hunger entirely forgotten about, Storm reached over and took hold of John’s hand. He got up, expecting to have to lead the stunned alpha to the bed, but he was still an alpha, despite his inexperience.

The moment John put together what it was that Storm wanted from him, it was he who was practically dragging Storm over to the bed.

Hunted and on the Run

37

They were of equal height, so John had no trouble when he grabbed Storm by the shoulders and pulled him forward for a harsh and sloppy kiss.

Storm was going to have to teach the man a thing or two, it seemed.

He was the sort of cat who enjoyed being lazily stroked. He grabbed John by the ears, forcing the man to separate from him and getting his attention in the process.

“Not like that.”

John’s eyes were clouded with lust. Whether it was his youth or the werewolves’ legendary mating stamina that was the cause, or even the fact that they were apparently mated, Storm could not say.

“How then?”

Storm did his best to lead John without taking control of the kiss.

He wanted to enjoy himself, not get in a battle for dominance with an alpha werewolf.

He brought John’s face forward, allowing the other man to kiss him once more. This time, when he opened his mouth, he refused to allow John to simply plow inside.

He gripped the younger man’s shoulders tightly, glaring at him with his one eye to give John a hint to his displeasure.

John took it, and he slowed down, allowing Storm’s tongue to come forward, both meeting halfway, both stroking.

Storm loved the feel of it, but John pulled away quickly with a laugh. “Your tongue is scratchy.”

Yes, yes, he’d been told that before. “Not because I use it to wash myself, let me tell you that.”

“I believe you,” John said, still grinning like an idiot. “It’s not uncomfortable. I like it.”

“Good.” Storm pulled John forward again, using a little force of his own this time.

John was a quick study, and as their lips and tongues caressed, he found himself relaxing. His hands wrapped around John’s back 38

Marcy Jacks

instead of simply holding onto him by the shoulders. He noted the way John had closed his eyes as he enjoyed himself, and

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