Free Jacks, Marcy - Handcuffed to the Werewolf [DeWitt's Pack 3] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) by Marcy Jacks Page A

was. He wasn’t the least bit familiar
    with the land he was on to have any clue to their whereabouts, and he  was sure he’d blacked out there for a minute, so his location was a
    mystery.
    They couldn’t have gone that far from the pack already. Could  they? Every step he stumbled on, every rock he passed was like  another drop in the heavy bucket of despair he was carrying around.
    This guy was actually kidnapping him and taking him away  from  Mick, and unless Jason learned how to fight back ninja style using  only his legs, there was nothing he could do to fight back. Whenever  he’d stopped, pretending to stumble or be too hurt to keep going,  Deacon had just carried him.
    He was just glad they finally stopped at a pond. It looked like it  was being fed by a small waterfall. The water must be coming from  the river, and it was so clear that Jason could see straight to the little  minnows and frogs chasing each other around at the bottom.
    Deacon bent his head into the water to drink. He didn’t offer Jason
    any water, but that was all right. Despite the raging fire on his skin,  his main concern was getting the gag out of his mouth. He’d been  pushing and prodding at the ball of shredded cotton in his mouth, but  the gag tied around his head kept it in place no matter what he did.
    It was getting too dangerous keeping it in there, and he was  having trouble breathing. He needed to get it out. Something in his  nose must have collapsed, or maybe it was just the buildup of drying  blood, but it was getting increasingly difficult to breathe through his  nose, and he had to force the air in and out, and always with a loud

    74                            Marcy Jacks
    whistling sound to accompany his efforts.
    “Wish you would stop making that sound,” Deacon said, raising
    his head from the water to look at him. “It’s not attractive.”
    Jason tried telling him that he couldn’t breathe right, but Deacon didn’t understand him and went on splashing the water over his face and neck. The effort only took up more Jason’s air and left him out of breath, so he stopped trying, hoping Deacon would just take the gag out when he was about ready to let Jason drink from the spring.
    Deacon lifted himself up about a minute later, wiping his hands on his pants. “Don’t know if DeWitt finished off the hunters or not, so I think it’s best we leave now, just in case.”
    No! He had to take the gag out!
    “Yes, yes, I know you’re impatient to get gone,” Deacon said, grabbing him by his T-shirt and yanking him up again.
    Jason made an effort to struggle out of Deacon’s grip, but Deacon just wrapped his huge muscled arm around Jason’s chest, bent down to grab his legs, and then hurled him over his shoulder.
    The knock against his stomach pushed all the air right out of his lungs, and Jason struggled  violently, unable to breathe, to think.
    He was going to die!
    “Hey there, quit your struggling now.”
    “Put him down, now!”
    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.

    Handcuffed to the Werewolf                      75

    “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