A Wolf's Life Read online

  

  Wolf Souls 1

  A Wolf’s Life

  Maxwell Lynch is an alpha. A monster. A man barely in control of the beast. He and the creature have a tentative agreement. He kills hunters, and the animal will let him have control.

  Noah Perkins was always popular with shifters, creatures who could smell what he was and hoped to use his abilities, but Noah never had any interest. Kidnapped in the middle of the night, he's barely holding it together, until Maxwell appears.

  An alpha wolf the size of a bear, he calls to everything Noah is. When Maxwell is injured rescuing him, instinct kicks in and Noah won't leave Maxwell's side until he is out of danger.

  With the hunters still on the prowl, Noah and Maxwell have to put their fragile relationship on the back burner. Hunters don't like it when their prey escapes, and since they also have wolves working for them, Maxwell might have his work cut out for him defending his new mate.

  Genres: Alternative (M/M, Gay), Contemporary, Paranormal, Shape-shifter, Vampires/Werewolves

  Length: 25,825

  A WOLF'S LIFE

  Wolf Souls 1

  Marcy Jacks

  

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  A Wolf's Life

  Copyright © 2018 by Marcy Jacks

  ISBN: 978-1-64243-461-3

  First Publication: October 2018

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All art and logo copyright © 2018 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.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book or print book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at [email protected]

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Marcy Jacks lives and works in Ontario, Canada, with her loyal hound. She loves gaming, books, drawing, and writing about shifters and their Happily Ever Afters. For more books by Marcy you can visit her website at marcyjacks.com

  For all titles by Marcy Jacks, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/marcy-jacks

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  A WOLF'S LIFE

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  A WOLF'S LIFE

  Wolf Souls 1

  MARCY JACKS

  Copyright © 2018

  Chapter One

  Maxwell Lynch threaded his fingers together and stretched his arms out, cracking all of his knuckles before sighing, satisfied before he’d even started.

  The compound below, an old abandoned pencil factory of all things, was right where the motherfuckers were hiding, and he couldn't wait to get started.

  He looked up, smiling at the sky, his breath fogging only a little.

  "Nice night to kill some baddies."

  Collin folded his arms, stepping up beside him, his mouth set in a hard line. "Full moons are always a good sign for us, but maybe not for any of the souls these pricks already killed."

  Maxwell nodded. Wolf souls. A lot of them. They were in there. Held against their will by these fucks.

  Humans and wolf shifters alike born with an incredible ability. To give more power to the alpha and beta wolf shifters who mated with them.

  And the hunters, cowardly sacks of shit that they were, instead of picking on alphas they claimed to hate, went after the weaker ones. They went after other humans and sometimes the beta shifters, knowing they couldn't defend themselves, as well.

  Maxwell had noticed there was more activity around his town lately. A call had been put out by other wolf packs to watch out for a group of people who were out to kidnap anyone who might be a little too popular with the shifters.

  Wolf souls weren’t given that name because it was cutesy. Some shifters believed these people to be their soul mates, or their actual souls even.

  Being near these people could calm the inner beasts of shifters who had little to no control, and right now, Maxwell was feeling pretty out of control.

  His wolf wanted out, wanted to cause some serious damage, and he wanted to let the creature do whatever the fuck it wanted to the sick pricks inside that building.

  Flynn had his phone out. At twenty-eight, he was the youngest on Maxwell's team. "Should we contact Bodolf? He might want to know."

  Maxwell thought about it. "Send the man a text if you want. We're not waiting."

  Flynn didn't hesitate. The smile on his face was an eager one. The days when he’d been nervous over outings like this were long gone, but Maxwell couldn't stop seeing him as a kid.

  "Good. I'll let him know we found his souls."

  "You looking forward to the fight or what?"

  "Hell yes," Flynn said. "Fuck these guys. They should go down for what they're doing."

  Flynn’s own wolf was getting a little growly. Maxwell could see it in the way his fur was trying to slide out through his pores.

  The spicy-sweet scent of those wolf souls was calling to the lot of them, but there was something else in there tickling Maxwell’s nose.

  Focus. He had to focus.

  “They'll probably have guns. They might even know we're coming."

  Flynn pressed his lips together, ducking his head. "Well, that just means we have to be faster than they are."

  Even as he spoke, he was firing off the text to the other alpha. Letting him know they'd found where the hunters were located.

  Maxwell turned to the others.

  He’d brought a dozen or so men with him, making sure everyone was ready. "Dennis, you take team A and go down along the north side. I want a distraction while I go in the back."

  Dennis, already in his wolf shape, nodded, eyes blazing bright as he growled to the others. Anyone not in their wolf shapes quickly turned and followed him down the hill.

  "We doing this already? Because this is taking forever," Collin said, playing with the knife he'd pulled from the holster strapped to his arm.

  He carried that thing around despite having bigger and longer claws. Everyone had a lucky rabbit's foot of some kind.

  "We're going. Flynn, you're with me."

  "Roger dodger, boss," he said, shifting into his own wolf shape.

  Maxwell did the same. Collin was the only one of them who stayed in his human form as they ran down the hill.

  Maxwell barely stopped himself from howling at that gorgeous full moon in the dark night. It really was a beautiful night to kill some baddies, and he couldn't wait to get started.

  Especially with that delectable smell coming from the factory.

  Maxwell had a good feeling about this.

  * * * *

  Noah Perkins put his hand over Gus' forehead. Gus’ fever wasn't getting any better, and Sam was starting to cough.

  This place was damp, and being here for four days without a change of clothes, and little to n
o food, was starting to get to everyone here.

  Noah was lucky. He had yet to catch anything, but considering what these guys wanted from him, from everyone here, he knew it wouldn't be long.

  There were twenty-five people in here, sitting against the wall, lying down on any spare clothes and jackets that anyone had offered to them. People were weak and tired, and Noah was struggling to keep from losing hope.

  He would have thought the police would have found him and the others by now. He would have thought he would be out of here, but no.

  These guys were full-blown wolf hunters, and shifters weren't looked too kindly upon by the general public. There was a chance they knew this was happening and just didn't care.

  The woman who had been yelling at the door, insisting she wasn't a wolf shifter, had stopped. She’d even stopped crying a couple of hours ago, apparently realizing it didn't matter that she was a human.

  She was suspected of being a wolf soul. That was all it took for these guys to decide she needed to be put away.

  "You could get out of here."

  Noah looked back down at Gus. He was awake, but his color wasn't much better.

  "I don't think that's going to happen."

  "You're human."

  Noah looked up and around at the people surrounding him. "I don't think that matters too much around here."

  After a fit of coughing, Gus tried talking again. "You could just say you're not a wolf soul. They might let you go. It might work."

  It might, but somehow these guys knew. They knew it for a fact, and they didn’t seem interested in anyone telling them otherwise.

  Wolves could sniff out what they called the wolf souls. Noah had heard it described as a sweet smell, maybe sharp, or something that would sting the nose, but in a good way.

  Somehow these guys were picking up on that smell. Maybe it meant they had wolves working with them? Or some other way?

  While Noah didn't want to be a coward, he was pretty sure he was going to start begging and pleading and doing anything and everything he could do to get away when a gun was finally pointed at his head.

  He wasn't brave. He wanted to be, but he wanted to wait until he lost his manhood in front of these people.

  "Don't worry about me. We're going to get out of here."

  Gus inhaled a shaky breath, as if he didn't quite believe it, and then he closed his eyes, resting.

  Noah took the cloth off his forehead, moving to the old sink in the corner. It was deep and still worked. Everyone was getting their water from it, but Noah was trying his best not to drink it. He didn't want to risk that it was what had made people sick.

  He wet the cloth with more cold water and then brought it back to Gus' hot forehead.

  He didn't even know the man. Gus was a shifter who lived in a genuine pack and everything. Why the hell wasn’t he healing? Noah was a waiter. He didn't belong here. He should be doing everything he could to get away, but part of him didn't want to leave the other man.

  In the few days he'd been trapped here, Noah had started to think of these people as friends. Almost as family.

  Nothing like a kidnapping to bring people together, but now…

  Now he was stuck contemplating what he would do if he had to run and leave them all behind…

  A commotion pulled Noah out of his morbid thoughts. He looked up from where he had his head resting in his crossed arms. When had he fallen asleep?

  Rubbing at his eyes, Noah realized there were a number of people clustering around the door leading out of here. The only door in and out.

  They were trying to look out the tiny window. Noah heard shouts. And then he heard gunshots. He and everyone else instinctively ducked down when they heard the pop, pop, popping noises, but then they stood again.

  "It's the police!" someone shouted.

  "Did they finally come for us?"

  "About damned time," someone else muttered.

  Noah's heart jumped. Sam came to him, grabbed him by his arm, squeezing. "We're getting out of here!"

  Noah smiled brightly, pretending to have a confidence that had totally been slipping not too long ago. "See? I told you everything was going to be all right. I told you we were getting out of here."

  Sam gripped his arm even tighter then went to join the others.

  Noah looked back at Gus, who was still on the floor, eyes closed.

  Shit. Noah checked on him then sighed when he realized the man was still breathing. He was getting worse.

  Noah stood, running to the door where the others clustered.

  "Hey, guys! Guys!"

  It took some doing, but he managed to get enough attention on him that he could speak.

  "If that's the police, then someone might come in here to finish us off before we can be rescued. If that door opens, we charge whoever comes in, got it?"

  "I don't want to die," said one of the smaller guys. He couldn't be older than twenty. He also didn't have a tattoo on him so it was difficult to tell if he was a shifter or not. A lot of shifters tattooed themselves, but some didn’t.

  "We will die if we don't fight back. We're not done yet. Understand? Now come on, get to the side of the door. Hurry!"

  With reluctance, the group did as they were told, some others, like Sam, getting in on the plan while others cried and wailed in fear, unsure if this sort of plan could even work.

  He didn't have time for them. Noah went back to Gus.

  "Gus? Hey, man, come on. I need you to move."

  Gus moaned, but his eyes did eventually open.

  "Come on, you can do it. We have to go."

  Gus managed to help Noah, barely, and Noah dragged him to the side of the room. At least now he wouldn't be directly in the middle of their little prison if someone did open the door.

  And the door did unlock. Someone came in. Someone with a gun.

  The shouting and screaming started immediately after.

  Chapter Two

  Every gunshot Maxwell heard made his gut clench. He heard screams that couldn't possibly belong to the hunters, or maybe they did, but something was wrong. His heart fluttered like a hummingbird's. Panic rushed through him. Maxwell couldn't figure out what his problem was because they were killing it in here. The hunters were on the run. None of his own men were shot as far as he could tell, and he'd managed to kill a couple of the bastards already.

  He needed to end this. Needed to get some of those captured humans and omegas out of here so he could check on the rest of his men. Something was wrong. Something was eating away at his gut, and he didn't like it.

  Maxwell growled low in his throat, claws digging into the cement flooring beneath him as he launched himself down the narrow hall, fluorescent lights above his head flickering.

  This entire place was like a dying body. The skeleton of something sick he didn't want to be inside of anymore.

  But there was still that smell. The smell of blood and something else. Collin yelled out for him, but Maxwell didn't turn back. He couldn't. He needed to stay. He needed to find what was making his stomach clench up like this.

  He needed that scent. He couldn't rest without it.

  Maxwell came across the thing that was bleeding. A man. A human, down on the floor, freshly killed, too.

  His sleeve was rolled back, letting Maxwell get a look at the wolf skull with butterfly wings that signified he was a hunter.

  He growled at the man, wishing he would get up so Maxwell could kill him again. He looked inside of the room and had a sniff.

  Storage of some kind, but there were so many scents in here. Old scents, too. People had been held hostage, and he could make out the spicy-sweet scents of what they were.

  The wolf souls. They were here, but again, there was one scent that stood out from the rest, one scent that was sweeter than all the others.

  Maxwell left. He couldn't stay here when that smell was so close. So close. He could almost taste it. Just a little farther and he would be there!

  Then he was th
ere. Maxwell wasn't sure what he expected to find other than a group of men and women being terrorized by hunters, but it was what he did see, and for some reason, it shocked him.

  Two hunters closing in on a group of wolf souls.

  One of them had a nasty blade in hand, and the other reached for his back holster.

  Maxwell lunged at them. They were so caught up in what they were doing that they didn't notice the oversized wolf stepping up behind them.

  He chomped on the throat of one, destroying the dumb, balding bastard with one good bite. He was like the megalodon of all wolves, and these two idiots didn't stand a chance against him.

  Of course, before he could kill the other just by jumping on him, the asshole did get a shot off on him.

  Then Maxwell bit down on his arm, his hand falling away while Maxwell spat out his forearm and crunched hard on his face.

  Ew, the blood was disgusting in his mouth. Hunter blood. It was like tasting iced tea that had been warmed by sitting out in the sun too long and piss.

  He spat it away, but the clenching pain in his chest wasn't going anywhere. It still hurt. In fact, it hurt the more he moved, the more he breathed.

  Had that asshole actually shot him?

  Maxwell shifted back into his human shape. He needed all the fur out of the way so he could have a look for himself what was going on.

  Fuck. Right there on his pec, just above his left nipple, bleeding freely and tormenting him.

  And he was pretty sure he felt the sting of silver in that bullet, too.

  Or it was in his head because then he was falling over. The floor came up to meet him, and shit, was he dying? What side was his heart on? He had to remember. The right side, right? No, left. It was the left, which, after looking down, was not where he’d been shot.

  But this could still kill him.

  At least that smell came closer. Wait, that smell.

  Someone stood over him, someone kind of cute, a male.