couldn’t take another step, and he would have to jump over.
Every once in a while he let out a yip. Nick and Terry dutifully yipped behind him, no sounds of tired whines in their replies. They were still there, and they were still doing just fine.
They also had another two and a half hours of traveling ahead of them, at best.
At least they were far enough away that those hunters wouldn’t catch up to them when they woke up to find the tracks.
* * * *
Tatum followed those tracks all the way back to that house they’d been at the day before. It was difficult to identify tracks that wind and snow had mostly erased, but the fact that they went right up the porch to the cabin, and all the way to the door, was a concern.
Anthony rode in from another path. “Storm found signs of an animal coming in from this direction, too.”
86 Marcy Jacks
Could these people have owned dogs? He hadn’t seen any, but he didn’t want to rule it out just yet.
He got up from his seat, leaving Chance alone on Ski-Doo, waiting for him, and walked toward the door. He would knock and ask if the owner had seen any wolves around.
Just in case. If it had been dogs, and Storm was wrong, then it would be logical that the dogs had caught the scent of one of these idiots and followed them back to camp.
He stopped when he made it to the door. The sun was barely peeking up over the horizon, but there was more than enough light for him to see the way the door frame was splintered by the handle.
“What is it, Tatum?” Chance called.
Tatum pushed against the door. It took only a little effort, but it came open after the ice broke away.
Not locked, and the handle was busted. Those men hadn’t
belonged here after all.
He turned around and started back toward the Ski-Doo. “You
were right, Storm. Wolves, and they knew we were coming.”
He looked down at the tracks, searching for where those wolves could have headed. Likely back to the neighboring pack that he’d attacked in the fall, but which direction had they gone in? And would he be able to catch them before they got back? He certainly didn’t have the manpower he did back then, and he and those other men had had their asses kicked.
He rode along, following the tracks back from whence they came, Anthony and Storm riding right behind him.
“Did they come this way?” Chance asked.
“Maybe.”
Then he saw it, the way the snow scraped and swished in an odd way compared to the rest of the untouched snow, just off to the side of the tracks and right into the trees.
It was classic, right out of that Disney movie with the Dalmatians. The wolves had tried to cover their tracks by keeping to the trail
Mated to the Wild Omega 87
they’d already made, and then they’d jumped into the trees before making their run for it.
He doubted they would be able to sweep their tracks away with the branch of a pine, however.
“They went this way!” he yelled, signaling for Anthony to follow him. He found a new, smaller path around the trees, and then they found the much fresher tracks again. They were in business. The tracks were messy from all the snow hindering them, but they were so fresh that he and Storm were able to look down at them and tell that
they belonged to large wolves. Werewolves.
Anthony shouted in excitement, revving his Ski-Doo, and the four
of them sped off to catch their prize.
* * * *
They were another two hours away from the pack when Morgan jolted to a stop. He perked his ears, hearing what sounded like a giant bee, coming in from far away.
He looked behind himself. Nick was on alert as well, facing the direction the noise came from, every muscle in his body tense. Terry whined, his chest constricting as his wolf cried.
Nick yipped and skittered ahead of Morgan. He stopped, and then he jumped forward once more.
The wolf signal to run. Got
Every once in a while he let out a yip. Nick and Terry dutifully yipped behind him, no sounds of tired whines in their replies. They were still there, and they were still doing just fine.
They also had another two and a half hours of traveling ahead of them, at best.
At least they were far enough away that those hunters wouldn’t catch up to them when they woke up to find the tracks.
* * * *
Tatum followed those tracks all the way back to that house they’d been at the day before. It was difficult to identify tracks that wind and snow had mostly erased, but the fact that they went right up the porch to the cabin, and all the way to the door, was a concern.
Anthony rode in from another path. “Storm found signs of an animal coming in from this direction, too.”
86 Marcy Jacks
Could these people have owned dogs? He hadn’t seen any, but he didn’t want to rule it out just yet.
He got up from his seat, leaving Chance alone on Ski-Doo, waiting for him, and walked toward the door. He would knock and ask if the owner had seen any wolves around.
Just in case. If it had been dogs, and Storm was wrong, then it would be logical that the dogs had caught the scent of one of these idiots and followed them back to camp.
He stopped when he made it to the door. The sun was barely peeking up over the horizon, but there was more than enough light for him to see the way the door frame was splintered by the handle.
“What is it, Tatum?” Chance called.
Tatum pushed against the door. It took only a little effort, but it came open after the ice broke away.
Not locked, and the handle was busted. Those men hadn’t
belonged here after all.
He turned around and started back toward the Ski-Doo. “You
were right, Storm. Wolves, and they knew we were coming.”
He looked down at the tracks, searching for where those wolves could have headed. Likely back to the neighboring pack that he’d attacked in the fall, but which direction had they gone in? And would he be able to catch them before they got back? He certainly didn’t have the manpower he did back then, and he and those other men had had their asses kicked.
He rode along, following the tracks back from whence they came, Anthony and Storm riding right behind him.
“Did they come this way?” Chance asked.
“Maybe.”
Then he saw it, the way the snow scraped and swished in an odd way compared to the rest of the untouched snow, just off to the side of the tracks and right into the trees.
It was classic, right out of that Disney movie with the Dalmatians. The wolves had tried to cover their tracks by keeping to the trail
Mated to the Wild Omega 87
they’d already made, and then they’d jumped into the trees before making their run for it.
He doubted they would be able to sweep their tracks away with the branch of a pine, however.
“They went this way!” he yelled, signaling for Anthony to follow him. He found a new, smaller path around the trees, and then they found the much fresher tracks again. They were in business. The tracks were messy from all the snow hindering them, but they were so fresh that he and Storm were able to look down at them and tell that
they belonged to large wolves. Werewolves.
Anthony shouted in excitement, revving his Ski-Doo, and the four
of them sped off to catch their prize.
* * * *
They were another two hours away from the pack when Morgan jolted to a stop. He perked his ears, hearing what sounded like a giant bee, coming in from far away.
He looked behind himself. Nick was on alert as well, facing the direction the noise came from, every muscle in his body tense. Terry whined, his chest constricting as his wolf cried.
Nick yipped and skittered ahead of Morgan. He stopped, and then he jumped forward once more.
The wolf signal to run. Got
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