Authors: Marcy Jacks
Tags: #none
DeWitt’s Pack 9
Taken by the Alpha Wolf
After being separated by death for over a thousand years, alpha werewolf Blasius has found his mate, reincarnated into the body of Detective Ryan Miller.
Ryan was injured in the last battle between hunters and werewolves, and Blasius has no choice but to force him out of his human life and turn him into a werewolf to keep death from separating them once more.
As a new werewolf, living by the laws of the pack is entirely different from the laws of a human, and Ryan doesn't know if he can adjust to this new way of life.
Blasius must convince Ryan, a down-to-earth man, that his place is at Blasius's side with the rest of the pack, before a new group of hunters arrives to finish what they started.
Genre:
Alternative (M/M or F/F), Paranormal,
Vampires/Werewolves
Length:
36,459 words
TAKEN BY THE ALPHA WOLF
DeWitt’s Pack 9
Marcy Jacks
EVERLASTING CLASSIC
MANLOVE
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Everlasting Classic ManLove
TAKEN BY THE ALPHA WOLF Copyright © 2012 by Marcy Jacks E-book ISBN: 978- 1-62241-809-1
First E-book Publication: December 2012
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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Letter to Readers
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Taken by the Alpha Wolf
by Marcy Jacks from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
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TAKEN BY THE ALPHA
WOLF
DeWitt’s Pack 9
MARCY JACKS
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One
Detective Ryan Miller couldn’t take it anymore. He was going insane stuck here in this fucking cage, and he wanted out. Now.
He slammed his whole body against the bars and threw the books he’d been given through them and against the basement walls of his prison. He yelled and kicked and raged with everything he had, but the fucking bars wouldn’t break. It hurt just touching them, but he didn’t give a shit about that or about the burning welts his skin produced whenever he punched the bars or gripped them with his fingers either. He was done caring.
One of the men had told him the bars were made out of silver and
that they would keep him in place, preventing him from tearing away at the round and thin strips of metal.
Silver. Yeah fucking right. More likely someone had just coated the bars with some kind of acid. He had no idea what it was on the
periodic table that would burn human skin without eating through the metal bars of this overly large dog cage he was in, but that was hardly the main topic on his mind.
He just wanted out.
It had been more than three weeks since he’d come to this land
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Marcy Jacks
owned by James DeWitt and had seen all those fucked up things, including watching his former lover and the officer on duty with him, Decker, get shot in the back of the head.
He’d been shot, too. Ryan had taken a slug in the gut, and he’d gone down, but he kept on shooting his gun, emptying all the bullets he had into the things that had wanted to attack him.
Some of them had been other people with guns, and then there had been the giant wolves.
They were enormous. Ryan hadn’t known wolves could become that size, some of which were about the same size as, or maybe even
bigger than, a standard grizzly bear.
He would never believe those creatures were werewolves, though. He was an intelligent man, educated, and definitely not superstitious. That was a hallucination if he ever saw one. And that man who’d
seemingly changed from wolf to naked male right in front of him?
That had to be a hallucination as well.
Maybe there was something in the air around this place. Maybe these people were part of some kind of cult, and maybe they also believed the things they saw around here to be real.
Whatever it was, Ryan had watched as they’d all, with grim faces, collected the bodies of their dead, along with the dead bodies of the men who’d attacked them, and quietly took them away into the woods
somewhere. Ryan assumed it was bury them and hide the evidence of what had happened.
He had already been halfway out of it by that time. Watching through the window, lying on a bed, while that same naked man from before had worked to take Ryan’s clothes off.
Nothing sexual had happened, that Ryan could recall, but his mind was hardly with him while that man cut him with something. He’d only taken his eyes away from the goings on outside to look for the cause of the stinging on his arms and legs, and when he looked, he’d wished that he hadn’t.
It had to be another hallucination. Either that or the guy was
Taken by the Alpha Wolf
9
wearing some kind of gloves.
His hands had become large, the skin leathery and darker than what was on his arms, chest, and face. They were brown compared to the rest of his tanned skin, and the knuckles were gnarled and huge.
What was even stranger was the hair. A patch of black hair, fur, really, on the top of his hand, and at the very end of his brown fingers were sharp black claws. The points were so profound they could have been needles.
And this guy was using them to make long scratches all up and down his legs, arms, neck, and chest.
Then, in a strange act of kindness, the man put his hand under Ryan’s neck and gently lifted him. A cool glass was put to his lips, and Ryan drank.
In that strange accent that was not quite English or Scottish, or anything else from Europe that Ryan could identify, the man had said, “Take all that ye be needin’. Yer body will need the liquid for the next part.”
Ryan hadn’t liked the sound of that at all. Then he understood why as he screamed at the burning fire that plunged into his stomach.
He arched his back, trying to get away from the sensation, but the bastard put his hand down on Ryan’s chest and forced him to endure the torture.
Ryan didn’t think he was so kind after that.
Then it was over, and Ryan looked down again at the hand, or glove, or whatever it was, and saw how bloody it was, as well as the bullet between his dripping fingers.
“Could’ve taken me to a hospital for that part,” Ryan said.
“What is a hospital?” the man asked.
Ryan supposed it was a good thing that he’d passed out right then because otherwise he might’ve screamed again.
He hadn’t woken up for what he would later discover would be another two days.
They were lying to him though. They had to be. When he looked
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Marcy Jacks
down at his stomach, his strangely not hurting or burning stomach, and then removed the bandages, he found that his wound was almost entirely healed. New skin had grown over the bullet hole and was still incredibly pink and fresh, but there was no way something like that could have grown in only two days. Even the long scratches that strange man had make over his arms and legs were gone, as though they’d never been there to begin with.