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Derrick
shared….
    That would teach
the big red Beta to quit spending so much time with his Pat.
    Speaking of
Pat…the wolf didn’t look the least bit interested in getting up from his lap.
Jules nudged at Pat, hoping he’d take the hint. The wolf on his lap refused to
bulge, so he tugged at it urgently this time. Pat only yawned, showing
impressive rows of teeth. Show-off.
    “Look, Pat. I’m
not going to lie to you. I can’t just sit here while I know the killer’s out
there,” Jules pleaded, combing his hand into his fur. “Please don’t make this
difficult for me. You’ve seen inside me. You know what I have to do.”
    He tried to push
at the wolf, but all he managed was to grunt and sweat. If it ever came to a
duel, he would never want to fight Pat. Werewolves weighed the same in human
form and in wolf form, and whatever flab their human halves had was converted
to solid muscle in wolf form. Skinny werewolves were easy targets, which was
why most wolves chose to bulk up and work out.
    Whatever tall
tales the media spun about them, it wasn’t easy being a werewolf. Unlike the
movies, they weren’t immune to things like diabetes, obesity or heart attacks.
Their bodies didn’t transform to buffed beefcakes either after they were
bitten. They had to work out and buff themselves like any human being.
    Being a werewolf
only meant they were men who could happen to turn into wolves, but a more
experienced hunter could easily kill them like any other animal.
    “Pat, come on,”
Jules warned, unable to help himself.
    Frustration began
to beat at him. He couldn’t afford to waste a second. Once the killer
discovered that the local wolves were on his scent, he might just run. He
wasn’t stupid. The killer may be able to trap and kill one or two shifters a
time, but whatever flavor of supernatural nasty he was, no one in their right
mind would face a pack of angry werewolves head-on.
    Pat turned his
head, giving him a look of disdain. It felt like minutes had passed and Jules
was becoming uncomfortable under that scrutinizing gaze. Eventually, Pat jumped
off the coach.
    “Good boy.”
    Jules grabbed his
coat and was immediately out the door. He was about to slam it shut but Pat
pressed his muzzle against the crack in the door, making a low sound in his
throat.
    “You can’t come
with me, Pat. You’re injured and this is my mess. Just wait for me ok?”
    Jules breathed a
sigh of relief when Pat withdrew his muzzle from the opening. Finally, he’s showing some sense. He did
jerk back when the door rattled and a three hundred pound werewolf pounced on
him. Pat knocked all of the breath out of his body and Jules’s back hit the
ground.
    “Persistent
stubborn wolf!” Jules let out a breath.
    Amber eyes stared
down at him gravely. Jules huffed and lifted his bandaged paw.
    “Let’s make a
deal, if you’re too injured to run, you’re not coming with me.”
    Pat only shoved
his nose at him as Jules began to unwrap the bandages.
To his surprise, the wound was healing abnormally fast. Pat even placed his paw
into his chest as if to say, “I told you so.”
    “That’s odd.
Normal wolves can’t heal that fast from silver. Only mated wolves can invoke
magic like this.” Jules froze as soon as he’d said those words, only
understanding the frightening implication of what they truly meant.
    Does that mean we’re really supposed to be mates?
    Fierce pride and
satisfaction filled both Jules and his wolf. It took him and Cole years to be
able to tap into the additional magical benefits of being werewolf mates. What
did it mean that it took him and Pat only a few hours to invoke it?
    Something else
wormed its way past the pride and satisfaction. Fear. It meant Jules only had more to lose. If he left Pat here, he suspected Pat would
find some other way to find him. It was better to have Pat where he could keep
an eye on him.
    “Oh fine. You can
come,” Jules snapped and Pat finally got off him. “A few ground rules