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what he’d basically married into, if mating counted as being married, and Corey kind of believed that it did.
    He reached up and put his hand on top of James’s. The facial features of his mate visibly relaxed with that small act.
    Corey smiled at him, a weak little thing, but it was there . “Thank  God Blasius got through to the guy, right?”
    “Yeah,” James said.
    There was a twitch in James’s cheek when he said it, but Corey didn’t comment on it. It told him enough. It said to Corey that Blasius and the detective might have a few more things to work out before they could have their happy ending.
    “Could you just do one thing for me?” Corey asked, unable to let

    34                            Marcy Jacks
    it go.
    James’s eyes widened a bit. “Anything.”
    Corey didn’t know if he would regret this later or not, but he had  to ask. “If another werewolf goes wild, can you at least give him a  chance before killing him? Not all wild werewolves hurt people,” he  said, thinking of himself in his nearly wild state, as well as the newest  member of their pack.
    James clenched his jaw, and then he nodded. “I’ll try.”
    * * * *

    When Ryan woke up, everything on his body hurt. He was pretty sure that even the strands of hair on his head were aching, and he groaned as he got up, little pine needles and tiny pebbles falling away from where they’d been pressed into  his skin from when he slept.
    He brushed them away. He was naked and had no clue where the hell he was.
    One thing was certain, though. He did feel better. He was out in the fresh air, looking up at the bright morning light coming down through the canopy of  pines, oaks, and cedars. He could say that he felt great, like he’d just come out of a spa or something.
    Not that he’d ever been in a spa, but he assumed the feeling in his body would be roughly the same.
    A couple of birds twittered somewhere. Ryan’s head  twisted around, trying to see where it was. He could hear the fast and feathery flapping of wings, so he assumed the little creatures were fighting somewhere near his head, and he even swatted his hands just to scare them away from him.
    Then he saw them, in a tree at least twenty yards away.
    His jaw dropped, and Ryan rubbed his ears, expecting something to pop inside so that his hearing could go back to normal.
    If anything, it got worse.
    He could hear insects buzzing around under the bark of the trees,

    Taken by the Alpha Wolf                       35

    smell those flowers blooming out of a patch of weeds just beyond that  shrub beneath the birds, and when he squinted, he could make out  details and colors he’d never seen before in, well, anything.
    “It’s somethin’, isn’t it?”
    Ryan spun around and then shot to his feet. That man, Blasius, stood not five feet away from him, a couple of dead rabbits in one hand and a small cluster of twigs in the other.
    “How come I didn’t hear you coming?” Ryan asked.
    Blasius grinned at him, approaching as though they were friends or something. “I’ve been a werewolf longer than you have.”
    His accent was soft again and almost playful.
    Sudden memories from the night before came back to him. Him pounding inside of Blasius with an ungraceful lust, of him running outside, his body cracking, changing…
    Then there were the other memories, things that blurred in his mind to the point where it could have been just a dream.
    No, it was not a dream. He’d been running on all fours. His hands and legs becoming hairy paws, and he and another wolf chasing each other through the trees, hunting anything that moved and chasing those down, too.
    He knew that the other wolf had been Blasius, and he felt his
    stomach twist as the ground beneath him swirled.
    “Easy, man, easy,” Blasius grabbed him by the arm, easing him
    back down to his ass for him to sit.
    “Breathe deep. That’s it.”
    “Jesus Christ,” Ryan said