Marked for Love 3 by Jamie Lake

Author:Jamie Lake [Lake, Jamie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Gay & Lesbian, Literature & Fiction, Fiction, Gay, Romance, Contemporary, Gay Romance, 45 Minutes (22-32 Pages), Genre Fiction
Amazon: B00LVAK2GK
Publisher: Jamie Lake
Published: 2014-07-15T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 3

I threw my head back and sighed. I was going to get blue balls, I needed to jack off, but something told me whatever they were talking about was serious; was something that could and would affect me. I tried to listen carefully as I heard their muffled and gruff voices.

I tried to sit up but the chains that seized me kept me from doing so. I had to get out of these, I thought to myself as I turned my head toward the exit trying to listen in.

“That’s impossible. It’s a lie.” I heard Japheth bark. I could see his feet pacing back and forth in frustration. His voice was full of rage, snarling and growling.

“I swear, Japheth. It is his scent, his markings, his track,” the other werewolf said in defense.

Japheth sighed. He stopped pacing and stood in front of him. “Prepare the men. I do not want him to step one foot on our land or anywhere near it. Find him, bind him and lead me to him. I want to personally see him die.”

“Yes, sir,” Paul said.

Who was it? Who were they talking about? It seemed whoever they were, this pack had more than one enemy. I shuddered at the grim tone of Japheth's voice.

I forced myself back down as Japheth entered in a huff.

“Clothe yourself,” he told me, opening a trunk with a towel like garment in it. He tossed it in my direction.

I raised my chained arms, “It’s kind of hard when….” I trailed off.

He sighed, digging keys out of the trunk and kneeling by me. I could smell his delicious scent as he reached behind me, his skin brushing against mine as he did so. He looked at me, hurriedly unlocking the chains, and for a moment, it seemed as if he wanted to kiss me, but turned away.

“Make haste,” he instructed getting up. “Now.” He seemed to be reluctant to move away from me, but when I looked back up at him, all of the warmth and tenderness was gone. His face was stoic.

I did what I was told, quickly trying to put on the strange garment. There was no shirt that went with it, and I felt like I resembled more of a Roman toga than anything.

“We must leave now,” he said, his tone laced with urgency.

“Where are we going?” I asked, fastening the last of the bands that held the garment together.

“No questions. Just do as you’re told,” he said, his lip curling into a slight snarl.

“So bossy,” I mumbled. That’s when he charged toward me lifted me up and draped me over his shoulder, carrying me outside the tent.

The campsite was in a large clearing in the forest. Several fires smoldered, billowing thin, gray smoke into the air. Most of the tents were erected against trees, like mine, but some were just a thick sheet or piece of worn leather draped over wooden supports. Bones, standing out stark white against the gray-brown of the dirt, littered the ground by the campfires.

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