Loved by a Werewolf by Bronwyn Heeley

Chapter One
     
     
    The way things were going, Jex wasn’t getting out of these woods alive. He’d come to that conclusion about a half hour ago when he found himself, yet again, leaning against a tree that held a knife sticking out by the rubber end. The knife wound up in said tree because Jex had managed to duck just in time.
    The sound of the forest filled his ears. The screams and cries of animals seemed to be more alive at this moment than they had been throughout the day as the men he didn’t know led Jex into the depths of the forest.
    He hated it. His kidnappers were idiots, though, and his father had prepared him for the fact that this might happen to him at some point in his life.
    Yeah, wasn’t that sweet? When most fathers were teaching their sons the birds and the bees in bedrooms, while looking anywhere but at the boy whose nappies they used to change, Jex was learning that his father was into some horrid stuff, and because of that, he was taught the do’s and don’ts of being kidnapped.
    Do make it easier for them at the start, his father instructed . Once you’re kidnapped, and especially when your father is a mob man, you want to make them think you’re dumber than they are. Don’t make it easy for them. Just make them think you don’t know what you’re doing so they won’t guard you as closely.
    Don’t try to attack them. That’s a no-no for many reasons, mainly because no matter what, they will always have the upper hand, especially since Jex was eighteen years old years old and in no way a killer. Hell, he wasn’t really much of anything—not skinny, not bulky, more average, to the point that he was surprised the men knew who to look for.
    Running hard, he’d been taking in sharp gulps of cold air that seemed to rip through his chest. The pain made him understand that he was still alive, and it was going to be more painful if he wanted to stay that way.
    He began to push himself because he remembered something that Matt, his best friend—hell, only friend—told him when they were out playing football one afternoon. Push through the pain . Football really wasn’t something Jex liked. Hell, Jex wasn’t sure he cared that much for anything but…Matt. The guy had looked at Jex when he first walked into the classroom, one of the many he’d been in, his black-clothed body shaking slightly as the group of class mates looked at him, judged him in that split second, and found him…Jex would say lacking, but that wasn’t true. The reason he only had one friend was because Matt was the only one ballsy enough to stay his friend after his father had pretty much fucked up this new town—and everyone knew it. His dad was bad news, and that was what motorcycle gangs would say if you asked them. They’d tell you to keep a wide distance because, let’s face it, they weren’t going anywhere near the fucker.
    Wasn’t it great?
    Looking up, Jex could see the moon was full, the light filling the sky, but it wasn’t helping him any, since it didn’t filter through the leaves.
    “Oi, this way,” a deep voice said from somewhere behind Jex.
    At least he hoped like hell that the men were behind him and that the woods weren’t messing with his hearing, because it would suck if he ran into them while trying to get away.
    Just keep moving, no matter what—get up and keep moving .
    Following Matt’s voice in his head, Jex took a deep breath that hurt so much, he had to clutch at his ribs to keep from sobbing. He moved away from the tree he was leaning against and headed in a new direction, hoping like hell that it would get him somewhere back where he started.
    Branches slapped at his face and shoulders, hips and thighs, making each breath he took a gasp too loud to be any good for him. He couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the response to the agony that kept attacking him in the dark, most of it coming as a complete surprise to him. Because as much as he could see, he wasn’t seeing