Hunting Season: Werewolf Bodyguard Romance (Guarded by the Shifter Book 1)

wind whooshed behind him as one of his team chased after him. Owen glimpsed brown fur, but it was the scent that gave the wolf away. Andre bumped him and nipped at his fur before taking off running. Owen chased. They were safe in these woods. Gibson owned the property and they had miles to run and run and run through dense forest and forgotten paths.
Forgotten to humans, at least.
But in the beautiful chorus of howls, they were missing two. Rowe and Vega were out on a job and were probably running by themselves somewhere that could never live up to these grounds.
Owen let out a little whine at the thought. He wanted his family together. They may not have shared blood, but a dark night had bound them together years ago, and he was determined to build something with the men and women who shifted and ran with him.
Who else could understand how weird it was to be a werewolf?
He'd only been one for two years and he still didn't understand most of it. None of them did. But sometimes the urge to shift overcame them all and they ended up running through the night like the wild beasts that lived inside of them. It wasn't connected to the full moon, that much they had tested. But there weren't exactly guidebooks they could follow.
Andre let out a frustrated bark and Owen shook himself. Those were human thoughts for human time. He let them fall away and surrendered to his wolf. The scents grew more intense and he knew a hare was just out of reach, full of juicy blood and the spirit of the run.
He and Andre ran together and it wasn't too long before Hunter, Jackson, and Gibson joined them. One hare would never satisfy five wolves. But hare wasn't the only prey in these woods.
Gibson took the lead. The major had a way of doing that, and they all unconsciously followed. In this form they didn't talk, their communication relegated to looks and chuffs and barks. It didn't take much to get them into formation. They'd done this before.
Hare forgotten, they latched onto the scent of a stag and chased.
Owen's muscles ached but he forgot about it in the euphoria of the hunt. This was what his body was meant to do and he never wanted to stop.
And then it happened. The stag appeared.
The hunt was on.
He no longer paid attention to the feel of the ground beneath his paws or the scent of the trees in the air. His entire being was focused on the stag and the hearty meal they were bound to have. When Owen woke up with two legs he knew he might have a weird taste in his mouth, but he didn't care. He didn't worry about the future in this form.
It was going perfectly. They were a unit born to hunt together.
Andre ran ahead to flush the stag along the right path while the rest of them bounded after it, ready to pounce once it stumbled.
Only something went wrong. The deer was supposed to keep heading along the path. The trees would close in and become too dense for it to go any further. Then it would be theirs.
It didn't.
The stag took a turn toward the east and in a matter of seconds made it to the county road that abutted the property. The wolves had to skid to a stop before they left the tree line. They couldn't risk getting spotted by a regular human. If they were lucky, they might be mistaken for coyotes. But they weren't going to rely on luck.
Owen and the others were disappointed. It was hard not to be when a juicy stag had bounded from their grasp. But the night wasn't ruined. Not by a long shot. They ran and chased and played until exhaustion got the better of them. Some nights, they ended up in a pile of sleeping fur and slept under the stars. Not tonight.
Gibson gave the call and they all headed back towards the cabin.
Before he went in through the basement door, Owen shifted back to human. The others followed shortly behind him. His shift was faster than theirs, but not by much, and thankfully it wasn't too painful for any of them. It felt like stretching his muscles just past the point of comfort and holding it there for several seconds. Not exactly pleasant, but worth the cost.
And once he stood up, naked in the pale moonlight, his senses felt muffled by cotton. He could barely smell anything and the sounds all meshed together. But colors quickly became clearer as his senses adjusted back to human. That was the most jarring part of the whole change.
He opened the door and headed inside, picking up his bathrobe that was lying on the floor where he'd left it before the run. Everyone else did the same. They were quiet. They always were when they became human again, as if it took a while to remember how their vocal cords worked and what words went in which order.
Then Owen's stomach grumbled.
"Fuckin' Chip," Erin Jackson groused. She tied her own robe tight and slicked her blonde hair back into a ponytail with a tie that seemed to materialize from nowhere. He didn't know how she got her hair slicked so perfectly and he wasn't about to ask. Jackson had a way of frowning that made him sure he was about to get hit.
"Chip's hungry, major," Andre Gordon told Gibson, as if the major couldn't hear Owen's stomach.
Owen kept quiet and clamped a hand over his stomach as if that would do something to quiet it down. Then his stomach growled again and he couldn't hold in his laugh. "What can I say? I wanted venison!"
Gibson rolled his eyes. "Too fucking chipper is right. Hunter, go up and order a few pizzas. The usual place should still be open." It was getting close to midnight, but they were on the edge of a college