Marco's Second Chance

By: Marcy Jacks

Fury 7

Marco’s Second Chance

Marco Brise has been on the run for years. Ever since his alpha father and sister killed each other and most of the pack, he’s been better off on his own, leaving his brother, the last of his family, for fear that Erin would get hurt.

But Erin tracked him down, somehow. Apparently the man is living with a dragon clan now, and he wants Marco to come home where it’s safe.

But Marco doesn’t think he can. Worried he’ll ruin his brother’s happy moment with terrible memories, he’s decided to stick it out right where he is.

Until the Dog Catchers find him. One of them is an alpha. An alpha wolf. An actual alpha wolf, alive, and working for the Dog Catchers. If the alpha hands Marco over, he’s done for. It’s as unbelievable as the fact that Marco is incredibly attracted to the man, and smells his mate on him.

Just another curveball. He can handle it.

Chapter One

Marco stared at the phone at the email from Erin. He couldn’t believe it. The man had stopped emailing him a year ago.

His brother. He’d almost worried the man had died or something.

He turned over on his scratchy sheets, rereading it for the thousandth time, hardly able to contain the sense of pride that swelled up within him.

Marco, you’re going to be an uncle. I don’t know if you’re okay or if you’re alive or if you’re reading this, but please come see me. I’m living with a dragon clan now. They’re taking good care of me.

A dragon clan, huh? That was interesting, which also explained the whole pregnancy thing.

Dragons were a weird bunch. Big lizards, but if they were looking after Erin, then there wasn’t much Marco could complain about.

I’m almost due. The process is kind of scary, but I’m told I’m in good hands. If you want to be there, this is the address.

Remarkably, they were in the same state. He did a quick Google check on his phone to figure out the drive time with the bus.

It wasn’t too bad.

You’ll have to arrange to meet me or my mate at Sal’s Diner just in town. There’s wards put up to keep anyone who doesn’t live here from finding us. A lot of warlocks live around here.

Weren’t spells only cast with warlocks? What was this about wards?

Even if you don’t want to come, please respond. I at least want to know that you’re alive.



Marco let the phone rest against his chest.

He stared up at the ceiling. He knew the cracks by heart. He could draw them out in his sleep.

His brother was alive. He was doing well. And he wanted Marco to come and see him.

Marco had received that email early that morning, but since he tended to sleep in until well past one in the afternoon, he didn’t check until almost five.

Now it was getting dark out. He had to get his ass to work soon.

He was in his late twenties now and still washing dishes part time. He could barely afford this shitty motel room, and if he were honest with himself, he was kind of tired of running.

He wanted to see his brother again.

Marco pressed his lips together. He shut his eyes. He could still remember the look on Erin’s face, his eyes wide as blood splashed across his cheeks.

Their sister’s blood. While their father just fucking mutilated her.

Marco had puked at the sight, but there had been no time to be sick or let himself get caught up in the moment. He and Erin had to run.

It wasn’t their dad’s fault. It wasn’t even his sister’s fault.

They were alphas. Alphas were…

Well, they were no more.

Six years ago, some kind of brain disease had gone around. Targeting all the alphas, some betas, and even the occasional omega.

It seemed to go for the part of the brain that triggered angry emotions and removed their inhibitions.

They went crazy.

The alphas would be fine one day, the next, complain of a headache, and the day after, they were attacking and killing their closest friends, their loved ones, and their children.

Marco opened his eyes and lifted his left hand. His pinky finger, gone, and the scarring all up and down his arm was still ugly and deep.

He could still see the second-in-command, his father’s best friend, sliding his dirty claws through Marco’s skin.

His back wasn’t much fucking better.

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