Fated Hearts

by Garrett Leigh

  Zio couldn’t deny that excited him. It was why he’d come to the club in the first place, to find something—someone—to help him forget, even if it was just for one night. A single moment, even. Maybe then he could go home, make ready for war, and face the rest of his life without his best friend.

  More booze passed his lips. Vodka, mainly. Ukrainian. It was sixty percent alcohol—just enough to resist his superhuman metabolism. Rough and strong, its fierce heat seared his throat and dulled his senses, all the while bringing parts of him to life that he’d long forgotten about. Parts of him he could forget about all over again if he was lucky enough for the vodka to send him to sleep.

  He stumbled away from the bar and found a quiet corner. Most of the humans—though his presence made them horny—gave him a wide berth, and he dropped onto a soft armchair with the space to stretch his legs and survey his surroundings through bleary eyes. Arousal was still heavy in the air, draped over the room like a cloak, but as he sat there, head spinning enough to soften the sharp spikes of grief, something else hit his consciousness—something hotter and brighter than the roiling mess of human emotions around him.

  It started in his gut and bloomed into his chest, drawing him to his feet as his veins began a slow buzz, and it reverberated in every cell of his body. Deep, primal desire pulled him forward, and he followed the trail, hands already reaching for the fly of his grubby jeans as the drive to connect with whoever was tugging the invisible cord took over.

  Down some steps and through a door. Another door. A blackened corridor, so dark even Zio’s wolf eyes couldn’t see. But gods, he could smell. And feel the addictive warmth heating his blood until a fire was lit within him, and an ache in his chest drove him to his knees. The scent that had drawn him to this dark place swirled around him and he drank it down, bracing himself on the cool tiled floor, gasping. I need—

  Strong hands hauled him to his feet. His back hit the wall before he could blink, and his jeans dropped to his ankles.

  Zio’s cock sprang free and he gasped again, fumbling for whoever had come upon him, desperate to feel flesh against flesh. His hands hit warm skin, and blood as hot as his thrummed beneath his fingertips. A rough jaw. The hard planes of a man’s torso. Slim hips and a thick, heavy cock that made Zio’s mouth water. “I want to fuck you,” he slurred, voice so distant it seemed to belong to someone else.

  A man chuckled. “I don’t think we’ll make it that far.”

  Zio was too blinded by booze and desire to dissect the statement. He fought the man for dominance and lost. The corridor was narrow. Zio leaned on the wall behind him and braced a hand on the one in front. His other hand found the man’s cock and another wave of beautiful scent slammed into him.

  His wolf rumbled with want. His teeth tingled, but he fought the urge to let them slide free and search out the man’s neck. Biting humans without their consent was strictly forbidden, and there was no time for conversation. Zio needed the man to come so he could smear his scent into his skin and return the favour. I’ll claim him later.

  Hot hands grappled with slippery flesh. Zio thrust into the man’s hand, all the while jerking his cock. A coil of pleasure-pain built in his belly, ensnaring every nerve. He pushed off the wall and against the man until they were pressed together everywhere except where he needed it most. Want— Need—

  But he couldn’t think clearly enough to construct either sentence, and suddenly, any coherent thought he had left was gone. Orgasm roared through him, starting from the tips of his curled toes and sluicing through his entire body. His companion let out a guttural groan, but it was drowned out by Zio’s own crazed yell.

  Hot release coated his hand. He brought their cocks together and smeared their seed until he couldn’t tell whose scent was whose, and his wolf howled with pleasure. Mine—

  Fuck! As quickly as his senses had abandoned him, the strength of his wolf’s desire brought them screeching back. Still panting from the sheer force of his climax, Zio reeled back in horror. That scent. It’s not—

  The other man gasped. “Shit, you’re a wolf.”

  Chapter Four

  For the thousandth time since he’d arrived in England, Devan scented the unfamiliar air, catching both human and wolf as he searched for that one magic scent he’d spent the last twenty-four hours frantically scrubbing from his skin. Idiot. You’ve been on the mission a couple of days, and you’ve already messed up.

  And damn, had he messed up. Hitting the club was supposed to have been a last gasp of freedom before pack life took over. Instead, it had turned into the most surreal experience of his supernatural life.

  Inexplicable and unforgettable.

  Satisfied he was safe—for now—Devan found a bench outside the train station where he’d been instructed to wait for his wolf hosts. He should’ve been preparing himself to meet his new alpha. Instead his mind was stuck on the young wolf he’d stumbled across in the shadowed corridor of the smoky nightclub.

  It had been no accident.

  The young man swayed on his feet, drunk and disorientated. “I want to fuck you.”

  Devan couldn’t remember what he’d said in response—which was worrying all by itself—but gods, he remembered the wolf’s scent. How it had called to him, embedded itself in his every sense, drawing him back into the club when he’d been on his way out. Hands. Skin. Ragged groans and sweet release. Devan had never been so consumed by desire. So out of his fucking mind with want and need.

  But the crazed attraction hadn’t lasted beyond the final throes of orgasm, and the disgust in the young wolf’s face as realisation had hit him would haunt Devan forever.

  The fact that it had mirrored his own horror was irrelevant.

  Or was it?

  He’d yet to decide.

  And he had bigger worries than his bruised ego. Because it wasn’t enough that he’d hooked up with a wolf. No. He’d hooked up with a wolf in territory where the only shifters likely to be in the area were probably connected to the pack he was joining. Unless his fuck up had gone nuclear, and he’d shared his seed with a recon soldier from the enemy. Yeah, cos you’re that lucky right now, aren’t you?

  Devan’s only comfort was that since the wolf had fled the club, he hadn’t caught his scent once.

  At least not in the air. He fought the urge to sniff his skin, to chase remnants of the heady fragrance that should’ve sent him running in the opposite direction the moment he’d picked it up. Again, you’re an idiot.

  Devan was inclined to agree, but he’d run out of time to worry about it. A vehicle slowed to a stop in front of him. Blacked-out windows slid down, revealing the sharp shifter eyes of three men.

  “Are you the healer?” one said.

  Devan nodded, and the back door of the SUV opened.

  “Get in.”

  Zio skulked into the gathering hall. He was late, but the meeting didn’t seem to have started, and Varian’s scent was too weak for him to be in the building yet. Thank gods. Anxiety clawed at Zio’s chest. He rubbed it, torn between craving the comfort of his alpha and real fear that Varian would take one look at him and instantly know what a terrible mistake he’d made. That they’d all know—his brothers, his family.

  He scented the air again, and then himself, but found nothing to draw him back to the club two nights ago. His heart twisted again. Relief warred with a gutting sensation he couldn’t explain. And then disgust roared to life. He wasn’t a wolf. And he shouldn’t have even been there. You should’ve killed him, not whacked your cock out for him. Rubbed yourself in his—

  “Zio.”

  “Wha—” Zio jumped, hackles raised, claws out. Somehow he’d missed his brothers coming up on him.

  “Whoa.” Bomber backed off and threw an arm out, forcing Danielo and Michael to do the same. “What’s the matter with you?”

  Zio blinked, and his claws retracted. “Nothing. Sorry. Half asleep.”

  “Right.”

  Bomber looked far from convinced but let
it go. Danielo stepped around him and pressed his forehead to Zio’s.

  “What’s up, brother? We’ve missed you.”

  “I missed you too. Sorry I was gone so long.”

  “It’s been a week. We’ve coped. What about you? Where’ve you been?”

  Zio shrugged. “Around. I ran for a bit. Spent some time in the city.”

  “Manchester?” Danielo’s eyebrows shot up. “Did you find someone?”

  “No.”

  “Ah. So that’s why you’re in a shit mood.”

  “I’m not in a shit mood.”

  “Liar.”

  It was true—Zio was a liar. Of all his brothers, Danielo knew better than anyone that the only reason he ever ventured into the human cities was to get laid. And that he was a grumpy bastard when it hadn’t happened for a while. It wasn’t unheard of for Zio to fall into Danielo’s bed from time to time, and with Emma gone, he was Zio’s closest pack brother. If Zio was to tell anyone about the unknown shifter in the club, it would be him, but—

  I can’t tell him. I can’t tell anyone.

  “Why are we here?” Zio changed the subject, all the while absorbing Danielo’s closeness as though he could be a balm to his aching soul. “Varian hasn’t called a township meeting in months.”

  Danielo’s frown deepened. “You’ve missed a lot, but I don’t want you to hear it like this.”

  Varian appeared from nowhere and called for silence. Danielo clamped his mouth shut, but worry seeped from him and into Zio, adding to the turmoil he’d brought home with him.

  Zio glanced around. The hall was packed with wolves and humans, all residents of the pack township. Zio sought out his unit. Danielo and Michael were already close by. Bomber had wandered off. Sensing Zio’s unspoken call to him, he came back and flanked Zio, their shoulders touching.

  The familiar scent of Zio’s unit soothed him, but tension was pouring from his brothers in ominous waves, and as Varian took a breath to speak, dread bloomed in Zio’s gut.

  This is going to hurt.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Varian said. “I was hoping to speak to some of you privately before this meeting, but time has escaped us.”

  His gaze darted to Zio before it settled on the crowd again. “As you all know, our resident healer and doctor of human medicine was killed in action a month ago. While we have managed to recruit a GP from outside the township to join us, Emma was the last wolf healer in northern Europe. Filling her position has proved . . . difficult.”

  Zio took a slow, shuddering breath. He’d known this was coming. All shifter packs needed a healer to survive, especially in times of war. Being without one for as long as they had been was already a huge risk. If the southern packs had pressed their advantage instead of holding their newly won positions in London and the southeast . . . gods.

  Varian was still speaking. Zio shook himself and tried to focus.

  “The alliance has acted faster than we could’ve hoped for. Shadow Clan has sent a healer from their own ranks to join us, and he will remain with us at least until the war is over.”

  An uneasy murmur spread through the crowd, more pronounced in the wolves. Zio found Danielo’s arm and gripped it hard. “Is he serious? He’s recruited a healer from a non-wolf pack?”

  “From that weirdo hippie commune Shadow Clan has in Slovakia,” Danielo said. “Sorry, Z. I wanted to warn you before Varian told the whole world. We all did, but we couldn’t reach you.”

  Zio’s phone was in a canal somewhere near Leeds. After two solid days of replaying the last voicemail Emma had left him, he’d hurled it into the cut. When he’d finally begun to crawl his way home, he’d sensed Varian reaching out to him, his unit brothers too, and Gale, but he’d ignored them all, too caught up in—

  Oh fuck.

  Realisation hit Zio in slow, taunting waves. He dug his claws into Danielo’s arm. “When’s he coming? Is he here already?”

  “I don’t know. Last time we spoke with Varian, we didn’t know for sure that the clan would help us.”

  “We can’t have a healer who’s not a wolf.”

  “Technically, we can.” Danielo removed Zio’s hand from his arm and pulled him into a half hug. “Look, I know it’s tough to see Emma replaced, but we’ve got to think of the pack. We can’t defend ourselves without means to recover from battle wounds. How many times did Emma save each and every one of us? Without her, the southern packs would be halfway across Europe by now, which is probably why the clan has stepped up.”

  “True that,” Bomber said. “As long as we’re fit to fight, the southern packs are our problem.”

  “I think it’s more than that.” Michael spoke for the first time. “Shadow Clan of old could destroy the southern packs in one battle. Perhaps they’re not as powerful as we think they are anymore.”

  “It doesn’t matter how powerful they are,” Danielo said. “If they attack the southern packs, their peace with every pack, coven, and clan around the world will crumble. You want to go back to fighting werewolves and vampires? Cos that’s what will happen.”

  Most of them were too young to remember a time when the entire supernatural world had been at war with each other. The alliance between Shadow Clan and the wolf packs of northern Europe had formed to bring peace and to hold it as long as certain conditions were upheld. Danielo was right: military assistance from a non-wolf clan was never going to happen, which meant . . . there was only one explanation for the unknown shifter he’d encountered in the club.

  Encountered. That’s what you’re calling it?

  Zio bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. It didn’t matter what he called it, the fact remained that the man he’d been drawn to so intensely, that he’d shared come with, all the while so blinded by his scent that he’d been seconds from sinking his teeth in, from claiming him, was almost certainly the incoming healer.

  Fuck my life.

  Chapter Five

  Varian welcomed Zio into his home, a house set deep within the military compound, and directed him to wait in the office. The scent of his mate, Tomas, was close by, and Gale was there too. His unit hadn’t been at the meeting. In Zio’s latest act as the worst pack beta in the history of pack betas, he’d neglected to wonder why.

  Gale drew him into a hug.

  Zio returned his embrace, but as Gale’s scent hit him, he stiffened. “You’ve been with the healer.”

  Gale pulled back. “Sharp as ever. Yeah. I picked him up earlier. Smells weird, huh?”

  Zio couldn’t speak. The healer’s scent on Gale’s skin was faint, barely detectable, but it permeated every facet of Zio’s being. Varian’s office disappeared, and the darkness of the club consumed him.

  “I want to fuck you.”

  The man chuckled. “I don’t think we’ll make it that far.”

  “Zio.” Gale shook Zio gently. “It’s okay, honestly.”

  “How can it be okay? He’s not a wolf.”

  Gale sighed. “The others were freaked out too, but what are we supposed to do? Fight on with no way of putting ourselves back together? Why do you think Emma was targeted in the first place? Every wolf alive knew she was the only—”

  Zio’s hackles rose. His teeth sharpened and his claws broke free, drawing blood. “Shut the fuck up.”

  “Why? We can’t avoid facts.”

  Zio had made a point of avoiding facts from the moment Emma had died in his arms, but he couldn’t deny what Gale was saying. The bomb had been planted in the area Emma had set up as a makeshift field hospital, after the skirmish had died down and the wounded had been evacuated. Killing her had been the only tactical advantage to destroying it.

  He wiped his hands on his jeans, forcing his wolf down. “I know all that. But how can we trust an outsider?”

  You trusted him enough to get your dick out for him.

  Valid.

  Zio knocked his fist on the side of his head.

  Gale caught it and pushed Zio’s hand away. “Look, I get it. But
we have to face the reality that we can’t fight a war without a healer in our ranks. We’d be dead in days, and then what? I’ll bloody tell you what, the southern packs will overwhelm the north and kill anyone who gets in their way. You think Emma would be able to live with that? You think she wouldn’t have welcomed a thousand Shadow Clan into our midst if it would save a thousand northern wolves and their families?”

  Varian entered the room before Zio could respond. He glanced between them, eyebrows raised, though he’d have heard every word as he’d approached, his alpha senses stronger than the soundproofed walls of his office. “Have a seat,” he said. “Everything okay?”

  After a beat, Gale stepped back, removing himself from Zio’s personal space and obeying his alpha. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

  Varian nodded and turned his gaze to Zio, waiting.

  With a heavy sigh, Zio fell into the closest chair, facing off Varian to the front and Gale to the right, as agitation rolled through him. Chances were, unless the healer’s lingering scent had given him a boner, they probably thought he was reacting to Emma being replaced, but letting them think something that wasn’t entirely true unsettled his wolf. The effect the healer was still having on him was disconcerting too. It was a drunken hook-up, for gods’ sakes. And he’s probably a grizzly bear or a ginormous cat or some shit. Why can’t I forget him?

  “Zio? Are you with us?”

  Zio startled. Varian had moved to stand directly in front of his chair. He was staring right at him, his gaze as gentle as his tone. Zio swallowed. “I’m here.”

  “Good. Listen, I’m sorry you had to find out about Devan joining us in the meeting like that. I wanted to speak with you privately, but you weren’t here, and like I said, the clan acted faster than I expected them to.”

  “It’s fine. The pack needs a healer. How I feel about it is irrelevant.”

  “How you feel is never irrelevant. Not to me. To your pack. You and Emma were very close for a long time. Replacing her was never going to be easy.”