Brendan's Fate (Wolves' Heat)

by Odessa Lynne

  “I’m a coward,” Brendan said, tightening his fist. “I don’t want to face this shit. I don’t want to know what happened. I want it to go away.”

  Trey took hold of the back of Brendan’s neck with one hand, his fingers warm and strong, and tugged the gun from Brendan’s holster with the other. “You are mine,” Trey said, “and you will face your past when the time comes. I have faith in the universe that the man you were dies a little more with every moment you spend without him in your head. You will choose submission.”

  “You can’t know that. Not until—”

  “You will never be him again.” Trey stopped any further objection Brendan might have given with a kiss, his mouth hot and his teeth a sharp bite against Brendan’s lip. He could smell the dark tang of iron on the back of his tongue and he wondered just how much blood Trey had lost to his injuries.

  Somewhere behind the pounding of Brendan’s heartbeat, he heard a yell. Matthew had come to. Brendan tried to pull out of the kiss, but Trey held him tight by the back of his neck, claws a faint prink at the top of his spine and all his memories from last night swelled up inside him. His cock responded, and his body flushed with warmth.

  Trey believed what he said. Otherwise, Brendan couldn’t believe Trey would have been kissing him, if what Brendan thought the scene earlier meant he’d done.

  But Brendan wasn’t ready to accept that his memories were the only thing that made him who he was. And if they weren’t, then where would that leave him when he was able to remember?

  Chapter 10

  Matthew’s strident yelling got louder, and Brendan heard Fletcher call out, “Kem! Goddammit. Sit on him or something, would you?”

  Brendan winced and tried again to pull back, but Trey’s strong hold didn’t ease. Instead, Trey deepened the kiss, using his tongue to part Brendan’s lips and Brendan reacted without thought, opening his mouth to the hot, wet touch of flesh, and breathing in a shallow gasp of air when he had to.

  Brendan had a feeling the continued kiss was less about pleasure and more about showing anyone watching that Brendan had submitted to Trey.

  Matthew made another sound like a choked sob.

  Only then did Trey release Brendan from the kiss.

  Trey dragged his nose across Brendan’s skin, his breath caressing Brendan’s cheek as he sniffed across Brendan’s face toward his ear. “I can smell him on you, but you’re mine now. You submit to me.”

  Brendan stared at Trey but didn’t say anything. His confusion had only deepened in the last few hours. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip and tasted Trey there.

  Trey tilted Brendan’s head back and took a slow sniff of Brendan’s throat. Brendan could feel the ridge of Trey’s nose grazing his Adam’s apple before Trey withdrew. “The rest of my packs will continue to hold off the rogue watchers so I can get you away from here.”

  Rogue watchers? Brendan didn’t understand what that meant.

  With little effort, Trey turned Brendan in his arms to face Matthew, who was sprawled on the ground under the weight of Kem’s knee. Trey’s arms caged Brendan in place, one at Brendan’s waist and the other snug across Brendan’s chest. He made one aborted effort to step out of Trey’s arms before he realized how strong Trey’s casual hold on him actually was.

  Brendan shivered when Trey breathed across the side of his neck. “He wants you,” Trey said quietly, for only Brendan to hear, “but you don’t want him, do you?”

  Brendan had to clear his throat to speak. His cock filled out his pants and the fact that anyone could see how hard he was behind his fly made him clench his teeth. But he shook his head and said, quietly, “No.”

  “I didn’t think so.” Trey’s teeth nipped the flesh at the top of Brendan’s spine, and Brendan jerked, then shivered again at the unexpectedness of Trey’s hot, wet tongue on his skin.

  The sensation made him feel uncomfortably vulnerable, uncertain of Trey’s next move.

  Trey jostled Brendan closer.

  Trey’s dick was just as hard as his. Trey’s hand flattened over Brendan’s chest, fingers only a inch from grazing a nipple through Brendan’s t-shirt.

  “Release him, Wentarki.” Another set of syllables Brendan couldn’t decipher. He was almost certain now that the sounds were names in Trey’s language.

  Fletcher’s wolf removed his knee from the center of Matthew’s chest and stepped back.

  Fletcher looked to the wolf for direction and after a short nod, he backed off too.

  Matthew scrambled to his feet, snarling at Fletcher. “You goddamned traitor. How could you let them do this to him? You know how he’s going to feel about—”

  “Enough,” Trey said. “You can stay behind when we leave.”

  Matthew shut his mouth and glared at Trey, hands at his sides. Brendan could see a tremor in his fingertips, highlighted by the harsh light spilling over him from the nearest light source.

  The wolf who had carried Matthew earlier reached for the back of Matthew’s neck.

  Matthew shrugged and then knocked the wolf’s hand away.

  Fletcher gave him a look that said as clear as words that he thought Matthew was an idiot.

  “I can’t go back without Brendan,” Matthew said, and his voice sounded thick and strained. “Jay’ll probably kill me.”

  “Then submit and come with us.”

  “I—” Matthew turned wide eyes on Brendan. “I can’t.”

  “If you can’t submit, you will stay behind,” Trey said, tone harsh and uncompromising. “We won’t hurt you. I can’t say the same for those who’ve aligned with your renegades.”

  “Just do it,” Brendan said, the order falling off his tongue with little effort. “No sense in letting yourself get killed because you don’t want to follow orders.”

  “It’s not—” Matthew said, but stopped short of finishing the thought. He raked both hands through his hair, a hesitation in his movement and then a jerk of his arms as he came to some kind of decision. “Goddammit, fine, I submit. I want to come with you.”

  The wolf beside Matthew clamped his hand around the back of Matthew’s neck and Matthew tensed, but this time he didn’t resist.

  Trey’s arms tightened on Brendan, but he addressed the wolf with Matthew. “You’ll be responsible for him. Keep him away from Brendan.”

  “What? That’s not—”

  “Ask Brendan if he wants you,” Trey said, as if he had no doubt what Brendan’s answer would be.

  Brendan clenched his jaw but he already knew he wouldn’t dispute Trey and give Matthew false hope.

  Matthew crossed his arms. “No, fucker, I won’t. You’ve got him so messed up in the head he won’t have any idea what he’s saying.”

  The wolf holding Matthew’s neck must have squeezed, because Matthew hissed and reached back.

  “Alpha deserves your respect,” the wolf said. “Submit.”

  “Ask him,” Trey repeated.

  Matthew’s tongue came out and he licked his bottom lip, mouth open as he waffled in apparent indecision. The wolf holding Matthew stared at the side of his face, an air of patience in the way he held himself but his expression unreadable in the light washing over the sharp bones of his face and the shadows left behind.

  “Okay,” Matthew said. “Okay. Brendan, I know you can’t remember anything—I know that. But you can’t want—”

  “That’s not a question,” Trey cut him off. He said something indecipherable to the wolf at Matthew’s side. Then, “Tell him, Brendan.”

  Brendan startled. “What?” he said, before he realized he knew exactly what Trey wanted him to do. “That’s—”

  Cruel, he wanted to say, but Trey moved his arm up and his fingers grazed the side of Brendan’s face, the faint scrape of claws against skin making Brendan draw in a shallow breath. A threat or reassurance? He couldn’t tell, didn’t know Trey well enough to understand the meaning of his action without a look at his face, but Trey’s chest still pressed tight to Brendan’s back and
Trey’s other arm hadn’t loosened around his waist. A damp heat seeped into the back of his shirt, and he had the sudden realization that it was probably Trey’s blood soaking through.

  Trey kissed the side of Brendan’s neck and then dragged his teeth along the skin there. The sensation swept through Brendan’s body, and blood started to harden his cock again. There was no way anyone wouldn’t notice the dominance implicit in the gesture.

  “Matthew…” Brendan said, swallowing hard past the tensing of his throat. “I’m sorry, but I don’t even know you. He—”

  “Fucker has you confu—” Matthew started, but the rest of his words were lost in a strangled gasp as the wolf holding his neck took offense at Matthew’s exclamation. “Fucking wolf! That hurts!”

  “You should have listened. Don’t insult Alpha.”

  Fletcher’s grating voice brought Brendan’s attention back to him. “Matt, get yourself together, asshole, unless you’ve changed your mind about staying behind. If you keep acting like a dumbass, that’s what’s going to happen. This—” Fletcher jerked his arm in Brendan’s direction. “This isn’t Brendan. We might not ever see the old Brendan again from what I hear. Get used to it.”

  Fletcher’s flat tone was too hard to figure out this time and Brendan couldn’t tell if Fletcher cared one way or the other what happened to him. But the words themselves sent a chill through him, and he couldn’t stop himself from tensing up.

  Trey’s hold eased before tightening again and his hand slid down Brendan’s jaw to curl around his throat—too intimidating to be dismissed, but strangely comforting all the same, the only thing remotely familiar in the world around him.

  “Don’t be afraid of your fate,” Trey whispered across his ear. “Do not forget, the choice will be yours.”

  Matthew’s mouth pinched and he looked like he was on the verge of saying or doing something he’d probably regret.

  But then Trey’s head came up, his attention suddenly elsewhere, and the other wolves came to attention abruptly.

  A distant howl cut through the night air and that was that.

  Chapter 11

  Trey took hold of Brendan’s neck to turn him again and walked with him through another copse of trees thick with undergrowth. His wolves followed, along with Fletcher and Matthew.

  “Step up,” Trey said.

  A small platform hung suspended from a collection of silvery cables, thin and glittery with a faint glow in the dark. He stepped up through the open front, and onto the flat platform. From the inside he could see additional fine cable woven like a net from knee to shoulder.

  Trey stepped in behind him. “This will take your breath,” he said. “Don’t be afraid.”

  Several other wolves climbed onto the platform behind and beside them, jostling Brendan closer to Trey. Several remained behind, including Fletcher and his wolf and Matthew and his keeper.

  Within seconds, the platform started to rise from the ground, swift and sure, and Trey had been exactly right, because Brendan’s breath whooshed from his body and his stomach seemed to stay behind while the platform rushed upward through and above the gap in the trees. He glanced up and saw the bottom of what had to be a ship and then they were almost up on it and another second and they slid right up into a hole and the cables and platform clanged into place with a soft jolt.

  He looked around the sterile looking room and had the stomach churning realization that he was on an alien spaceship and he had no idea what Trey planned to do with him.

  The cable netting retracted into the base of the platform.

  Trey gripped Brendan’s arm and led him down a step at the edge of platform to the silver and blue floor of the ship, then left Brendan standing alone near a freestanding column of cables and—something that looked like a wall of little raised dots, arranged in neat rows.

  Dark panels and see-through compartments lined the walls of the narrow but long room. Pressure suits and air tanks, and things he couldn’t recognize at all filled the spaces. Lights flickered across the panels, like fireflies winking in the dark.

  After the other wolves descended from the platform, five took a left and headed down a long corridor that Brendan could see from where he stood, bright colored lights flashing a welcome—or some other signal—as the wolves passed, while the rest of the wolves broke off into two groups of three and took up positions a few feet to each side of Brendan.

  Guards? Escorts? Brendan felt the pinch between his eyebrows as he stared at the wolves. He wasn’t sure, but—betas. The thought came quickly then, with an acute sense of relief. They were betas. He knew that. He knew these guys were probably Trey’s betas, and that meant—

  That meant—

  He struggled to get the thought back, but it was too late. Whatever he’d been on the verge of figuring out had gone as fast as it had come.

  A loud clang echoed and Brendan startled, turning to see the platform whirring downward again.

  Trey had returned to stand beside him. “As soon as the others arrive, we’re leaving. It isn’t safe to bring the ships into the atmosphere like this.”

  “Safe for who?” Brendan asked, with a glance at the clearly advanced technology lining the room.

  “Safe for us.” Trey’s eyes gleamed under the lights. “The renegades like to try to bring the ships down. It happened once; it will not happen again.”

  “Your ship,” Brendan said.

  Trey’s lips pulled back, exposing the points of his eyeteeth. “No, that wasn’t your people.”

  “Oh. A different ship then.”

  “A long time ago.”

  “How long?” Brendan glanced around again. “I don’t even know how long you’ve been here. All my life? A few years?”

  “Eight years.”

  Brendan frowned. “That’s not that long.”

  “Long enough for Earth to start to feel like home.” Trey’s mouth curved at the corner. Maybe it was a smile, but Brendan wasn’t actually sure of that. A few of Trey’s facial expressions were very similar to human, but a few … a few weren’t so easy to interpret.

  “You need to rest.” Trey gestured toward the corridor to the right. “Come with me.”

  “I’m fine,” Brendan said, limping along beside Trey.

  They walked to the end of the corridor to a doorway, where Trey pressed two fingers to a small panel and the door slid open.

  Brendan followed him through and into another corridor. All around him, surfaces gleamed with the sheen of polished glass. Flat cables stretched across the ceiling and walls, running from one device to the next, in smooth flat lines. Lights, like the ones he’d seen flash earlier, flickered blue and orange as Trey passed. The sound of his boots muffled against the floor and the air smelled of nothing so much as it just smelled cool and clean.

  A door opened at the end of the corridor and he stopped staring at his surroundings long enough to note the way Trey moved to the side.

  “Through here,” Trey said.

  Brendan passed by him, and turned, but the door was already closing and all he saw was Trey stepping back into the center of the corridor as Brendan’s view was cut off.

  “Son of a—” He bit off the rest of his curse and lunged at the door.

  Brendan tried to prize the door apart, but he couldn’t budge the panels. He slapped the door a few times with the flat of his hand until his palm tingled hot and painful.

  He opened his mouth to yell, and then changed his mind, giving the door a single kick with his booted foot before turning around.

  He was in someone’s private quarters. Probably something made up for Trey, as First Alpha. A low round bed in a corner overflowed with pillows and fabrics that weren’t quite like anything Brendan had ever seen before, the colors vibrant, glittering with every shift of the cool air swirling around him.

  A couple of chairs, not upholstered, made of a deep, dark wood crouched nearby. He walked over to one and ran his hand along the smooth surface, and his hand glided over the gleam
ing wood.

  He stripped off the tight vest and dropped it to the floor beside him, then sat down, crossed his arms, and waited, because he didn’t know what else to do.

  He sure as hell wasn’t waiting on the bed. He had his pride, and he wasn’t going to turn into some kind of—of—

  God, what was he trying to remember? He could feel the churning of emotion just beneath the surface, his stomach roiling with it, but he couldn’t grasp the thought.

  He sat there and fumed for a while about being left behind, until his thoughts drifted to other things: hotter, dirty things he’d like to have Trey do to him—for God’s sake, what was with the kinky sex fantasies that kept flitting through his mind? Trey, his hand on Brendan’s ass, making it burn just like he’d done before, but this time with a mind toward Brendan getting off to the hard smack of palm to—

  Fuck.

  He adjusted his cock in his pants, recrossed his arms, and then stared up at the low ceiling and the softly glowing light that emanated downward.

  He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but the sound of the door opening made him jolt upright in the chair, a dizzying sense of vertigo hitting him hard. He’d almost dozed off.

  Maybe he had.

  “You should have rested in the bed,” Trey said, as the door closed behind him.

  Brendan tensed, arms tightening across his chest. “You should have told me what the hell you were doing.”

  Trey watched him from his position near the door. “You’re right. I should have.”

  “Then why didn’t you? It’s not like I’ve been fighting you on much of anything.”

  “I didn’t think you would understand. You don’t need to spend too much time with your friend at the moment. He had to be reminded of his agreement. I suspected he would argue.”

  “Matthew?” Brendan scoffed. “Why the hell not? There’s nothing there. Not while I don’t have my memories.”

  Trey stilled, but then he nodded and thumbed something on the silvery panel beside the door. “Yes, Matthew.”