by Odessa Lynne
Trey slid his cock out of Brendan’s hole. Brendan used his elbow to flip himself over. He spread his thighs, raising one leg to wrap around behind Trey’s ass and pull him in. Trey didn’t resist. He fell forward onto one hand and took hold of his dick with the other, jerking himself off with a few swift pulls. Semen splattered across Brendan’s cock and balls and a small pool formed in the well made by his belly button and trailed down the side of his abdomen.
“That was qui—ck. Ow, dammit!”
He glared at Trey, who had bit him over his ribcage, teeth coming together gently enough not to break the skin but still hard enough to sting.
“I’m not done.” With that, Trey positioned his penis at Brendan’s asshole and pushed inside again, giving Brendan no time to adjust before he started rocking himself in deep.
Brendan stretched out his neck and then startled when Trey immediately latched onto the column of his throat with those teeth, a low growl vibrating up through Trey’s chest.
Brendan swallowed and the points of Trey’s teeth bit in sharply as the tempo of his thrusts took on a frenzied pace.
Trey and his kind had to have excellent coordination, because he was able to take Brendan in hand again and jerk him off while fucking him across the mattress.
“Yes,” Brendan gritted out, an orgasm overtaking him fast. He came again, a few small streams of semen joining the smeared mess matting the hair surrounding his cock and balls.
When Trey came, he raised his head and roared, teeth gleaming under the light, and Brendan couldn’t help clenching his asshole around him as each hot stream of semen filled his ass.
A few minutes of heavy breathing later, Brendan was on the verge of drifting off despite the mess when Trey pushed himself over on the bed, curled up around Brendan, and put his hand over Brendan’s stomach.
“I can get food for us, if you’d like.”
“Thank God,” Brendan said, opening his eyes on a sigh. “My stomach’s been trying to eat a hole through my ribs.”
Chapter 13
Morning came, and Trey left Brendan alone in the room after showering with him.
He’d had no idea how to make the water flow last night until Trey showed him, or what to make of the gentle suction at his feet that drew the water between his toes and kept the runoff from puddling on the floor. He knew, without really thinking about it, that this wasn’t the kind of bath he was used to. But he liked it. Steam filled the small enclosure that had extended from a seamless section of wall close to the bed. The plumbing and walls had stretched up from the floor, slipping into place almost silently, a careful unfolding of a ledge wide enough to sit on if he wanted, water that could spray from almost every direction at once.
This morning, Brendan had enjoyed the fine spray at his back while he’d straddled Trey’s lap and rode his cock. Trey had kissed him until every breath he took tasted like Trey and he’d come with his own fist wrapped around his dick and Trey’s fingers teasing his hole where he was stretched wide around Trey’s thick cock.
His legs had barely held him upright afterward, his thigh muscles burning and his knees numb. But Trey had held Brendan’s weight off his ankle until Brendan had gotten back into a fresh pair of jeans and Trey had replaced the boot on his foot.
Later, when Brendan was resting on the bed in jeans and t-shirt and wondering what the hell he was supposed to do with himself until Trey returned, he remembered the way Trey’s gaze had flickered over the tattoo on Brendan’s thigh, the way his hand had very deliberately covered the scars while Brendan sat on his cock, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Trey hadn’t really acted shocked to notice the scars, but he had been strange about them in a way Brendan didn’t really understand.
Did Trey know what those scars meant? What had caused them?
Brendan rolled over and let his legs dangle over the edge of the bed, his boot thumping when the heel hit the floor. He hadn’t put his actual boot back on, because where the hell was he going if he did anyway?
Trey had quite deliberately ordered him to stay put, and if Trey had half a brain, he’d locked the door behind him. Brendan hadn’t tested that, but he had trouble believing Trey was naïve enough to make that kind of mistake. Brendan was an enemy of Trey’s people. No one was going to give him free rein on this ship.
He made his way to the table and picked up the glass of water he’d been drinking earlier. The water tasted crisp and metallic. When he’d asked about it, Trey had told him it was perfectly safe fresh water taken from a creek near where Brendan had been captured.
“So what, you resupply from Earth when you need something?”
“We traded medical technology and knowledge for the rights to settle in and exploit certain areas of your world, yes.”
“I bet that pissed off a few people.”
Trey studied him a moment before replying. “Yes, it did.”
“Oh,” Brendan said, figuring he was one of those people. “Is that really why I’m running around with a bunch of renegades committing treason?” What an ass he was turning out to be, if the loss of some property were the reason he’d taken up arms and started trying to kill these people.
“That’s not the only reason.” Trey had looked at him a moment longer, before a flash of light had come from one of the panels in the room and Trey’s head had turned, his attention diverted.
Shortly after that, Trey had gone, leaving Brendan to study the panels that seemed to work by magic when Trey placed his fingers on the silvery surface. Some were dark, with flickering lights like those he’d seen when he first came aboard the ship, but some were pale, and blue lettering flared to life when his hand came near them. Touching them did nothing, though, so eventually he wandered away from them and finally ended up on the bed, bored out of his mind after what had to be at least a few hours of mind-numbing silence.
He startled awake to the sound of the door opening and almost slid off the side of the bed. He scrambled to get his feet under him and turned, expecting Trey.
The man stepping through the doorway wasn’t Trey. The door closed behind him.
“Who are you?” Brendan asked. The guy was human, with a lean build, hair that just curled at the edges of his ears, and he wore boots much like Brendan’s single boot, with a black t-shirt, and jeans held closed by an aged metal buckle.
Brendan’s gaze stuck on that buckle, a faint shiver of premonition working its way down his spine.
“Brendan, I’m going to get into a shitload of trouble for this when Craig finds out what I’ve done, but I had to talk to you.”
Brendan shook off his distraction and raised his eyes to meet those of his unexpected visitor. “I still don’t know who you—”
“I was an old friend of yours,” the guy said, speaking over Brendan. “Devon told me how different you seemed, how you might actually have a chance and I—” The guy stopped. He raked his hand through his hair, as if he were unsure of what he wanted to say. Then he gave an abrupt laugh, just a sharp huff of air that seemed to Brendan to be more frustration than humor. “I shouldn’t care. But I do. I remember what you used to be like and you weren’t always such an asshole.”
Brendan raised his eyebrows.
“You fucked up, Brendan, and you’ve got to figure things out or you’re going to end up dead—”
The door came open again, and this time Trey did step through, along with another of the wolves, one Brendan was sure he hadn’t seen before.
The new wolf looked like he’d been in a fight recently, with half-healed scabs slashing across his forehead from one eyebrow all the way up into his thick hair. His vibrant blue eyes cut right to the man claiming to be an old friend of Brendan’s.
“Ian.”
“Shit,” Ian said, leaning his head to the side and closing his eyes.
“You aren’t supposed to be here.”
Ian reopened his eyes and spun around to face the wolves. “Craig. I had to try to talk some sense into him. You know
that.”
Brendan knew this guy. “Raider,” he said, the word slipping out with no forethought on his part.
Trey’s lips pulled back from his teeth.
Ian jerked and stared over his shoulder at Brendan, but that was all Brendan had. No other memories surfaced.
“Get him out of here, Craeigoer. Now.” Trey didn’t take his steely-eyed gaze off Ian.
Brendan tensed, the urge to open his mouth and argue forestalled by the look in Trey’s eyes.
The other wolf—Craig, if Brendan had that right—lowered his head toward Trey. “I apologize. Forgive us, Alpha. He still doesn’t understand—”
“Kem’s mate understands. This one—” Trey stopped speaking, but Brendan could see the tension running through him, the way his fingers flexed on each side of him. “You should go. We’ll discuss this later. Alone.”
Craig’s brow rose. After a moment’s hesitation, he inclined his head again. “Of course, Alpha.”
Brendan didn’t understand the byplay in that conversation but Craig sure acted like he hadn’t expected the reaction he’d gotten from Trey.
“I’m sorry,” Ian said, glancing between Craig and Trey, but ultimately settling his gaze on Craig. “I’ve known him since we were kids. I had to try.”
“I still don’t remember anything,” Brendan said, hoping his words would ease the tension between this person he was supposed to have been friends with and Trey.
Trey’s gaze shifted abruptly from Ian to Brendan.
“I understand,” Craig said, taking hold of Ian’s arm and tugging him toward the door. Ian didn’t put up a fight and he didn’t look back at Brendan as they left. The last thing Brendan heard was Craig saying, “You know the rules. Your heart’s too soft. You risked too much for someone who would—”
The door closed behind them.
Brendan eyed Trey. “The friend I betrayed, right?”
He wasn’t sure if he expected Trey to answer him or not. He thought he was putting his past together far better than he ought to be able to, and the only way to account for that was to assume his inability to access his memories might be a conscious thing, but that somewhere deep inside he could tell when one of his guesses felt right or wrong.
Which gave him hope, because he still didn’t feel like he was a truly bad person inside. There had to be some kind of explanation for everything he’d done. Something more than what he understood so far.
He wasn’t evil. He knew that. He knew. Even if he couldn’t explain that knowledge and even if every explanation from Trey seemed designed to make him think he was.
Brendan might not understand a lot of things right now, but he understood that as far as Trey was concerned, Brendan had been one of the bad guys. But Brendan had to have thought the exact same thing about Trey.
He wasn’t denying he’d probably done some bad things. But this feeling he had, it wasn’t just him trying to deny who he was.
Trey crossed to one of the dark wood chairs, sat down, and started removing his boots. “You let the rogue watchers ambush him. If not for Alpha Craeigoer, he would be dead.”
“I let them? How’d I let any of your kind do anything? It’s obvious you’re stronger and have more advanced technology.” Brendan was already shaking his head. “I don’t see how—”
Trey cut him off. “Craeigoer described your actions, and the watchers who swore fealty to him after their Alpha was killed confirmed the rest. Ian believes you betrayed him in a deal for technology, although he admits you didn’t claim those reasons.”
Brendan moved to the table and sat, watching Trey slip off his thick white socks. Brendan frowned. “So what were my reasons?” Then he waved toward Trey’s feet. “And what’s with the—okay, never mind.” He could see exactly why Trey’s socks had holes in the toe ends.
Trey’s claws retracted under his dark toenails as he curled his toes and flexed his feet. “We wear these socks and boots to fit in with humans. It’s taken most of us years to get used to wearing them. On our world, we would never have thought to wear anything over our feet. Climbing was too important. Here, we don’t need to climb. We have nothing to be afraid of here.”
“I want to know about your world,” Brendan said. “Why you’re here.” He paused, tapping his fingers on the table. “And what the hell you’d have to be afraid of.”
“A meal first,” Trey said, getting up from the chair and walking toward the panel on the wall closest to the door, his feet padding quietly across the oddly coarse floor.
“They’re like that so you don’t slip, aren’t they, because you guys are used to being barefoot?”
Trey looked over his shoulder and caught Brendan staring at his feet still. He huffed, the sound like a low laugh. “Humans favor slick floors, although only the universe knows why, when a single slip can break more than one of your bones.”
“We like to live on the edge.”
Trey’s brow furrowed. “The edge of what? Reason?”
Brendan laughed. “You actually have a sense of humor. I never would’ve guessed it.”
“It’s a legitimate question.”
Brendan deliberately chose to reply with another old-fashioned phrase that Trey might find humorous. “You’re pulling my chain.”
“I will never put a chain on you,” Trey said, his eyes narrowing under his arched eyebrows.
Brendan’s smile dropped away. He cleared his throat. “It was a joke.”
“Stealing a person’s free will isn’t a joke.”
Brendan swiped his hand across the slick table and stretched his arm out in front of him to rest. “I don’t think having my memories stolen is exactly honoring the whole free will thing. Not to mention this fate thing you keep talking about.”
“They’ll be returned,” Trey said. “We all choose whether to accept or reject fate. Your fate will be in your hands.”
He believed Trey meant what he said. But he also couldn’t explain the chill that seemed to settle into his spine and the feeling that Trey’s idea of free will and Brendan’s own didn’t match up. Another one of those things he just knew, without explanation.
Chapter 14
“That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard—I think,” Brendan said, scratching his jaw and staring at Trey with wide eyes across the table. “They could jump that high?” That high being high enough to pull one of Trey’s people right out of a tree and have him half-eaten before anyone could stop the creature chasing his pack through a deeply wooded ravine.
Brendan had winced at the sound of the creature’s name and then tried to pronounce it, but his voice had cracked every time he tried to hit the right pitch.
Trey had stared at Brendan and then laughed.
“Fucker,” Brendan had muttered, then had to clear his throat again because, dammit, he’d almost hurt something trying to make those sounds. But Trey had a really nice laugh, the sound sending a shiver of sensation along Brendan’s nerve endings that was an actual physical thing. More than pleasant. The vibration made his cock twitch.
Trey wasn’t laughing now though, as his story reached its gory end. “I lost four pack members that day. My Alpha and three others. Craeigoer and I barely escaped. After that, I rose in rank quickly because I chose to put myself between Craeigoer and the—beast.”
Brendan raised an eyebrow at Trey’s choice to keep calling the creature “beast” instead of torturing Brendan with the sound of its actual name.
Trey raised an eyebrow back at him and Brendan leaned forward to grab his glass of water. “Sorry. Go on.”
“Craeigoer was the youngest of the pack and he had only been with us for—” Trey hesitated, a small frown forming between his eyebrows, before continuing. “For about a month, I think, in Earth’s time.”
Brendan only had a little of the water left, so he gulped it down and replaced the glass on the table. The food had been okay but heavy, with some kind of cream sauce that tasted weird. Turned out not to be cream made from cow’s milk—whi
ch probably explained the taste. Brendan might not remember it, but he knew he had to be used to better tasting food.
But he kept his mouth shut about it and didn’t complain—too much. At least Trey seemed as happy to feed him as to fuck him, because Brendan was tired of being hungry. He’d had enough of that yesterday and the day before while trekking through the woods at Trey’s back—and over his shoulder.
“That’s the one that guy Ian called Craig, right?”
“Craig.” Trey sighed. “Our children will take human names in the future, so that we can share your world a little easier, but it’ll hurt to lose so many of the old names.”
“Why would you do that?” Brendan asked. “They’re your names. It doesn’t matter if we can—”
“It matters because the more that remains different about us, the harder it will be for some of your people to accept us.”
“That’s—probably true.” He’d almost objected but thought better of it at the last moment.
“You were asking about Craig.”
“Oh, yeah, I just—I don’t know, he seemed—you both look the same age. I mean, how much older than him are you?” Brendan couldn’t help but remember that Trey might have had at least one daughter who’d been old enough to have a mate.
“I had already had two heat seasons when his father placed him with my alpha’s pack.”
Brendan sat back and crossed his arms. “How am I supposed to know how many years that is? I don’t even know what this heat is.”
“It’s the time during our reproductive cycle when we can breed.”
Brendan looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath before looking at Trey again. “Come on. I know what a heat is, plenty of animals have a rut. I mean I don’t know what your heat is.”
“Every three Earth years we have our heat. My age in your terms is forty-six Earth years. We keep age by the number of heats we’ve gone through.”
“And that’s what?”
“Nine.”
Brendan sat lower in his chair and crossed his arms tighter. “O—kay.” He cleared his throat. “How do you keep age if you haven’t gone through a heat?”