by Odessa Lynne
Brendan glanced down the table to see the one Fletcher had called Kem staring back at him, his green-eyed gaze unwavering.
He swallowed and then said, “You guys have really good hearing, don’t you?”
“Better than human, yes.”
Which probably meant all these wolves had heard every single word he’d said since he set foot in this room.
“Thanks for the warning,” he said.
“You already knew this about us.”
Brendan remembered how much better Trey’s hearing had seemed in the woods. “It’s easy to forget. There’s so much I don’t know.”
Why was Trey telling him these things anyway? So his old friends—who didn’t seem to actually be his friends anymore—had mated wolves. Maybe he’d care when he had his memories back, but what difference did it make to him now?
“Their actions have proved they don’t hate you, Brendan, and so their mates will not hate you either.”
Oh.
“Craig is Alpha of one of my most powerful packs. Kem is the first child from my first heat, and he will be First Alpha one day.”
Brendan’s gaze flickered toward Kem again. Green eyes. Same build. The nose wasn’t quite the same, nor the brow, but enough that Brendan wondered why he hadn’t noticed the similarities before.
“Do I have any kids?” Brendan asked suddenly, the thought that maybe he’d left some kid behind a knot in his gut.
Trey’s eyes flickered, and Brendan was sure it was surprise he’d seen there.
“You don’t actually know, do you?” Brendan asked. He bit into another cracker.
“We questioned you. If you have children, you never brought them up.” Trey looked toward Craig.
Craig responded as if he’d been listening to Brendan’s and Trey’s conversation the whole time. “He does not. Ian talked a great deal when we had a…” Craig paused, his lips curving to show his pointed eyeteeth. “…vigorous discussion about breeding and offspring. He seemed overly concerned with the origination of my thirty-two children.”
Swear to God, Brendan choked on his cracker. He coughed, and then coughed some more, drawing the eyes of everyone at the table.
“That’s—” He had to clear his throat again to get rid of the rasp in his voice. “That’s a lot of kids.”
Craig shared a look with Trey. Brendan felt a strange dread settle in his stomach.
Rick spoke up for the first time in a while, “Alpha Craeigoer has the status to breed more than one heat mate each cycle. If he hadn’t mated a male, he’d be lucky to have many more children before his death.”
If that was true—
Brendan looked around at the nearly twenty wolves sitting around the long table. The math was terrifying.
Had he known the wolves bred so many children, back when he had his memories? Had this been something he would have worried about, because he sure as hell wasn’t imagining the churning in his gut now and he could say with near certainty that nothing he’d eaten had put that feeling there. And he’d been smart enough so far to stay away from the acrid liquid sitting in front of him.
“I’m pleased with the children I have,” Craig said. “I’m happy to make the sacrifice for my mate.”
“Any of us would be happy to make the sacrifice for a true mate,” Rick said, so solemn and wistful that Brendan couldn’t doubt his words.
Brendan’s gaze stopped on Kem again at the far end of the table.
Kem’s cold green eyes met his. “I have many siblings, both those of my father’s line and those from my mother.” Kem’s eyes tracked to one of the female wolves sitting about mid-table.
If that was Kem’s mother and Trey was Kem’s father—
Brendan stared at her, taking in the powerful look of her body, the voluptuous curves of her breasts and the glossy brightness of her amazingly pretty blue eyes. He clenched his jaw. He could already tell he didn’t like her one damn bit.
She took a long drink from her glass, head tilting back. The wolf across from her seemed fascinated by the long line of her neck. He’d bet Trey had held her down by the neck just like—
Fuck.
Brendan realized he was holding his breath and released it in a short huff. He forced himself to look back at Trey.
Add jealous asshole to the list of things he was learning about himself.
Brendan stared at Trey’s bright, alien—beautiful—green eyes. All the wolves had them, he could see that now. Eyes that made him take notice before he cataloged any other feature, from green and blue, to amber and gold. But no one had eyes as black as—as—
The thought slipped away, as ephemeral as steam. Someone—he knew someone who had beautiful black eyes. He cursed beneath his breath and shook off the thought. Another thing he knew without a memory to back it up.
“You have a lot more than thirty-two kids, don’t you?” Brendan asked, voice more breathless than he would’ve liked. There was a part of him that absolutely did not want to know.
“This is a discussion for another time,” Trey said.
“How can Earth support—”
“Earth is big enough.” Trey’s voice had an edge that made Brendan sit up straight and glance down. Trey’s hands had curled on the table top, claws peeking from beneath his nails to click against the smooth wood. Trey was pissed.
Brendan really had started to gauge Trey’s mood by the length of his claws. So knowing Trey’s current mood, Brendan probably should’ve kept his mouth shut. He didn’t.
“I don’t see how,” he said, easing his hands down onto the table, mirroring Trey. He had a feeling the gesture meant something to the wolves.
“Our scientists have made the calculations and we have technology that makes it possible for this world to sustain many more of us, along with an expanding population of humans. We’ve chosen our territory and your governments have agreed to our offers of trade. We have a treaty. We won’t abandon the basic instincts that have ensured our survival for many thousands of years. We’ll continue to have enough children to keep our species healthy and our numbers strong.”
“Enough to preserve and continue our technological advancements and our scientific studies,” a golden-eyed female said from farther down the table.
“Enough to stand against the humans who would try to force us to leave,” Rick said.
Trey picked up his glass, tilting it toward Brendan, liquid sloshing to the rim. “We can make this world better for both of our kind, if you open your eyes to the possibilities.”
“Okay, fine, I get it. You think Earth is big enough for the both of us.”
“We had a large, resource rich world,” Craig said, “but we’ve learned to live with less over the years while we were searching for a new world to call home. We have technology and knowledge of great value to you. Your governments know this. Don’t doubt that.”
The wolf sitting next to Craig nodded.
A moment of silence followed as the other wolves all seemed to be waiting for either Trey or Brendan to speak. This time Brendan kept his mouth shut.
“You welcomed us because we had more to offer than you could have hoped for from an alien species,” Trey said, swirling the liquid in his glass gently, “and there’s still so much we haven’t offered. So many ways we can help you—give your people a brilliant future you could only dream of before now.”
Brendan watched Trey’s glass and then his gaze flickered to his own. His mouth was dry. He needed a drink. He wanted a goddamn drink but he was still staring at the one he had as if it was going to kill him if he drank it.
Trey pushed Brendan’s glass toward him, the bottom grating across the table and the liquid lapping up the sides, as if he knew exactly what Brendan was thinking.
“Drink,” Trey said. “It won’t harm you.”
Chapter 17
Brendan hesitated to pick up the glass. He was starting to think he didn’t like trying new things.
Well, fuck that.
He picked up the
glass and stared at the clear liquid inside, making a point of not breathing in the scent of it.
In one quick motion, he downed the drink.
His throat tightened even as the liquid seared his esophagus and stole his breath.
And then the effects hit him and he could’ve sworn something was trying to tunnel through the back of his eyeballs. Then his cock took notice of the fresh hot blood flowing through his veins and a flush of pleasure, sweet and pure, washed through every muscle in his body.
He gasped in a short, shallow breath. “Fuck.”
“We call it Tears of the … Beast.”
Brendan was grateful Trey had used the nickname for the creature he’d described to Brendan a few nights past instead of the creature’s actual name, because Brendan wasn’t sure he would have recognized the creature Trey was talking about otherwise.
“It’s only one of many of the pleasures we allow ourselves after the heat season’s come and gone.” Trey swallowed down the remainder of his drink and then set the glass on the table hard enough to cause a sharp retort to echo through the air.
Brendan jumped. He didn’t mean to, but every sight and sound in the room suddenly felt crisp and clear and bright.
“God. I think I’m high.”
“You likely are. The drink affects humans quickly.”
Brendan giggled.
Shit. “I’m definitely high.”
“The intoxication won’t last. The fire in your blood will.”
“God,” he said again, drawing out the name this time. He reached down under the table and pressed the heel of his hand against his cock. Sparks of pleasure jolted through him. “I want to fuck.”
Trey wrapped his hand around the back of Brendan’s neck and hauled him up against the table. “Kiss me. Here. Now. I want them all to see your submission to me and know you are mine, whatever fate you choose.”
Brendan couldn’t control the shiver that raced through him. He blinked and tried to feel something besides the white hot rush of blood through his veins, but nothing else seemed important at that moment. Only the searing heat and the tempting lips a few inches from his own.
He kissed Trey.
As soon as their mouths connected, Brendan’s blood raged through his veins. He started to climb onto the table.
Trey shoved him back into his seat with a heavy hand on Brendan’s shoulder. “Not until your senses come back to you.”
“God,” Brendan said. “My head’s on fire. My dick’s so hard it hurts.”
Trey nicked the corner of Brendan’s lip with his teeth. Brendan hissed as the iron taste of blood hit the side of his tongue.
“More,” he said against Trey’s mouth. He lunged in again, feeling the prick of those sharp eyeteeth as Trey nipped at him again. He got his knee up on the edge of the table this time.
Glass clinked and something shattered. The platter slid to the edge of the table.
A voice echoed hollowly from somewhere far away, but then it was right up in his ear.
“The others have gone, Alpha.”
Sounded like Rick.
Trey pushed Brendan into his seat again. Someone’s hands settled on Brendan’s shoulders, a weight that held him in place—completely against his will.
He wanted to climb across the table and straddle Trey’s lap and ride him like he did every time they showered together. And he didn’t care who saw him do it either.
He dropped his head back, and his hair brushed against someone’s arm. He couldn’t stop himself from turning his face into the warm flesh at his cheek.
“God. What’d you do to me?”
“Be patient.”
“I can’t. Fuck.” Brendan rolled his head around and looked out at the vast universe staring back at him from beyond the window—not a window—a porthole, he thought. They’re called portholes. But it looked like a window. Why wasn’t it called a window? “Trey. I feel weird.”
“The feeling will pass.” Somehow Trey had moved and now he crouched beside Brendan’s chair.
Brendan tried to get up.
Hands pushed him back down.
“Touch my dick. Come on.”
Trey caressed the side of Brendan’s face, trailing his fingers along Brendan’s jaw. Brendan turned into the touch, the spark of warmth not quite as sharp as it had been just a moment ago.
“God. You feel so good. Do it again.”
“Of course.” Trey trailed his hands down over Brendan’s neck, the touch setting off a cascade of sensation that chased down through his nerve endings.
Brendan groaned.
Trey leaned in and kissed Brendan again, his hands gently caressing Brendan’s throat, one hand slipping underneath the edge of Brendan’s t-shirt.
Brendan tried to wrestle free of the hands holding him down in the chair so he could get closer to Trey.
He almost succeeded; his ass was half off the seat when Trey grasped Brendan’s upper arms and pushed him back again.
Arms clamped around Brendan’s chest from behind, holding him tight against the back of the chair. Rick’s face was right there, too close where he’d knelt behind Brendan, and Brendan took advantage.
He bit Rick’s ear, hard, and tasted the thick warmth of blood on the back of his tongue.
Trey growled, a deep rumble rising from his chest that sent an unpleasant rush of goose bumps across Brendan’s flesh. Trey’s hands caged Brendan’s face.
“Submit!”
Brendan grinned. He felt the laugh bubbling up before he opened his mouth and let it out. “Come on. You know you want to fuck me. I’ll let you—I’ll let you do anything you want. Anything.” Brendan kicked at Trey’s thigh. “Just do something.”
Trey’s nostrils flared and the dark pupils of his eyes dilated, while the green surrounding them became even more vibrant. Brendan lunged forward but Rick’s arms kept him in place like steel bands around a supply crate.
“Shouldn’t the effects be easing?” Brendan heard Rick say as Rick’s breath tickled his cheek.
“He probably shouldn’t have gulped the entire drink at once. But he doesn’t seem to be one to do things in half-measures.”
“He doesn’t give up easily,” Rick said, sounding strained.
The chair scooted forward under the force of Brendan’s struggle to get to Trey.
“God, just do something,” Brendan demanded. “I thought you liked me. Touch me.”
“Brendan, I am touching you.”
Brendan looked down to see his shirt rucked up and Trey’s hands on his stomach, their warmth an ember ready to turn into a flame in his blood. He could hardly breathe for the ache that started in his cock at the sight of Trey’s hands even that close to him. His abdomen quivered under the soft petting.
“My dick,” he said, breathless and pleading. “Please.”
“Not until you come back to yourself.”
“Son of a bitch. You’re so goddamned cruel sometimes. Just touch my fucking dick!”
“Submit!”
Brendan sucked in his breath sharply through his nose and slammed himself back against the seat, jarring the chair against the floor and into Rick’s chest. Rick huffed at the force of the impact.
“Submit, and I’ll allow him to release you.”
“I spread my legs for you in that cave. Offered up my ass. I let you do all kinds of things to me. Doesn’t that count? Ah, fuck—” Brendan stretched his neck back, trying to see Rick. “What the hell you doing?”
Trey answered for Rick. “He’s submitting to my will, as he should.”
What Rick was doing was softly dragging his cheek against the side of Brendan’s neck, back and forth.
Rick kissed the column of Brendan’s throat, his lips warm and his teeth a faint prick against Brendan’s skin.
Brendan’s pulse fluttered and the tempo of his heartbeat increased with a sudden burst of speed. He twisted away from Rick as much as he could, but Rick just followed him. “No. No, I don’t want—I thought I was yours—
”
Was that his voice? No way—no way. He sounded like he was about to—
Brendan jerked hard to the side, his heart pounding furiously, and his teeth snapped together hard enough to make his jaw ache.
“Submit!” Trey’s voice cut through Brendan’s growing panic like a knife through his belly. Trey grabbed him by the back of his neck and the touch grounded him in a way he wasn’t expecting but he felt immensely grateful for it. “No one’s going to hurt you. If you don’t want him to touch you, he won’t. You’re my mate. I would kill him if he ever tried to touch you without my permission and he knows it.”
“Forgive me, Alpha,” Rick’s voice sounded oddly timid. “I thought—”
“You are forgiven. This mistake wasn’t yours. I made the decision to allow him to have the drink. Go. Return to your duties.”
“Yes, Alpha.”
Rick released Brendan, but Trey was there to take hold of Brendan’s arms, stopping him from immediately throwing himself out of the chair.
“Should I send someone—”
“Go,” Trey said again, this time with much less patience in his voice.
Brendan got his hand down the front of Trey’s pants before Trey wrenched Brendan’s arm up by clamping his hand tight around Brendan’s wrist.
The awkward wrestling continued until Trey let out a harsh sigh and dragged Brendan up out of the chair.
Brendan didn’t even have time to grab at Trey again before Trey’s shoulder knocked the breath out of his lungs with an audible “oomph” and his view turned upside down.
Trey carried him through the corridors he’d traveled earlier with Rick.
Brendan shoved his hands down the back of Trey’s pants. Trey growled and Brendan felt the sharp prick of claws heavy on his ass.
Trey kept walking purposefully down the long corridor that marked what Brendan remembered as the halfway point in their journey, his every step thudding through Brendan’s midsection.
Brendan closed his eyes at the feeling of that warm skin under his palms and squeezed.
Trey slapped Brendan’s ass, hard. Probably meant as nothing more than something to distract Brendan, but Brendan wasn’t going to be tricked into taking his hands off Trey’s muscled flesh.