by Odessa Lynne
He’d told Mason to get there, anyway he had to, as quick as he could, because he needed Mason in case his plan went south. He’d included a map to the old biolab.
Mason scrubbed his hand down his wet face, unable anymore to stop the shivers wracking his body. He wished he’d kept the jacket. Fucking amateur move to toss it. The blood loss had obviously affected him more seriously than he’d thought.
Leaves crunched nearby and Mason’s heart started beating double-time. He sat up straighter. He was going to get this right, because he wasn’t up to facing the consequences if he didn’t.
He’d made too many fucking mistakes. He couldn’t afford any more.
Mason pushed himself to his feet with his back to the tree’s trunk and stood there, waiting. But if it was the wolf who was pushing his way through the brush and trees that made up this part of the forest, he didn’t seem to be in a hurry, and Mason finally got tired of waiting.
“I submit!” he called out. “If you’re looking for a mate, I’m right here.” He almost said more, and more aggressively too, but caught himself at the last moment and shut his mouth.
He pressed his spine into the bark. Just calm the hell down.
Only an idiot would antagonize a wolf during heat season, and then only one with a death wish.
Like most of the people he knew, he’d been to one of the heat cycle survival training sessions and he’d heard the rules: Submit if you want to live. Don’t run unless you want claws in your spine and teeth in your neck and two hundred pounds of lust-crazed wolf on your back. The wolves don’t want to hurt you, but during heat, they’re not reasonable. They either want to fuck you or kill you. Do whatever you have to do to survive. Remember: you fight, you die.
He didn’t believe it, not the part about the wolves being reasonable people. Because they weren’t. They were manipulative bastards who’d gotten the upper hand and they didn’t intend to give it up.
They brainwashed their enemies. They stole a man’s free will.
They turned passionately patriotic men into traitors.
He only had to look at Marcus to see it.
But Marcus was his brother and that was that. Marcus got away with his divided loyalties because Mason couldn’t bring himself to call him on them. Not after what he’d demanded of Marcus.
And that insidious whisper again: Not after what Marcus gave up for you. Marcus hadn’t been the same in the three years since, and all that was Mason’s fault. Every last second of it.
The thick branches of a pine tree thrashed wildly to his left, no more than ten feet away, and then a figure pushed its way through, the shape lost to the dark.
A beam of light streaked across Mason’s face, blinding him to everything before focusing at his chest.
“You know you just grossed me the hell out, right?”
“Oh fuck. Marcus. My God.” Mason’s thighs gave out and dragged him down the trunk at his back, bark scraping his spine the whole way. He almost sat on his ass before his legs regained enough strength to stop his downward slide.
He let his head fall back against the trunk and sucked in a ragged breath. “It’s you. You’re alive. Thank God.”
Marcus came closer, putting his hands on Mason’s shoulders, and the light strapped to his wrist blinked out. “We have to get out of here. Wolves are everywhere. I don’t know what’s going on but they’re out in force. Maybe they’ve heard something about this weapon and they’ve come looking for it.”
Mason pushed upright, reaching up with one hand to clasp Marcus’s hand to his shoulder. Marcus was real. This wasn’t a hallucination. Mason strained his eyes trying to see through the dark. “What happened? How are you here? I saw him stick that knife in you.”
“I shouldn’t be. That’s the goddamned truth. I should be dead.” Marcus grabbed Mason’s wrist. Pain shot along the gash in his arm.
Mason jerked. “Not that one,” he said, voice high and tight.
The hand Marcus still had on Mason’s shoulder squeezed. “What’s wrong?”
“I sliced my arm open when I wrecked the damn four-wheeler trying to get away from the guys I thought had killed you.”
“The other one, then. You have to feel this.” Marcus took Mason’s other hand and pressed it to his midsection. “Feel that?”
Mason’s fingers skimmed over a ridge of flesh nearly as long as his hand. A shudder passed through him at the knowledge of what it was. Marcus was right. He should’ve been dead.
“It just started healing, faster than anything I’ve ever seen. I don’t know what’s going on but it’s a fucking miracle. I thought I was dead. They left me lying in a pool of blood and my own guts and took off after you. A few hours later, I was making my way out of the woods where I’d dragged myself off to hide from the lot of them when I saw you come back. I waited for you to come out, but when you did you were running like you had a wolf at your back. But no one followed you out.”
Mason started shaking his head. “I do have a wolf at my back. The bastard was nice enough to give me a head start.”
His sarcasm wasn’t lost to Marcus, who exhaled sharply through his nose. “A wolf has your scent?”
“Oh yeah.” Mason wiped at his rain-damp face. “He talked like a determined motherfucker too. He’s going to hunt me down and claim me for a mate.”
Marcus darted a look over his shoulder. “Got an ATV behind the—”
Mason grabbed Marcus by the arm to get his attention. “What the fuck is going on, Marcus? What are we doing here?”
“Later. Let’s just get out of here. I have an ATV hidden behind the lab. I left it because I didn’t want it making noise that might attract the wolves until I knew you were safe. We’ll have to go back the way you came at least part of the way.”
“Not a good idea. I have no idea how much of a lead he’s planning to give me. Thought you were him when I heard the—”
A wolf’s howl echoed in the air, coming from somewhere deep in the woods.
An answering roar came from somewhere too goddamned close.
Marcus’s whole body tensed. “Shit.”
“You have to go,” Mason said. “If I go with you, that wolf’ll dog our trail for miles.”
“I hope you’re not fucking serious, because you know I’m not leaving you behind.”
Marcus grabbed at Mason’s shirt and turned.
Mason refused to budge. “I can’t. Just go. I owe you this.”
Marcus swung around and grabbed both Mason’s arms. “Goddammit, Mason! You don’t owe me anything for what happened three years ago. Stop wallowing in your fucking guilt over it. It was just the way things go sometimes. We thought we were in a war, for God’s sake. But we weren’t. We aren’t. You need to let it go. Get over this shit. I did it because I wanted to. You didn’t make me.”
Mason jerked his arms free of Marcus’s grip. “I know you did, but if I—”
“In fact, I liked it,” Marcus continued. “I liked him. He changed my mind about a lot of shit and I don’t care. I’m glad it happened.”
Mason stared at the dark shadow that was Marcus, breathing hard into the chill air. The rain had finally stopped, and the trees shed water with every last gasp of wind from the storm.
“I know,” Mason said, so softly that the words felt like a sigh. “I know you are, I know you did, and I can’t seem to forgive you for that.”
“Goddammit,” Marcus breathed. “I knew you were hiding something. I just didn’t think it was this.”
Chapter 5
Mason opened his mouth to respond, but a violent rustle of leaves directly behind them cut him short.
Marcus turned, too slow, as something large burst from behind the trees only a few feet away. Mason threw Marcus hard to the left. Marcus hit the ground just as a deer charged by them, panicked and breathing hard, racing away from whatever it was that had put the fear of death into it.
Mason stared into the woods beyond, throat tight and heart pounding, while Marcus exhaled a
groan, then rolled to his feet.
Marcus limped to Mason’s side, his hand pressed to his stomach. “Shit, that hurt. But thanks.”
Mason didn’t take his eyes off the woods. “They’re out there. We can’t go back the way you came. They’ve probably caught your scent now too.”
“What about towards that wolf of yours?”
“Fuck you. He’s not my wolf.”
“Not yet, he isn’t. But if it’s a choice between him and a whole pack, we’re going with him and hoping he can get us the fuck out of here. If he wants you, he’ll want to protect you and keep the others away. If we let a pack of them hunt us down, we’ll end up in the middle of a mating frenzy—and one alien cock in my ass at a time is plenty, thank you very much.”
Mason narrowed his eyes on his brother’s shadowy expression. He hadn’t missed Marcus’s sudden shift in tone and he knew Marcus well enough to suspect exactly what Marcus had planned. Marcus thought he was going to find a way out of this, and if that didn’t work, he would try to take control of the situation—but if he thought Mason was going to let him sacrifice himself the same way he’d done three years ago, he was fucking out of his mind.
Mason had fucked up three years ago. He wouldn’t be doing it again.
“Your plan sucks,” Mason said, “but it’s all we’ve got, so alright.”
He turned and started walking, then hesitated, looking the other way.
Goddammit.
He turned toward Marcus. The dark of night had faded in the coming daybreak so gradually he hadn’t noticed the light creeping into the woods, but he noticed then, because he could just make out the grin on Marcus’s face.
“That way,” Marcus said, pointing in the direction opposite Mason’s intended path.
“Shit,” Mason said. He turned and shoved aside an oak sapling that stood in his way, muttering under his breath.
Behind him, Marcus said, “Not like we’re trying to be quiet or anything, huh?”
Mason bit back a curse and shut his mouth. Marcus was right, as usual. The rolled-up EP display shifted at his side and he tucked it more firmly into place as he walked—much more cautiously than before.
He’d let his emotions get the best of him. He didn’t need to let that happen again. Too much at stake.
They walked, and it wasn’t long before the quiet of the forest became so deep and unnatural that Mason was having to force himself to keep moving. Every step he took felt too firm and too loud, and he found himself hesitating to put his foot down into the wet, slick bed of pine needles that covered the ground in this part of the woods.
Marcus slipped, landing on his knee with a soft thud and a grunt beside Mason.
Mason grabbed for him, but Marcus waved him off.
“You’re okay?”
“Yeah. Goddamned boots don’t have any tread left on them.”
Mason understood that. His own weren’t much better. There was a crack in his left boot that had let water in and his sock was still wet and uncomfortable. He’d been trying not to think about it.
Marcus regained his feet and started knocking pine needles off his damp knees.
“This isn’t the way I came,” Mason whispered. “We’re lost.”
“No,” Marcus whispered back, “this is the way, we’re just a little further to the east, that’s all.”
Mason gave him one hard look, then turned back to making his way through the trees.
Several minutes later, he said, “We should’ve come out near the building by now.”
“We’re almost there, I’m telling you.”
Mason grunted but let the subject drop. A few more minutes passed—too many—and the hair at the nape of his neck started to prickle. He twisted around, looking behind them, but nothing stood apart in the shadowy forest to explain the sensation.
“You feel it too?”
Mason looked at Marcus, then scanned the distance, squinting so hard his eyes burned.
A limb thwapped somewhere ahead.
He turned, quickly.
Shit. Shit.
Something was there, but he just couldn’t—
A wolf jumped down in front of him, straight out of the trees.
Mason yelled and fell back, his ass hitting the ground hard enough to rattle his spine.
Marcus grabbed Mason under his injured arm and yanked him backward, nearly falling over him in his effort to put himself between Mason and the wolf.
Mason hissed at the sudden pain in his arm but grappled hard with Marcus, getting his good arm around Marcus’s neck and trying to sling him to the side. “Goddammit, Marcus! Get out of the way!”
“Submit!” the wolf roared.
Mason stopped moving, his elbow locked around Marcus’s throat. Marcus stopped trying to pry Mason’s arm loose.
The wolf lunged toward them.
Mason cringed sideways, raising his shoulder instinctively to protect his throat, half-hiding Marcus under him. “I submit!”
“I submit!” Marcus said at the same time, his heels scraping at the ground as he tried to get out from under Mason.
The wolf tilted his head, sniffing at the air, then crouched over them both, his sharper-than-human eyeteeth gleaming in the low light, his eyes an incandescent glow. “What is this?”
His clawed hand came out toward Mason, only to end up on Marcus’s chin instead. He stared with those soul-searing eyes at Marcus’s face for only a few seconds before his nose scrunched and he flicked Marcus’s head to the side.
Marcus didn’t fight the dismissive gesture; he hardly breathed. Mason didn’t blame him. There were rules. Follow them and live. Ignore them and death became more than a possibility—it became damn near inevitable.
His pulse spiked when those glowing wolf eyes turned on him. Even through the faint light of early daybreak, Mason didn’t have any trouble at all recognizing this was the wolf from the biolab come to claim his mate.
“He looks like you,” the wolf said, “but he isn’t you.”
“That’s right.” In different circumstances, Mason might have been happy to finally have someone take notice of that fact. Everywhere he turned, he was mistaken for his brother—but in the end it was never Mason they wanted.
“Your scent,” the wolf said. He hadn’t taken his gaze off Mason. “There’s something about it that I cannot fathom. It haunts me as a memory that does not exist.” He nodded sharply, as if he had come to some decision, his gaze fiercely intent on Mason. “We’ll travel somewhere safe before we fuck, while I still have some control over my instincts. It will be safer for you and your kin that way. It will give me time to contemplate this memory I do not have. It troubles me, because we do not forget.”
Mason’s nod was hardly a nod at all, but the wolf returned it as if Mason understood everything he’d just said and then rose to stand over them.
Mason felt the moment Marcus started to open his mouth. He squeezed his arm tighter around Marcus’s throat and then spent several tense seconds wrestling to keep Marcus in place with his leg.
“Stop,” Mason hissed.
The wolf’s gaze shifted to Marcus.
Marcus stilled, but even through the shadowy light, Mason could see the stubborn look on Marcus’s face.
“Fighting for my favor won’t change your situation. I’ve already chosen my mate.”
The wolf returned his heated gaze to Mason and the inhuman glow in those eyes unsettled Mason to his core. Soon it would be too bright for the wolf’s eyes to glow, but although daybreak had come, sunrise hadn’t.
Marcus struggled harder, jerking Mason’s attention back to him.
“Your kin seems angry that I chose you over him,” the wolf said.
“He’s used to getting his way,” Mason said, “but he ain’t winning this time. You’re mine. He’ll just have to find his own mate.”
The wolf made a sound low in his throat and a rumble emanated from his chest. The vibration tingled along Mason’s nerves and he shivered, his body’s rea
ction sudden and unexpected.
Marcus made a strangled sound and tapped frantically at Mason’s elbow.
“You calling uncle?” Mason asked.
Marcus wasn’t able to nod but Mason felt him trying, so Mason eased the chokehold, letting Marcus suck in several deep breaths.
“Oh come on,” Marcus said hoarsely. “That’s pretty damn funny.”
Mason was half a second away from choking him again, because he couldn’t help how the wolf’s rumble affected his body—he’d heard that half the human population had an involuntary physical reaction to that particular sound—but the wolf moved, bringing Mason’s attention back to him abruptly.
The wolf had offered his hand, palm up, wicked claws jutting from beneath the dark material that made up the wolves’ fingernails. “Come.”
Mason didn’t take his wary gaze off the shadows of those claws even as he released Marcus.
Marcus scrambled to his knees and started rubbing at his throat.
Mason should’ve taken the wolf’s hand. He knew that. But instead he rose on his own, on shaky legs, and started trying to knock the leaves off his wet jeans. It was a waste of time. He was covered in mud and the leaves were stuck to him like they’d been glued in place.
A delaying tactic. He knew it. The wolf knew it. And if that shadowy, cautious look from Marcus was any indication, he knew it too.
Mason straightened, unwilling to take things too far. He wasn’t ready for what was going to happen, and yet… one look into those fierce eyes, even as hard to read as they were, told him it was definitely going to happen at some point, ready or not.
“You’re going to figure this out eventually,” Mason said, “but since I don’t want you getting pissed at me later for misleading you or something, you should know I’m not gay. I’ve never had sex with a man.” He shrugged one shoulder and gave the wolf a tight smile. “Unless you count my own hand. I’ve done that often enough.”
The wolf’s fingers curled and his eyes narrowed with what appeared to be surprise. He lowered his hand. “You aren’t attracted to males of your species?”
“No. I’m not.”
“Then it’s fortunate I’m not of your species.”