Brendan's Fate (Wolves' Heat)

by Odessa Lynne

But Ian had fooled around with some kid from school. A hand job and then a blowjob, and he’d told Brendan all about it, until Brendan felt sick with the knowledge that even though they were meant to be together, Ian kept choosing other people over him.

  So Brendan had finally fucked some slightly older guy who worked for his father—a spy for his father’s opponent, he’d discovered later, no less, and Brendan’s father had been unbelievably pissed when he’d realized what Brendan had been doing.

  His father had told him in no uncertain terms that he needed to find a way to fix his mistake by any means necessary, and then introduced him to a man on the election commission who stared too long and seemed to like touching Brendan more than he should’ve considering their age difference. The guy had been fucking old, older than Brendan’s father even. But Brendan had done the only thing he could think of and slept with the guy anyway, but then, as soon as the guy realized Brendan had made a veo recording of the whole thing, the asshole had locked him in a closet for two days before Brendan had managed to bust out and call his father to come get him.

  He’d had a phobia of being trapped in dark spaces ever since. And although Ian had noticed when Brendan suddenly couldn’t stand being stuck in a dark room, Brendan had never explained why. Ian never would’ve understood why Brendan had to let that guy fuck him, and Brendan knew it.

  His father had still almost lost that election even with the recording to use as leverage, and he had never let Brendan forget it.

  Brendan figured he’d already paid for that mistake ten times over, but his father didn’t seem to care and by then Brendan had realized the divorce was never gonna happen. The strong did what they wanted and the weak paid the price.

  A few years after that, only a week before Brendan’s seventeenth birthday, the wolves came.

  So no, traveling down into the depths of a crumbling building to save a wolf wasn’t the stupidest thing he’d ever done. Far from it.

  Thinking Ian was the one, that had been stupid.

  As had been fucking some asshole just to help his father win an election.

  When the state put out an arrest warrant for Ian’s grandfather after someone reported him for owning all those guns, Brendan had protected that old bastard, begging a favor from his father that had ended up costing him more than he wanted to remember. He should’ve let the homophobic old bastard go to jail, but it would’ve killed Ian, and Brendan couldn’t do it.

  That had been stupid.

  But this—this wasn’t stupid. This was what his heart was telling him was the right thing, and if it meant he was going to die down here in a pile of debris, then he guessed that was what was meant to happen, because he could no more ignore his need to be down here than he could ignore the way the building trembled with every gust of wind.

  A clatter sounded from somewhere ahead of him, and Brendan strained to see through the dark, even as the clouds slowly rolled past and the spill of moonlight brightened once again. Brendan’s gaze met glowing eyes and his fingers slipped. He grabbed the concrete tighter.

  “You’ll lead to the death of us all,” the wolf said.

  Not Trey.

  Brendan could see the wolf’s shape, but no details. Even under the bright moonlight, everything was washed out and gray, nothing but shadows. If the wolf hadn’t spoken, Brendan didn’t think he’d have even been able to tell he wasn’t looking at Trey.

  The wolf sat up and started shifting a beam off his legs, metal screeching against concrete.

  Brendan made himself let go of the jutting concrete and scoot on his ass to the edge of the piece of floor, then dropped his legs over the side. He’d have to jump, and hope to God he didn’t knock anything loose enough to fall on him and crush him. He couldn’t wait. That wolf might get free at any moment, and then Trey—

  Trey still wasn’t moving and he’d be an easy kill if that wolf freed himself.

  Brendan waited for that feeling of impending doom, that anxious churn in his gut, but the feeling didn’t come. He took a deep breath and pushed off the edge.

  His braced foot hit the floor first and although the brace took the brunt of the landing, a sharp stab of pain jolted up into his leg and hip, and he gasped from between clenched teeth, “Fucking … shit.”

  “You know we’ve seen the signs of what’s to come. The prophecy promises us victory.”

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Brendan said.

  “I’m not talking to you, human.”

  Brendan hobbled the few feet toward Trey and the other wolf. “Well, I don’t think your alpha’s listening.”

  “Traesikeille hears me, even if his body is too broken to respond.”

  Brendan’s heart thumped harder. He ducked beneath an angled beam, carefully gripping the rough edge, dust swirling on the air. He shimmied sideways through the gap and then eased down onto his knees beside Trey’s body.

  “He’ll heal,” Brendan said, but as he looked at Trey, his throat closed tight.

  One of the beams had crushed Trey’s chest and blood dripped onto the floor beneath him to blend into a dark shadow. Brendan touched the floor and a wet warmth coated his fingers.

  Brendan touched Trey’s neck and Trey’s eyes flickered open. A shaky relief washed through Brendan. Trey was alive. If he was alive, he could heal.

  A loud screak drew Brendan’s attention back to the other wolf. The shadow of the beam had moved.

  “The prophecy says the peacemaker and the true Alpha will mate,” the wolf said. “So everyone who supports Traesikeille as First Alpha assumes you’re the peacemaker.” The wolf grunted with the effort he put behind his next push of the beam and then his voice turned low, his accent harsh. “He mated you. Do you believe you’re the peacemaker, human?”

  Brendan mashed his mouth closed against the denial that wanted to come out. He studied the arrangement of the debris pressing in against Trey’s chest. He ran his hand under the beam and into the crevice where it disappeared beneath what looked like a mountain of broken concrete and twisted rebar. The grit dug into his palm and he hissed when a sliver of metal pierced a tender part of his hand.

  The beam went on for as far as he could stretch his arm.

  Son of a bitch.

  There was no chance in hell that beam was going to move for him.

  He pulled back and rolled the tension out of his shoulder.

  The glow of Trey’s eyes faded and Brendan quickly leaned in. But the light hadn’t died in Trey’s eyes; he’d simply closed them.

  Brendan found Trey’s hand and squeezed it. “You’re not exactly unbreakable either, are you?” Brendan blew out a rough breath and brushed the thick dust out of Trey’s hair. “You better not die, you fucker. You owe me a damn fight.”

  Trey’s enemy huffed a sharp laugh. “He could never kill you now. He mated you before you had to choose.”

  “What?” Brendan raised up on his knees and strained to see the other wolf through the tangle of debris. “What are you talking about?”

  “He failed his duty to his people. He let his memories of your human scent during heat cloud his judgment. There’s no other explanation for what he did. He mated you before your memories were unblocked. If you had chosen to fight, he would have died before hurting you.”

  Brendan watched as the wolf pushed at the beam trapping his legs again, his arm muscles bulging under his short sleeves, a deep rumble rising through his chest with his effort. Every shift of that beam had to be causing him excruciating pain, but he didn’t give up.

  He wouldn’t. Brendan knew enough about the wolves to know they gave up when they died, and not a moment before.

  He had the scars to prove that too.

  “I don’t believe you,” Brendan said, voice tight. “Trey would’ve done his duty. He told me so himself.”

  The wolf scoffed. “If he led you to believe he would have killed you, then he lied to you. Killing a mate is unthinkable. He would have died first. Any of us would.”

 
; At that, Brendan was the one to scoff. “Bullshit. You’re not so special that at least some of you don’t hurt each other. For God’s sake, you demand your mates submit whether they want to or not. You attack us during your heat—”

  “Believe what you will about our customs, but you humans are the cause of more heat fights and mating deaths than we’ve faced in—” The end of the beam slid across the concrete floor, cutting off the wolf’s words. A whimper escaped his throat as the beam clanged and settled lower on his legs.

  When Brendan peered closer he could see the shadow of one of the wolf’s legs, misshapen but free.

  The wolf groaned as his shadow moved. Brendan tensed, before realizing the wolf had lain back to rest, panting quietly.

  “Why would he let me think he was going to kill me then?”

  “Because you would never submit to his rule if you knew there were no consequences for your actions.”

  Brendan held tighter to Trey’s hand.

  “Traesikeille doesn’t deserve to rule as First Alpha and we’ll see him replaced by someone less sympathetic to you untrustworthy, weak humans. After all we did to help you when we came, you still chose to attack us and steal from us. Earth will be ours before the next heat season comes.”

  “Bullshit.” Brendan’s voice shook. “We’re not weak and we have a damn good reason to want you gone. You’ll have to kill us all if you think we’ll just—”

  “Then we’ll kill you all,” the wolf interrupted, sitting up again, and his tone betrayed no hesitation. “You’ll submit to us, or you’ll die. If you can’t share your world, then we’ll take it from you.”

  “We won’t let you—”

  “You can’t stop us.”

  “Bullshit. Trey said that’s not your way—”

  “Traesikeille will be dead,” the wolf said calmly, with only a slight catch in his voice as he heaved against the beam. “He’s dying now. When I’m free, I’ll finish him, and we’ll have a new First Alpha.”

  “Over my goddamn dead body,” Brendan said, before he had time to actually think about what he was saying.

  “Do not doubt that,” the wolf said. “He should have killed you himself for your crimes, and instead he mated you and let you escape. You won’t escape your fate again.”

  “I won’t let you kill him like this.”

  “Fragile, breakable human that you are, do you really think you can stop me?”

  Brendan clenched his fist and released Trey’s hand. His knives were long gone, lost somewhere on the floor above. His gun, too.

  “You’re not invincible,” he said. “The wolves who are still loyal to Trey will come and they’ll stop you.”

  “They’ll be too late.”

  “I’ll kill you.”

  Another huff of breath that sounded like a laugh in the dark. “You should start running now. Because when I’m free, and I’ve stopped Traesikeille from destroying our people, I will come for you.”

  Brendan clenched his jaw and sat back on his heels. His eyes fell on the end of the beam the wolf kept moving. He pushed to his feet.

  “I loved my father,” Brendan said, picking his way slowly, carefully through the debris between him and the wolf. “I never did like him much, but I was a stupid kid, like every other kid in the world, and I loved him because that’s what you do. You love your parents, even when one of them can’t love you back.”

  The wolf’s glowing eyes tracked Brendan’s movement.

  “But you know what?” Brendan continued. “He was always proud of me when I did what he wanted me to do. Whatever was necessary. I got good at that. Just doing things that needed to be done, whether anyone liked how I did it or not. Even him.” Brendan stopped, staring at the end of that beam. As he watched, the beam shifted another inch against the concrete floor, a grating screech clawing against his eardrums.

  “Sometimes we have to do things we don’t like, for the greater good, you know? Like what you’re planning. I’m sure you’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you? Until you can’t see any other way.”

  “Death before peace,” the wolf said. “The prophecy foretells it. Traesikeille must die.”

  “Lots of people have died,” Brendan said. “Thousands already.”

  “This is a war you started,” the wolf said. His gaze never left Brendan. He had to know Brendan was up to something, but he wouldn’t guess what until it was too late.

  Maybe this was going to turn out to be the stupidest thing Brendan had ever done. Maybe he’d never know.

  “I’m sorry,” Brendan said, and by God, he meant it. But he shoved at the thick piece of concrete balanced precariously near the end of that beam anyway, and the slow clatter of stone against stone grew until the shifting debris brought down a small avalanche onto the base of the beam.

  The wolf roared, the sound racing across Brendan’s skin and raising goose bumps everywhere. Then something heavy tumbled against Brendan’s side, knocking him off his feet.

  Then even he screamed as his leg was crushed under the weight of the concrete.

  Chapter 29

  Brendan came to abruptly, his eyelids coated with dust, his throat burning like fire, and his chest seizing with a choking cough that made his vision gray before he could get enough air into his lungs.

  He tried to roll over, but something caught his leg and he screamed. Then he passed out again.

  The next time he came to more gradually, the grit in his eyes painful when he opened them to a dark so deep he had to blink just to know his eyes were open.

  Drip. Drip. Drip.

  He rubbed his hands over his face and stared up into the dark, a panic he couldn’t control building under his breastbone. His hip burned with a cold fire that made him afraid to even try to move again.

  A wet mist kept hitting his face, and after a few seconds he realized what he was hearing.

  The wind had died down and it was raining outside. A steady drip was falling to the floor somewhere near him through the broken windows above.

  He got his elbows under him, digging painfully against the cold concrete floor, and raised himself enough so the coughing came easier but he still couldn’t see anything. Disorientation hit him hard.

  Where was Trey? He’d been sure the pile of debris was far enough from Trey not to fall on him but what if he’d been wrong? What if he’d crushed the other wolf and trapped himself here in the dark for no reason?

  What if Trey had died anyway?

  Hot tears burned his eyes. From the grit, from the pain in his leg. From the pain in his heart at the thought of losing something he’d never really had.

  A clatter nearby sent his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat.

  He wedged himself upright on one arm. “Who’s there?”

  No one answered.

  He scrubbed at his face with his hand, and then yelled into the dark, “You better be dead, wolf! If I got myself stuck here for nothing, I’m gonna be pissed!”

  Another clatter sounded and Brendan jumped. The movement stabbed at his leg and he couldn’t catch his breath for several seconds as a wave of nausea rolled through him.

  Was he going to die here?

  He dropped back to the floor and stared up where the faintest glimmer of light outlined the edges of the grimy, broken windows high above.

  “Your fate will find you under a broken moon,” Trey’s Diviners had said. “The night won’t end when the sun rises, but the day will come anyway.”

  He was trapped.

  It could be day already and he wouldn’t know it, because the gloom of the cloud cover wouldn’t let the light penetrate into the depths of the old factory.

  He felt the old panic break free. He pounded the side of his fists against the floor, seeking relief from the tightness in his chest.

  “Help!” he yelled. “Help! We’re trapped down here!”

  He kept yelling until his voice gave out and his hands ached and his head swam and he finally passed out again.

/>   Brendan wasn’t sure what happened between the panic and the next time he opened his eyes but something major had clearly happened.

  Light shone into his eyes with a brightness that blinded him and noise echoed all around. He closed his eyes again. The excruciating pain in his leg had eased, but his fingers were cold and his throat and neck hurt and after a single aborted attempt to twist a stabbing kink out of his back that stole his breath, he didn’t try to move.

  “We have him,” someone said.

  The accent brought Brendan’s attention into a stark focus. Wolves.

  “You turned your back on your fate,” someone said nearby. “Reconsider your decision. Swear your fealty to Traesikeille and you don’t have to die here.”

  Brendan couldn’t hear the answer, but he heard that sharp voice again, accent heavy, “Traesikeille says he did this to you. You’re a watcher. You must recognize the signs.”

  Brendan couldn’t make sense of what he was hearing so he didn’t try. He heard the rumble of voices moving around him, and the occasional clatter of debris shifting.

  Then hands touched him and his eyes snapped open.

  “You’re almost free,” a bright-eyed wolf said to him, his teeth glinting in the light that cut across his face. “Traesikeille will be happy to see you.”

  “He’s—” A coughing fit stopped him from finishing his question.

  The wolf held him to the ground with a strength Brendan had no interest in fighting. “You can’t move. You have significant injuries that’ll have to be seen to before you do.”

  Brendan nodded to show he understood. His thoughts felt like they were floating through this head. He tried speaking again. “Trey’s alive?”

  “First Alpha is healing. But he’s waiting outside. Alpha Craeigoer and Alpha Paetarikeille wouldn’t allow him to stay.” The wolf’s lips pulled back, exposing more of his teeth. “Even weakened by his injuries, he put up a great fight to be with you.”

  “Fucking … idiot.” Brendan sighed and then blinked a few times. “Have I been drugged?”

  “Of course. You would be in terrible pain otherwise.”

  Brendan shook his head, closing his eyes again, but then he had to reopen them quickly. A dizzy disorientation made him curl his fingers against the cold concrete beneath him.