Gerald's Lot Read online

  GERALD’S LOT

  WOLVES’ HEAT

  BOOK 7

  A Novel

  Odessa Lynne

  ODELYN PUBLISHING

  GERALD’S LOT

  Copyright © 2017 by Odessa Lynne

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Except for quotes used in any review, the reproduction or utilization of the work in whole or in part by electronic, mechanical or other means is forbidden without written permission of the author.

  Cover design by Odessa Lynne

  Photo of greenhouse © Mrtwister | Dreamstime.com

  Photo of pine trees © Dovap | Dreamstime.com

  Photo of skeleton trees © Nikkizalewski | Dreamstime.com

  odessalynne.com

  Published by Odelyn Publishing

  odelyn.com

  First Electronic Publication February 2017

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations, events, and incidents portrayed in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales are entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  About This Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Also by Odessa Lynne

  About the Author

  About GERALD’S LOT

  Once every three years, humans become sexual prey to a species that has no control over the urge to mate because of a devastating attraction to human scent.

  For three years, Gerald has used his connections to gather intelligence on the powerful alien species humans call “wolves”—all in an effort to do his part to return order to the world after the destruction caused by the events of the first wolves’ heat.

  Now he’s been caught—and there’s only one way to earn forgiveness for his crimes and save the treaty between his people and the technologically superior wolves: Submit and let one of them claim him as a mate.

  It’s a hell of a blow when all he wants is his freedom. He just has to hope the wolf who claims him will be reasonable about letting him go after heat season. Anything else and he can kiss his freedom goodbye for good.

  Of course, now he’s just tempting fate...

  Chapter 1

  “I ought to fucking kill you,” Devon said from across the table Gerald had been sitting at for the past twenty minutes.

  Devon Fletcher’s eyes had a hard cast to them, and he had leaned forward on the edge of the table, his hands flat to the smooth wood surface, the tips of his fingers not that far from the foot-long stretch of chain that locked Gerald’s cuffs together.

  He figured the cuffs were Devon’s idea. The wolves certainly had no reason to need him cuffed and chained.

  Gerald flicked his thumbs one over the other and stared back, for the first time in three years letting Devon see that he wasn’t going to be cowed by a loud mouth or an empty threat.

  He liked Devon, always had, but the time had come to put an end to the man Devon had gotten used to seeing when he looked at Gerald.

  Gerald had been sitting quietly at the table before Devon came in, studying the warm lights above and the greenery that grew up the wall opposite the square bed. For a cell, his new room wasn’t half bad. Nothing like the temporary quarters he’d been assigned in the building on the other end of the wolves’ massive den complex, in an area reserved for humans during the heat season, but not a cold, sterile room like something he’d expect to see in a human jail.

  “They got what they wanted from you,” Devon said, hand fisting tightly on the tabletop. “But I haven’t.”

  Gerald shrugged. “I told them everything I know.”

  He’d always known if he were caught, he’d have to tell the truth. So he’d always made sure there wasn’t too much truth he could tell.

  Despite that, he had to admit, James was going to be pissed when he heard what Gerald had done and why.

  Devon’s mouth pinched tighter than Gerald ever remembered seeing it. He’d seen Devon in a couple of pretty tight spots so that was saying something.

  “You’re a goddamned traitor,” Devon said. “I can’t believe the shit you did just to—”

  Gerald interrupted Devon, giving him a quirk of a smile. “The drunken blowjob was fun, you gotta admit.”

  Devon’s scowl darkened further. His hands spread wide, probably to keep himself from reaching across the table and jerking Gerald up by his collar.

  Gerald understood the sentiment. He’d feel the same if he were sitting on the other side of that table.

  “If they didn’t fill you in,” Gerald said, “I really didn’t mind the blowjob. That’s one fantastic piece of meat you’ve got.” He smiled again.

  Hot color burned bright on Devon’s cheekbones. “They filled me in and you goddamn know it.”

  “I never did anything I didn’t want to do, so no need to feel guilty.”

  “You fucking asshole. What you did trying to get closer to Brendan—and whether or not you wanted to do it—isn’t my goddamn problem. The fact that you’ve been passing intel along to someone outside the den, that’s my fucking problem with you right now.”

  For the first time since Devon had entered the room a flicker of something that might have been betrayal darkened his eyes.

  Gerald smiled, gentler this time. “It wasn’t personal, Dev. I had a job to do, and I’m a loyal guy. I do what I can for my country. I like you. I like the wolves. But you’re not my people. The people outside the American Protectorate, the ones still trying to survive and thrive in the U.S. of A., those are my people.”

  That was really the crux of the problem. Devon wouldn’t understand, because the wolves were his people. He hadn’t had anyone before—Gerald had done the research. Life hadn’t always been kind to Devon Fletcher, and the humans who should have taken care of him, made him feel loyal to his own people, they’d been the worst kind of people humanity had to offer.

  Devon had found a good home with the wolves, and he was loved here.

  Gerald had family, even if he rarely saw them, and he knew plenty of good people. The States had his loyalty and he was willing to do his part to keep his country strong and powerful enough to maintain order, and if he was lucky, he’d see the world move back onto its axis and regain a measure of promise for the future that’d been coming before the wolves’ heat had changed everything.

  “You’re just goddamn lucky Brendan never did like you that much anyway. This would be going a lot different for you if he’d trusted you with anything important.”

  Gerald smiled again. “Gotta keep the smart ones from getting too close.”

  Devon’s nostrils flared wide and he smacked his hand on the tabletop. “You goddamned prick.”

  Gerald wondered how much longer Devon would hold off. Maybe it was the cuffs. He’d been expecting a punch from the moment Devon had stormed into the room.

  Then again,
Devon stormed just about everywhere. You either loved him for who he was, or you hated him.

  Gerald had a soft spot for Devon Fletcher.

  He spread his hands a bit and jangled the chain. “I take it they’re not going to let me stick around until after heat season ends.”

  Devon pushed back from the table, leaning into one shoulder on the hard backed chair he sat in and crossing his arms. The warm wood gleamed under the glow of the ceiling light. “Oh, you’re not getting off that easy. Fancy this, asshole. You’ve got two wolves ready to stake a claim now that Trey’s decided we’d be better off keeping you close rather than letting you go.”

  Gerald’s easy expression turned abruptly to a frown. He sat forward, pushing his elbows into the table. “What? Is that the reason for this little confrontation? So you can tell me they’re not letting me go?”

  “Somebody had to be the one to break the news.” A triumphant anger gleamed in Devon’s eyes. “Serves you right, asshole. You’ve been fucking your way through Trey’s wolves for years, probably gathering intelligence the whole goddamn time. Now you’re going to get to mate one of them.”

  Gerald bit off a curse. He sat back, letting the chain drag itself with a clack, clack, clack into his lap. “Fine. I can do that. A heat mate for old times’—”

  “Not as a heat mate, asshole. This is something else.”

  Gerald’s back stiffened. “Oh fuck no. I won’t mate one of them, not like that. That’s crazy. They have to let me go.”

  Devon smirked. “Haven’t you learned anything yet? You don’t get to decide that. When they fight it out, the winner gets the prize. That’s going to be your ass, pal, for as long as the winner wants it. I’m hoping it’s for the rest of your goddamn life.”

  Chapter 2

  Not every mating was permanent, that’s what Gerald kept reminding himself. Not permanent.

  He’d had three years to learn about the wolves and their variations of mating—what he’d call their version of marriage—and even though he wasn’t part of the inner circle of humans who’d allied themselves with the wolves, he’d learned enough to know that some matings lasted no longer than a typical human marriage—six months, a year, maybe three. Temporary matings weren’t that uncommon at all.

  Of course, he’d also learned something of their belief in the universe’s gift of a true mate. The stories had taken on mythical proportions for the wolves. They believed fate had a hand in those matings and only death could end them.

  Gerald didn’t want a mate, not one of the wolves. Sure, he’d seen some happy people hanging around. Matthew, Devon, the new guy Sal. Even Brendan if you discounted the fact that it was entirely possible he was only happy because he’d been brainwashed into it.

  Happy, Gerald could live without if it meant his freedom.

  He liked having choices, and he didn’t want to give them up.

  So when they came for him the next day, Devon grabbing hold on one side and Devon’s mate, Kem, on the other, Gerald decided to hell with calm and collected and he fought hard enough to make Kem have to take hold of the back of his neck with unyielding force and push him to his knees.

  “Not doing it,” Gerald said. “No way.”

  “You’re doing it,” Devon said, speaking through what had to be gritted teeth. Kem might be strong enough to hold Gerald, but Devon was just a man, and he wasn’t any bigger than Gerald.

  Gerald jerked on Devon’s arm just as Devon closed the cuffs on Gerald’s wrists again and a length of the chain caught Devon in the chin.

  Devon jerked back, bringing his hand up. “Goddammit.” Blood trickled between his fingers. He made an aborted attempt to kick Gerald but pulled himself up short before his boot connected. “Fuck,” he growled out, spinning away from Gerald.

  There was the lashing out Gerald had expected. The pang in his chest surprised him, and he stopped struggling for a moment as he watched Devon’s back.

  Devon heaved in a few deep breaths, his hands fisted at his sides.

  Three years had been too long. Gerald had gone soft on Devon, and it was too late now to pretend he hadn’t. Like a fool, he’d started to care.

  Kem’s hand tightened on the back of Gerald’s neck and Gerald snapped back into motion.

  Less than five minutes later, Gerald’s short-lived struggle against Kem had left him out of breath and shaking with unused adrenaline.

  “You can’t do this,” Gerald said, glaring into those bright green eyes, his heels a few inches off the floor and his weight balanced on the balls of his feet. Kem had him by the throat with one hand, and the other held tight to the chain between Gerald’s wrists. Somehow Gerald had managed to bust his own nose, and he could feel the warm trickle of blood on his upper lip. “The treaty won’t let you force me to stay when heat season is over.”

  “Traesikeille has already decided,” Kem said. “Your government broke the treaty by allowing you to enter our den under false pretenses.”

  “That doesn’t mean—”

  The hand at his throat tightened.

  Gerald shut up and swallowed, his gaze flickering toward Devon, who stood back, his arms crossed over his chest, his bloody chin set in a stubborn line with his jaw. Those eyes stared hard and cold at Gerald’s face, not an ounce of sympathy in them.

  He’d expected it, even wondered when he’d see it, but the lack of understanding in those eyes burned a hole in Gerald’s gut.

  “Your punishment is in our hands,” Kem continued. “Your government agreed to our offer of forgiveness. The treaty will stand—”

  Gerald’s stomach twisted at the look on Kem’s face.

  “—as long as you agree to abide by the terms Traesikeille is offering you for your own forgiveness.”

  “Shit,” Gerald said, already knowing he wasn’t going to like what was coming.

  “Submission,” Devon said. “You submit to the wolf who wins the right to take you as a mate, and they’ll forgive you.” Devon’s jaw hardened. “I won’t, but they will.”

  Kem studied Gerald for a moment and then eased his hold on Gerald’s throat, letting Gerald ease back onto his heels. “My mate has a difficult time with forgiveness. I can see that you hoped he would understand your actions better than he has.”

  Gerald tensed. “You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

  “I don’t,” Kem said. “But I would like to think you didn’t betray your friendship with my mate lightly.”

  “We were never—” Devon started.

  “We weren’t friends,” Gerald snapped. “He was an opportunity.”

  “You fucking—” Devon lunged at him.

  Gerald threw himself backward, and Kem let him go to turn and grab Devon. Gerald stumbled into the wall and then shoved off, using it for forward momentum.

  He raced through the door’s threshold, only to smack hard into an unyielding body that stepped around the corner. The unexpected impact knocked him back. The chain at his wrists caught and he tried to twist before he hit the ground, but it was too late.

  “Fuck,” he bit out as he skidded across the floor on his ass. His tailbone throbbed and so did his left ass cheek.

  A set of claws neared his face and he looked up.

  And up.

  A wolf Gerald had never seen before stood in front of him, huge, his eyes glittering with a fire that burned right through Gerald.

  Gerald had always found the wolves’ bright eyes attractive, the colors vibrant and unusual. He’d never seen a wolf with eyes so bright they seemed to glow even in the daylight. Red and gold flecks glittered in the eyes that stared back at him from a tight face with a sharp nose, and dark hair fell forward over the wolf’s forehead and teased the top of his shoulders.

  “Holy mother of God,” Gerald muttered under his breath.

  The wolf breathed deeply of the air, his nostrils flaring wide with his inhale.

  Gerald put his hands on the floor at his side and started pushing himself to his feet, ignoring the hand that had proba
bly been extended as an offer of help.

  The wolf’s fingers twitched. He pulled his hand back, but his intense gaze remained on Gerald, while his upper lip curled away from his teeth and a set of sharp eyeteeth came into view.

  “He’ll be a handful,” Kem said from behind Gerald.

  Gerald glanced back, halfway to his feet.

  Devon was somewhere behind Kem, but Kem’s broad chest blocked Gerald’s view through the doorway.

  “He won’t be my handful to worry over,” the new wolf said. “For which he should be grateful.”

  Gerald exhaled roughly. He returned his attention to the wolf in front of him and slowly rose out of his crouch. He felt a bone deep need for caution, much stronger than what he had felt he needed with Kem.

  But… Gerald had always been too curious for his own good. “Why should I be grateful?”

  The wolf’s nostrils flared again, his eyes flickering across Gerald with a lazy arrogance. “I have very little patience for mates.”

  A shiver of something dark and hot ran down Gerald’s spine. He clenched his jaw against the feeling and looked away. But then the chain at his wrists rattled and something tugged at him.

  He tried to jerk his arms free.

  The wolf had him, though, and he wasn’t letting go. “Do not tempt me,” the wolf said. “I don’t need a mate.”

  Gerald stilled. “I’m not asking you to mate me, big guy.”

  “The smell of you says differently.”

  “The smell of me is three days locked in a room without a shower.” Gerald grinned widely and made a vulgar gesture with his hand. “And I did jerk off a time or two—nothing better to do, you know?”

  Devon’s voice came from behind them, “Gerald, what the fuck are you doing?”

  Gerald lost the smile. Devon had a point. What the fuck was he doing?

  “Is this what humans call flirting?” the wolf asked over Gerald’s shoulder.

  The words startled Gerald, as close as they were to his own thoughts.

  “Shit,” Gerald muttered.

  “No,” Devon said. “That’s called being a sleazy asshole. Gerald’s good at that.”