Matthew's Chance (11 page)

Matthew hoped to God Ash hadn’t killed Alpha, but…

If one of them had to die, at least it wouldn’t be Ash.

Matthew scrambled up on his knees, and Ash’s head raised, eyes glowing brightly with the reflection of moonlight.

Matthew stilled completely, hardly daring to breath. The rough edge of a brick pressed at the side of his knee through his jeans.

Ash’s pointed eyeteeth flashed into view, dark with blood. “You’re mine now,” he said in the wolves’ language, accent so thick Matthew had trouble understanding what he’d said.

Ash palmed the side of Matthew’s neck and leaned in close to inhale a long sniff, and at that distance, Matthew saw how Ash’s eyes nearly closed as he drew in Matthew’s scent. As soon as Ash finished his inhale, he dragged the bridge of his nose along the column of Matthew’s throat, smearing a wet warmth over Matthew’s skin that Matthew tried hard not to think about.

Alpha’s blood. Matthew could smell it, the rich metallic tang of wolves’ blood, and a shudder coursed through him. The twisting in his stomach only got worse the closer he came to believing he might have helped Ash kill Alpha.

He wiped sweat off his upper lip, eyes straining to see in the dark. “Is Alpha dead?”

Instead of answering, Ash rumbled, the sound rising through his chest as his teeth raked across Matthew’s stubbled jaw, jostling Matthew forward on his knees.

He clutched at Ash’s shoulder to keep from falling over the pile of bricks, hissing as a sharp corner jabbed into the side of his thigh.

Ash stopped, breathing heavily against the skin over Matthew’s pounding pulse. “You’re hurt.”

Exhaustion hit Matthew hard. The tremors in his muscles turned into a body-wracking shudder and he didn’t resist at all when Ash pushed him down on the ground.

Ash crawled over Matthew, his hot breath breezing across Matthew’s skin and sending an intensely pleasant tingle racing down his spine. Ash made a sound almost like a whimper and he rubbed the hard bulge of what promised to be a long, thick alien cock against the side of Matthew’s hip.

“We can’t do this here,” Matthew said. “If Alpha’s not dead, he could heal—”

“Submit!” Ash nipped at Matthew’s throat with those sharp teeth.

“I do, I submit,” He dug his fingers into Ash’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I submit.”

He’d heard that the fighting during the heat season sexually excited the wolves and that their instincts drove them to it. Brendan had once told him that if not for how irresistible the wolves found the human scent during their heat they probably never would’ve started mating with humans at all. They chose mates by scent and strength, but humans couldn’t fight and expect to live—so mating humans wouldn’t have been a rational choice.

But the human scent had destroyed any chance for rational considerations during heat season and they hadn’t yet found a way to do more than repress their mating urges with drugs that were only partially effective.

Ash’s hand slid into the back of Matthew’s pants and one of his claws pricked the cheek of Matthew’s ass.

Matthew sucked in his breath. “Don’t,” he said, voice high and tight. “You’ll hurt me.”

Ash’s hand stopped moving and he pulled his head back to look at Matthew. “You’re afraid.”

“Terrified,” Matthew said, not trying to hide the tremor in his voice.

“But you submit.” Ash buried his face against Matthew’s hair at the side of his head and sniffed. “You shouldn’t be afraid.”

As Ash spoke, his breath caressed Matthew’s ear.

Matthew couldn’t stop his shiver. “I submit. But I’m definitely still afraid.”

Ash’s head lowered and he sniffed deeply, moving across Matthew’s chest to his armpit, then down to Matthew’s stomach, and then lower, where he stopped and breathed in the scent at Matthew’s crotch.

Ash’s hot tongue dragged along the exposed flesh of Matthew’s cock. Pleasure licked up Matthew’s spine, and he made a sound like a whimper before he caught himself. He tangled his fingers in Ash’s hair.

If he couldn’t talk some sense into Ash soon, he was going to end up having to let Ash fuck him, and if there was one thing Matthew knew, it was that spit lube was good for one thing and one thing only—a blowjob, not an ass fucking.

And especially not an ass fucking from a wolf in heat.

He moved his damaged hand to his stomach and started rambling, hoping he could get through to Ash. “The bones in my hand are broke and they’re not healing right, and Gage—one of the renegades—shot me. See the scabs? Something could be wrong inside me. I don’t—I don’t have anything for you to use if you try to fuck me right now. It’ll hurt like hell, and—and—and I like you, Ash, I really do, you know I do, but this isn’t the you I’m used to. I don’t even know you right now.” He stared down at Ash’s head, where his fingers clutched at Ash’s soft dark hair. “You’re just a wolf in heat and—and—shit—
shit
—I don’t know what to do right now.”

“You’re hurt,” Ash said, shaking his head against Matthew and this time he sounded almost anguished. “I can’t—” Ash dragged in another deep breath and buried his nose tight against Matthew’s thigh. “You’re hurt—and I can’t—I need… I’m sorry…” He tugged at the waistband of Matthew’s pants, exposing several more inches of skin. “I can’t resist you.”

“Then just—” Matthew’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Just don’t hurt me, okay?”

Ash shook his head, as if to shake off the haze of lust. He took hold of Matthew’s hand and moved it toward his hip. “Lubricant. We always carry lubricant during heat season.”

Just as Ash pushed Matthew’s hand against the small bulge in his pocket, the sound of bricks clacking together beside them startled Matthew and he jerked.

Ash growled, a sound he cut short in a rush of activity as he lunged to his feet, dragging Matthew with him. Matthew wasn’t expecting it when Ash released him, but before he could even get his feet under him, Ash had clasped Matthew’s arm in a tight grip, hauled him upright, and started pulling him along, headed toward what was left of the old asphalt road.

The rumble started up again, until every hair on Matthew’s body felt like it was standing on end.

“What’s going on?”

“Alpha’s healing. You were right. We can’t stay here. I have to …” His ragged breath and his deepening accent made it hard for Matthew to understand him. “I don’t deserve to mate you if I can’t protect you.” Ash lunged up the hill on the other side of the broken road, dragging Matthew along.

Matthew panted in his effort to keep up with Ash. His foot slipped on the leaves and he pitched forward, knee catching him and arm jerking in Ash’s unyielding grip. He breathed through the ache and regained his feet with Ash’s help.

“Hurry,” Ash said. “We need distance. Your scent will draw him after us.”

“Can’t … hurry … any faster,” Matthew gasped out. “Give me a … second.” His fly was still open and his pants had slid down. He hiked them up on his hips again.

“Button ’em,” he said, gesturing with his broken hand. “I can’t.”

Ash released him just long enough to close Matthew’s fly with trembling hands, and when Ash reached for Matthew again, Matthew twisted his arm and caught Ash’s forearm for better leverage as they climbed the steep incline.

Matthew looked over his shoulder as they started moving again. “Will he really heal that fast?”

“He’s Alpha. He heals much faster than me.”

“Goddammit, you should’ve submitted to him,” Matthew said. “If you submit, and I submit, he’ll just fuck me and—”

“No!” Ash roared, and the intensity of Ash’s reaction made Matthew jump back, but Ash didn’t let him go.

“God, you’re the one who told me I should submit to him, that I needed an alpha,” Matthew said.

Ash halted and caught Matthew by the back of the neck with his hand. “If he tries to take you away from me now, I will kill him, or I’ll die trying. He can’t have you now. I can’t resist. I won’t.” He spoke into Matthew’s face, his voice rough and dark and his glowing eyes locked on Matthew in an unsettling stare.

“Okay,” Matthew said. “Okay. I understand.”

“No, you don’t.” Ash released Matthew’s arm and dragged his hand down to Matthew’s groin, a low rumble building in his chest. Matthew gasped in a short breath at the heat and heaviness of Ash’s hand over his cock. “I want to fuck you. I want to mate you. I want to push you down on the ground and rut into you until the last moment of my heat has passed and even breathing is too much effort. But—” Teeth flashed in the darkness and a growl sent a sharp tingle up Matthew’s spine. “I can’t. And your care is my most important obligation. I’ve claimed you as a heat mate. We’ll fuck and when this is over—”

Ash stopped, breathing heavily. He seemed to struggle to speak and his claws came out against Matthew’s neck.

Matthew grabbed Ash’s hand. “Ow!”

Ash shook his head in that way again that made Matthew think he was fighting his own instincts, and his claws retracted, leaving only the pads of his fingers pressed against Matthew’s skin. He continued speaking, and his voice was a dark, deep echo in the night, “When this is over, I’ll let you go, because that’s what we do with heat mates.”

Then Ash released him and turned, and took them the last few steps over the curve of the hill to flatter ground, and Matthew rubbed the back of his hand against his mouth and tried to breathe through the tightness in his chest and the burn behind his nose.

Ash had no idea what this was going to do to him.

Goddamn wolves. Matthew didn’t know why he even cared.

Maybe—maybe he needed to think about moving on after this, away from Brendan and the wolves.

Away from Ash, before he started to hate them, for reasons that had nothing to do with their alien nature and everything to do with his own heart.

Matthew’s black mood stayed with him until daybreak, when shadows solidified into branches and leaves and vines and the side of Ash’s face became a hard silhouette of a sharp, straight nose and strong jaw and a forehead and brow that furrowed every time Ash stopped to listen for the sound of pursuit.

Then anger started to wend its way through Matthew, tensing his shoulders and tightening his neck and all he could think about was what Ash had said—what Ash had meant.

Who the hell did Ash think he was? Was he already so sure Matthew would be so goddamn forgettable that he knew he didn’t want more than a few weeks of fucking from him, just enough to satisfy his heat?

Goddamn asshole.

Ash could shove his own dick up his own ass if that’s how he—

Matthew sighed and shoved his hand through his hair and stumbled on in the breaking light of dawn.

Goddammit. He didn’t hate Ash. And he wasn’t going to do something so stupid, so sure to set off Ash’s instincts to fight, as refuse to submit. He would end up getting himself killed. Ash would probably feel guilty as hell for that—and Matthew sure as hell didn’t want to die.

They had traveled for what felt like hours and Matthew had decided that this—this was the true pinnacle of his exhaustion, and if he’d thought he was tired before, he had known nothing about how tired he could actually get while hiking over rugged terrain that looked like it hadn’t ever seen another human traveler.

Before the earthquake, the area had been more heavily populated, but after, the population had dropped significantly and stayed that way for a long time. People hadn’t started moving back into the area for decades after the quake.

That was how he remembered the story anyway. Whether it as the whole story, or even the true story, Matthew didn’t know. His education had been cut drastically short by the coming of the wolves and the death of his mother. History and geography had been replaced with learning how to hunt and garden. There’d been a house full of mouths to feed and his aunt had put them all to work as soon as she realized the food shortages were only going to get worse.

Ash pulled up short in front of Matthew and Matthew staggered to a stop, bumping into Ash’s back. The sky had lightened until Matthew could even make out the fact that Ash’s dark shirt had been shredded across one shoulder and partway down the back and dried blood had stiffened the fabric.

“What is it?” Matthew asked. What Matthew really wanted to ask was why the hell the wolves seemed to spend so much time stalking the fucking woods when they had alien space ships.

Ships, for God’s sake, that could fly and take him places without wearing out his goddamn legs.

He was going to collapse if they didn’t stop soon. He was going to collapse and just let Ash drag him along the forest floor by his goddamned leg.

He snorted a laugh at the image that popped into his mind.

Ash turned his head and stared at Matthew, eyes glassy and unfocused and even though Matthew couldn’t identify the exact emotion behind the look Ash gave him, he had a feeling Ash thought he was losing his mind or something.

He did feel kind of euphoric, as if his fatigue had gotten such a tight grip on his mind that he wasn’t really there anymore.

“If I’m dreaming, there should be more fucking and less walking,” he said, rubbing his hand briskly over his face. Coarse hair scratched his palm. “I need a shave.”

Ash reached out and covered Matthew’s mouth with his palm, and his eyes flickered over Matthew’s face and then to the side again. He spoke quietly, “Something’s ahead of us.”

Matthew pushed Ash’s hand away and shook off the daze of fatigue clouding his head. “Alpha?”

“No. Not a wolf.”

“Shelter maybe?”

“Stay here.” Ash started to move forward but stopped, turning and pulling Matthew in tight. He licked Matthew’s throat, and the sensation of Ash’s hot wet tongue scraping over his larynx turned Matthew’s skin to gooseflesh. The hard bulge of Ash’s dick pushed against him and he couldn’t stop the way his own dick jumped at the contact.

“I figured you would’ve thrown me down on the ground and fucked me at least once by now,” he muttered. “Thought you were all about the fucking during heat.”

“Your safety is more important.”

“Now that you’ve got me, you don’t seem to be that taken with me.”