Lethal Desire [Devil Hills Wolves 5] Read online

  

  Devil Hills Wolves 5

  Lethal Desire

  Captured and tortured by a pro-human faction responsible for rehabilitating non-humans, Theo’s only sin is having a psychic for a brother. Theo expects to die after his brother, but the Squad has one last use for him—as a sleeper spy to kill the Alpha of the most dangerous wolf pack in the country. Theo’s nearly given up on living, until he comes face-to-face with a feral and possessive werewolf able to strip his heart bare and help him heal both inside and out.

  When a naked, bleeding human is dropped on pack land borders, werewolf enforcer Joe knows Theo is trouble. Theo can’t be trusted, but Joe’s wolf recognizes its fated mate. Joe defies his pack and even his Alpha to keep Theo, but can Joe help break Theo’s brainwashing, or is he doomed to lose his mate?

  Genres: Alternative (M/M, Gay), Paranormal, Romantic Suspense, Shape-shifter, Vampires/Werewolves

  Length: 31,904

  Lethal Desire

  Devil Hills Wolves 5

  Fel Fern

  

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  Lethal Desire

  Copyright © 2018 by Fel Fern

  ISBN: 978-1-64243-265-7

  First Publication: June 2018

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All art and logo copyright © 2018 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

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  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Felicia Fern works as a graphic designer during the day, and loves penning M/M paranormal erotic romance at night.

  A sadist who loves watching her heroes break their backs trying to earn their happy endings, Fel likes throwing in the occasional dash of the unknown to the usual romantic concoction.

  www.felfern.com

  https://tinyletter.com/felfern

  https://www.facebook.com/author.felfern

  For all titles by Fel Fern, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/fel-fern

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Lethal Desire

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lethal Desire

  Devil Hills Wolves 5

  FEL FERN

  Copyright © 2018

  Prologue

  One Month Ago

  Knuckles rapping on his cell door woke Theo Wilmer up abruptly. He uncurled from his position on the floor, warily looking at the guard who entered. Theo didn’t miss the look of disgust the guard gave him, the silent condemnation in his eyes. He could almost imagine what the guard was thinking.

  Serves you right for allying yourself with shifters, a non-human and enemy of the Humans Matter government.

  Theo kept his gaze trained on the floor. He remembered the first few days they dragged him here, into one of the Humans Matter government black site prisons, how he’d been defiant at first. Theo had fought, resisted the guards, but in the end, that only meant more pain.

  “Eat up, subject 342, I hear Voss has plans for you,” the guard sneered, before leaving.

  Subject 342.

  Voss and his rehabilitation trainers, nice word for torturers, had tried to rewire his brain into forgetting his birth name. Tried and failed.

  No, his name was Theo Wilmer. He wasn’t a thing, a disposable object. Theo had a family, his parents and his younger brother Tommy, except where were they now? Tommy and he witnessed his parents being shot down by the Discipline Squad.

  They targeted his mother first, probably assumed she was the bigger threat, not knowing she was only quarter shifter and the magpie genes had been dormant in her. Among her two children, only Tommy inherited the ability to shift, and wings to fly. Living in a society filled with paranormal-hating humans, being human or close to it, had been a blessing, or so Theo thought anyway.

  Painfully shutting his eyes, he tried to recall the faces of his parents. The picture was murky at best. Like Tommy, he’d inherited their father’s dark blond hair and their mother’s hazel eyes. Jesus. When was the last time he saw Tommy?

  The Captain of the Discipline Squad, Malachi Voss, had learned early that to get Tommy to comply, all he needed to do was use Theo against Tommy. Unable to see his older brother being hurt, Tommy had complied. It twisted his insides each time, seeing his brother’s defeated eyes.

  I’ll let you and your brother go, if you do as I ask, Voss once said.

  All lies. Theo knew Voss had been working hard to ‘rehabilitate’ shifters for use by the Squad. The Squad had some successes with Espers, humans with psychic abilities but were also considered non-humans by Humans Matter. Rumor had it that shifters were harder to bend.

  Theo warily eyed the brown slop on the tray. His stomach growled. After suspecting the guards had been drugging him, he stopped eating, but at this rate, he’d starve to death. Theo crawled his way to the tray, sat cross-legged in front of it and picked up the fork. Did dying hurt? He heard the screams from the other cells next to him often enough.

  He clutched the plastic spoon in his scarred fist. A tiny voice in him urged him to rebel. Don’t give in. Fight.

  Except Theo heard that voice less often now. He was so tired of fighting. He picked up the tray. It didn’t smell appealing. Whatever had been scooped onto his tray looked like stew. He swallowed, staring at the greasy brown sauce, the cubes floating on top of it. Vegetables? Mystery meat?

  He thought back on the guard’s words. Voss wanted to see him. This wasn’t good. The last time he starved himself, he fainted on the way to Voss. He’d get to see Tommy at least. Hunger won, so he shoveled the crap down his throat. He set it down seconds later and downed the water bottle that came with the tray.

  Theo then returned to his corner. There used to be a bed, until he mouthed off to Voss and that got taken away. What felt like an eternity later, the guard returned, taser in hand.

  “You going to behave, 342, or we doing this the hard way?” the guard asked.

  In response, he shakily rose to his feet and held out his hands. The guard smirked, slapped the cuffs on them. The metal itched. He knew these cuffs had been specially designed to contain shifters, but Theo was helpless as a human. The guard nudged him out of the cell. They passed other doors, other cells. Moans and screams came from some of them. Ignoring them, he trained his eyes forward.

  He wanted to see Tommy, hoped that if his brother saw him alive
, it would encourage Tommy to live a little bit longer. They made several twists and turns. The usual gray and depressing walls and corridors of the holding cells turned white, the lights bright and clinical. They passed a scientist in a lab coat, arguing with another. They barely gave Theo a look. Why would they?

  To them, he was probably furniture, worse, a disposable object easily replaced.

  “Over here,” the guard said, gripping him by the shoulder and stopping in front of a door that read ‘Experimentation Room 212’.

  A large floor-to-ceiling glass cabinet stood next to the door. His stomach turned queasy. Theo didn’t want to look at whatever nightmare equipment lay inside. The guard did a retinal and eye scan. The door slid open and the guard roughly shoved him inside.

  “Subject 342, good you’re here,” Voss said. When he first met Voss, he found it hard to believe that a demon could reside in the skin of a muscular, good-looking man in his forties. Theo knew better now. The scar on the left side of Voss’s cheek rippled as he spoke, “I’m sure you’ve missed your brother. Well, say hello.”

  Terrified of what he’d find but knowing he’d be punished for disobeying Voss, he lifted his gaze and stared at Tommy, or the remains of his brother in the chair. A scream tore out of him, the sound animalistic, a howl of pure anguish. The guard slammed a fist into the side of his skull, but that didn’t silence him.

  “Shut the fuck up,” the guard hissed, fist colliding with his left lip.

  He closed his mouth, unable to believe the burnt thing on the examination chair was Tommy—until he saw the white and black feathers on the floor. Magpie feathers.

  “Kill me now,” he whispered, defeated.

  Voss’s next words chilled him to the bone. “Why would I do that? No, subject 342. I have one last use for trash like you.”

  Chapter One

  “That’s all for today,” Deacon Becker, Alpha to the Devil Hills pack, one of the most powerful packs in the region, announced to all his enforcers.

  Joe Fisher intended to slip away quietly, hoping no one would bring up the fact it was, supposedly, his day off. He didn’t blame the pack for taking extra precautions around their borders, liked burying himself with his duties and his work. Taking charge of his own team and an area of the pack’s vast territory kept his wolf sane, stable.

  Lately, it had been unbearable being around the other enforcers. Joe trusted each one at his back. He’d wade into battle without hesitation next to them on the killing field and would bleed for his Alpha, Beta, and the other enforcers, but it didn’t help his mood that the love virus seemed to be in the air.

  He eyed the other enforcers in the room. First it had been Forrest, their youngest enforcer, who had found his mate. Deacon came next. Even the Devil, the nickname given to Santino, one of the enforcers Joe would never want as his enemy, had settled down with his bobcat healer mate. Then their Beta found his lost love and mated him.

  That left only Max, him, and Sabine, but he could cross off Sabine because she’d lost her mate years ago. Rumor had it that she’d been getting close with Madeline, vampire second to the Devil Hills vampire coven who called this territory home. Max, on the other hand, seemed to have no trouble finding packmates to sleep with. Then again, Max always declared mates weren’t for him, that he preferred being a bachelor.

  “I’ll be off to my sector then,” Max said with a yawn, leaving the room.

  Joe used to be the same as Max, serious when it came to pack business but carefree when it came to relationships. With his looks, his easy charm that his Alpha valued to get into negotiations with other paranormal groups, Joe had no trouble attracting attention. Too bad watching all these mated couples made his wolf restless, itchy with want.

  One night stands no longer satisfied him, only left him feeling empty afterward. Hell, Joe couldn’t recall the last time he’d been with a man. Months maybe? Joe could blame it all on the pack dealing with more of these pesky Humans Matter and their Discipline Squad, but that wasn’t true.

  Seeing all these sickeningly happy couples made his wolf yearn for something more solid. Joe even began entertaining the notion of having a mate next to him, a familiar face he’d wake up next to the morning and one he’d been excited to go home too after a long day of patrols. Shit. If Max ever heard that, the other enforcer would laugh in his face.

  “Joe,” Deacon drawled, pausing from his conversation with Lance, Santino, and Sabine, who lingered a little longer even after Max left. Wait a moment. Joe shouldn’t dawdle. His mind got easily carried off in a direction he was terrified of.

  “What did I miss?” he asked.

  Deacon asked instead, “Where are you off to?”

  Joe gave the Alpha his famous ‘aw shucks’ look, but he should have known it wouldn’t work with Deacon. Deacon raised one black eyebrow and said, “It’s your day off, why don’t you take a break?”

  “He’s been working rather hard lately,” Sabine commented.

  Those eerie eyes of her looked amused. Her brother Santino nudged her, secret smile on his lips. Damn those siblings. Santino probably made a comment to her mind-to-mind.

  He glared at them. Again, no effect. Like Max, he’d been born and grew up in this pack, had witnessed the near decimation of their pack. While Joe was busy playing parent to his two orphaned brothers, Deacon had transformed from promising young boy into a ruthless Alpha. Deacon swore to those who remained loyal to him that someday, they’d arise from the ashes of their failure.

  Deacon succeeded.

  In less than two decades, Deacon built the pack from the ground up, flanked on either side by his Devil and Ghost, nicknames given to Santino and Sabine, silver-eyed half-werewolf and half-Esper siblings who gave their Alpha natural mental shielding abilities. Deacon invited other paranormal groups like a coven of vampires and a large hawk group into Devil Hills, made them allies. As a result, Devil Hills turned into a formidable community even the Humans Matter government was afraid to touch.

  The pack had come far. Joe stepped up for his younger brothers Quentin and Marshall after their parents died, thought he reared his brothers right. When they reached adulthood, Joe worked his way up from pack soldier to enforcer. In his own way, he made good.

  Unlike the striking Devil or Ghost, or Lance, their Beta, who was known for his perfect control and level-headed thinking, Joe’s talents lay with blending in and convincing people. Deacon seemed untouchable to most packmates and outsiders, and as a result, the weaker members of the pack sometimes kept their distance, but they weren’t afraid to approach Joe.

  “I planned on checking on my sector, that’s all,” Joe said, hands in his pocket.

  Surely, Deacon wouldn’t comment on him being too responsible. The last thing he wanted was to stroll into town and see the mate-bug affecting more of the paranormal residents who called Devil Hills their home.

  “You’ve been running yourself ragged, and that’s new, even for you,” Lance said unhelpfully. “I hear Freida’s in town today.”

  “Freida’s probably not Joe’s cup of tea,” Santino said. “Hmm, what about Jared? He’s off-duty, too.”

  “Too obvious, brother,” Joe heard Sabine murmur to Santino.

  He blistered. Why was everyone bugging him today and suspiciously playing matchmaker of all things? Frieda was sister to Joey, Lance’s mate, and she was a sweet submissive werewolf who had plenty of suitors on her tail. Jared was one of the promising younger soldiers of the pack assigned to Santino’s team.

  Sweat coated his back. Why did he have a feeling that these four lingered behind not to discuss some serious-ass pack business but his love life or lack of it?

  “Alpha, don’t you have an important meeting to get to?” Joe asked pointedly. When none of the four busybodies made a move, he huffed. “I’m leaving,” he announced loudly, slightly pissed.

  He stalked out of the meeting room.

  Didn’t those people have other better things to do? Joe considered them family, they always h
ad his back, but sometimes, like annoying family members, they should know when to stop being busy-bodies.

  Joe exited the pack house and paused to look at the smaller homes and cabins built on either side of the massive four-story structure that formed the heart and center of the pack compound. Wind blew at his face and he shut his eyes. The pack really had come so far.

  Back when the pack had been hunted down by humans, he remembered Marshall and Quentin looking shocked, still unable to accept their parents’ deaths. Joe remembered looking at Deacon, covered in blood, supported on either side by Santino and Sabine. Deacon lost his parents, too, his mother and his father, the old Alpha, but Deacon had somehow found the strength to look forward, always thinking about the next step for the pack.

  Joe grudgingly had to admit that seeing the upper chain of command in the pack happily mated had been good influence on other pack members. Some found their mates in that short span of time, too. Good for them.

  His wolf snarled inside him, pushing him to do the same. Joe knew most of his fellow packmates but didn’t feel that tell-tale tug with any of them. His mate wasn’t in the pack. It wouldn’t be strange to find his mate in a shifter of a different animal group or an Esper. Deacon, Santino, and Forrest’s mates weren’t werewolves. Too bad he didn’t feel that sense of connection with any of the other paranormals in town, either.

  He walked out of the compound area and entered the east side of the large expense of woods which bordered their home. Deacon had chosen a great location, close enough to the main town area but the terrain wouldn’t be easily crossed by a human or Esper.

  He stripped out of his clothes, left his belongings in a ball, and reached for his wolf. The change came easily. Fur covered his chest and shoulders. Bones broke, reformed, and organs shifted. Once on all four paws, Joe headed deeper into his woods. He checked up on his team members because, what the heck, he might as well do his job.