Home is Where the Heart Is (Cloverleah Pack Series Book 15) Read online

  Wesley’s Story: Home is Where the Heart Is

  Cloverleah Pack Series # 15

  By Lisa Oliver

  Home is Where the Heart Is (The Cloverleah Pack 15)

  Copyright © Lisa Oliver, 2020

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Cover Design by Lisa Oliver

  Cover pictures purchased from Shutterstock.com.

  First Edition February 2020

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording or by any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, Lisa Oliver. [email protected]

  No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the internet or any other means, electronic or print, without permission from Lisa Oliver. 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. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights and livelihood is appreciated.

  Home is Where the Heart Is, is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All trademarks are owned by the relevant companies and are used for reference purposes in this book only.

  Table of Contents

  Author Note

  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

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue - One

  Epilogue – Two

  Kiddie Time

  About the Author

  Other Books By Lisa/Lee Oliver

  Dedication

  To Amanda and Carla, you did an amazing job as always -the mistakes remaining are all mine.

  To Phil, perhaps this time more than for any other, thank you for your amazing knack of keeping my character facts straight. You knew how hard this book was for me to write – and yes, I know, “Book Bible.”

  And to all my lovely readers, without which the Cloverleah Pack series and all my other titles would not be possible. You make me smile every day. Thank you.

  Let Love Win in 2020.

  Author Note

  Putting this book out is a bittersweet moment for me. On the one hand, release day is the sixth anniversary of the day my first ever MM PNR book came out – The Reluctant Wolf – and I think that deserves celebrating. Wesley’s story is my sixty-fifth title written in those six years.

  On the other hand, the men of Cloverleah are like my family, and it’s difficult for me to say goodbye. So many times, writing this story, I was tempted to throw in plot lines that would necessitate another book after this one. But I didn’t (I honestly didn’t, lol).

  I have done my best to keep the timelines straight between this and the Gods Made Me Do It series. Because Hades and Ali do feature quite heavily in this story, you should know Wesley’s story takes place after the Fates granted the non-God male mates the ability to be pregnant/impregnate their mates, but before Hades is willing to announce publicly he’s pregnant.

  And for those of you who are pondering the book number and wondering if you’ve missed any of them – please don’t. Because there are two ‘half’ (.5) books in this series, Amazon thinks this book is number 15, even though it is the thirteenth full Cloverleah novel. As always, there is a full list of all my books at the end of this one.

  Thank you.

  Chapter One

  Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. The persistent sound wasn’t helping the ache in Wesley’s bladder one damn bit. He needed to pee, but he didn’t want to lose the dream. It was his favorite - the one he had where he was back home with his pack in Cloverleah. Warm and safe in his bed with the hot body of a faceless male snuggled against him. Cloverleah, where there were pack runs, companionship, joking, shared meals, and happiness. Working for the FBI before that hadn’t been so bad either even though he was stuck in human form and had to hide what he was as if it was a deep dark secret. Hell, the FBI’s worst assignments were better than his current situation. Now? Wesley kept his eyes firmly shut. His reality wasn’t worth opening his eyes for these days.

  Just five minutes more. Wesley tried to adjust on the sandy floor to get comfortable, but reality was a harsh bitch who wouldn’t let him be. Sleep and his dream of home evaded him, destroyed by his insistent bladder and that damned relentless drip.

  Unable to ignore either any longer, Wesley pushed himself to his feet, dropping into a fighting stance. The rock walls and ceilings mocked him as they did every second he was awake. “Arrrgh!” He screamed, fists clenched, the veins in his neck standing out. “I’ve fucking had enough of this shit. Fight me. Kill me. Beat me. Just fucking do something, you bastards. Where the fuck are you?”

  Just like all the other times he’d screamed at the rock walls, Wesley got no answer. Damn his fucking wolf shifter hormones. Damn them all to hell. They got him into this. That fucking night at the stupid human club seemed liked years ago. Wes had no clue how much time had really passed since that fateful night. It wasn’t as if he could see days passing in a cave with no sun or moon to guide him. Fuck. He screamed again. “Come fight me, you fuckers!”

  The echo died away to the drip, drip, drip, which only made him want to scream more. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Each step to the edge of the wards was punctuated by a ‘fuck’. Wes celebrated with a “goddamn it” when he reached the spot he used for peeing. The bastards didn’t provide him with a toilet. At least the sand absorbed the liquid. Taking a crap was a different matter and he’d created a spot for that as far away as he could from his living space. Shifted, it was easier, and his wolf did his best to bury the necessary function. The wolf hated pacing around the cave as much as Wesley did, but in between bouts of raging at their captivity, both of Wesley’s spirits realized shifting was a necessity at times. And they both gave the toilet area a wide berth except when having to use it.

  The one thing Wesley’s captivity had given him, was the time to meditate on his transgressions. Fuck it, what else was there to do when stuck in isolation in a fucking cave. In the long hours, days, weeks – hell, it could have been months for all Wesley knew – he came to realize that it was his jealousy towards his full wolf shifter pack mates that gave the Dark Elves their opening into his psyche; that it was his personal emotional hell that the fucking Dark Elves could exploit. And boy, did those fuckers exploit him.
r />   Even now, Wes remembered the beautiful man, so fucking exquisite with the slight scent of a paranormal he couldn’t place. Tall and slim, ethereally elegant, with a silver tongue who spouted sympathetic words, and who seemed to know exactly what to say to get Wesley to open up. Only in hindsight did Wesley see how the man had twisted his thoughts, saying just enough to feed into an anger Wes had never admitted to himself.

  Goddamn it. I was so fucking ripe for the picking. It didn’t take anything for the beautiful man to convince him to go out to the parking lot for a quickie. The man understood Wesley, sympathizing and encouraging his pain, his anger, and even… oh fuck it… the tiny slice of vengeance Wes felt towards his pack mates that ate away at his soul, coupled with the guilt he carried because he knew he should never feel that way. But Wes had been so fucking lonely as he watched his pack find their mates one by fucking one. And underneath that loneliness was the fucking fear that a half wolf didn’t deserve a love like that and that he’d never have someone accept him for exactly who he was. That dark angel had played him like the old proverbial fiddle, and he walked right into the trap so artfully set for him.

  Wesley had accepted his captivity was all his own fault. Cloverleah was his pack. Even if he wasn’t entitled to a mate because he was a half breed, the pack took him in as their own. Hell, Wes had helped protect the pack on more than one occasion. And Wes goddamn got what he damn well deserved because he betrayed his pack and his alpha by listening to that beautiful fucker in that stupid club, to the point of getting himself captured. He didn’t get the blow job or the quickie he was looking for, but he damn well got what he deserved.

  Not a lot of point in thinking about it now. Sighing, Wes freed his cock, letting his pee flow, staring into the fuzzy gloom that didn’t let him see much of the rest of the world beyond the wards. Not that he would see much anyway in the eerie red glowing half-light that never changed from one hour to the next.

  Wes had lost all track of time ages ago. His phone didn’t work and died completely when the battery ran out. His watch was frozen at 10:32, Friday April 19th. The only reason Wes knew the watch was indicating p.m. was because that was the moment he’d been taken. Who knew how long ago? Wes didn’t have a clue, but it sure felt like several lifetimes. Several lifetimes of sand and the goddamn warded cave he couldn’t escape.

  He stared down, purely because the view hadn’t changed and then frowned. Huh. That’s fucking weird. Great. He was going bat shit crazy because now he was fascinated by pee patterns. Wes stared and cocked his head. Something was different this time. Where’s the line?

  The first time Wesley’s bladder pushed hard enough to make him find a spot to pee, the freaking line against the wards had, excuse the phrase, pissed him off. The dark bastards were so dead set on keeping him captive, even his pee couldn’t escape. The wards crackled every time he’d edged toward them to see if he could breach them in any way. Not even his pee could get through, something Wes was reminded of, every single time he had to empty his bladder and his pee formed a line in the sand.

  Today, there wasn’t a line. This must be some kind of trick. Stuffing his cock back into his dirty smelly pants, Wes edged forward, tentatively reaching out his hand to where the wards should be. He held his breath, waiting for the shock and burning that trying to breach the wards would bring, along with the final jolt backwards that always threw him on his ass.

  Nothing happened, but Wes could clearly see his arm was beyond where the wards should be. Maybe the dark ones have been watching me and don’t like me peeing on their wards. Maybe, they’ve been moved out a bit. Wesley stretched his arm out a bit further and then he wiggled his fingers. “What the fuck?” He waved his arm in a circle. Still nothing. Not a crackle, a zap, or anything to suggest the wards had ever been there.

  “I’ve lost it. I’ve completely lost it.” Wesley stared at the end of his fingers, almost afraid to bring his arm close again. “Son of a bitch. If this is some fucking sort of game, I’ll shred the next dark bastard I see.” He slowly lowered his arm, wondering if the lack of wards was just another way the dark bastards were fucking with him.

  Glancing back into the cave, Wes took in the dip in the sand he had created a nest out of to sleep in, and then over at the rapidly shrinking store of food he had rationed since it suddenly stopped appearing. Well, hell. He’d been rationing from day one, never sure if he could trust his captors to feed him regularly. But the last food appeared quite some time ago, and his reserves were sparse. Wes had been wondering for a while now, if the dark bastards were simply going to starve him to death. Wards down. No food. Something had happened. Wes just wasn’t sure what.

  “Something has fucking happened.” His wolf pricked his ears and listened. “I’m right, aren’t I?” Yep, his wolf hearing confirmed the crackle of the wards were gone. “We’re free!”

  He headed for the entrance where the eerie glow seemed brighter. Stepping out, Wes’s elation dimmed as hot air greeted him, smothering him like a blanket. A bleak landscape, all sand and rocks, stretched as far as he could see. Wes had no clue where he was. All he figured was he wasn’t on the earth realm anymore. It wasn’t possible for the lack of sun, moon, or night sky to cover such a huge area. Which meant, Wes didn’t have a fucking clue how he was going to get home. I don’t even know if anyone’s looking for me. His pack mates had probably assumed he’d been killed by the dark fuckers not long after he’d gone missing.

  That simply means we’re on our own. Still, Wes hesitated, not that he or his wolf had a lot of options. Either he could sit down and wait for the food to run out, or he could look for a way to get home, or at least find another source of food and water. I’m not staying here. After spending goodness knows how long cooped up, Wes’s wolf was keen to stretch his legs and run, even in an alien landscape. Working quickly, Wes consolidated what little amount of provisions he had left into a couple of the storage containers the food originally arrived in. Two of them would easily fit into his shirt, which Wes bundled up into a make-shift pack for his wolf to carry.

  Looking down at his feet, Wes winced at the state of his footwear. His boots, his wonderful, handmade-just-for-him boots were beyond redemption. With a sigh, he kicked them off. His tight-fitting pants he used to have to struggle to get on and off, dropped to the ground as soon as he undid the button. Wes tucked them into his make-shift pack.

  Calling on his wolf, Wes allowed the shift to flow over him. Let’s see if we can find a way out of this hell hole. His wolf was so damn glad to get out of the cave.

  /~/~/~/~/

  Wes stopped, dropped his pack, and stared at the horizon. The only thing that changed about the view was different rock formations. He had no clue how long he had been traveling. Hours? Days? Nothing changed in this world. The glow stayed constant, night or day with no way of marking the passing hours. Whoever designed this hell hole gave no thought to anything beyond rocks and fucking sand.

  Time had no meaning. Wes slept when he stopped, soaking his sand-rubbed paws in any water he could find. The different caves he found along the way, thank the Fates, had plenty of water, even if there wasn’t anything else. When the pain in his paws got to be too much, Wes shifted to his human form and pushed on, moving in one direction, driven to find a way home or at least somewhere that was something more than rocks and sand.

  As the time passed, Wes got to the point where he wished the monsters that haunted his nightmares were real. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing in the realm but rocks and fucking sand. The only sounds that broke the silence were his feet hitting the sand, his breathing, or his wolf’s panting. The despair that hit him in the cave when he realized how stupid he’d been, got deeper as time marched on.

  So, when Wes woke from a nap while soaking his paws to find he’d shifted, and he thought he heard a voice, his despair worsened. Hallucinations. Fucking hallucinations generated by his need to find his pack and the endless nothing of the place he was in. Wes didn’t bother getting up or
taking his feet out of the pond. I’ll be seeing palm trees and sexy men running around in speedos next. Wes groaned. He’d come so far, and yet he’d gone nowhere at all. But the need to keep moving, to find something forced him to open his dust-caked eyes.

  He blinked. There was a boy standing in front of him. Wes blinked again. The small thin blond boy who smelled like bear, who had dirt on his face, legs, and clothes, was still there. Wes blinked harder this time, trying to clear his mind of the tricks it was playing on him. But when he opened them again, the boy was still there. And then he spoke.

  “Excuse me, Mister. Carrie fell off the rocks and got hurt. She’s got blood all over. Her arm is really bad. Can you help us?” The boy said politely.

  Wes shot to his feet reaching for the boy. “Are you real?”

  The boy jumped back and scowled. “Well, I’m not chopped liver.”

  Wes held out his arms, palms up in supplication. “I’m sorry. It’s just I’ve been here for a long time without seeing another person except for those guys who put me here. And even they have been missing for a long time. Who are you? How did you get here?”

  Chapter Two

  “How did you all get here?” Wes was stunned. If he was having a hallucination, it was world class. He was in a house. An ordinary ranch house like one that could be found in any suburb anywhere. Couches. Chairs. A TV. A DVD player. A game console. All working, although where the power came from was anyone’s guess. Two scruffy little kids who smelled of wolf sat fascinated by the cartoon that was on.

  “You’re shifters?” Wes asked when the boy didn’t answer his first question. Three cheetah cubs chased each other at high speed around the house, over and under furniture while a baby sloth hung on the couch and vocalized encouragement to the runners.

  “More like lab rats. Our parents are all dead. They experimented on us so now we can shift,” The little blond said. He seemed to be the oldest of the seven kids Wes counted so far. “Look, can you help Carrie or not? She keeps crying and that upsets the younger kids. I’ve had enough of the tears to last me my lifetime since we got here. She won’t shift because it scares her even though I told her that it would fix her arm. She wanted her parents…” The boy paused a brief second before he changed it. “She wants an adult.”