• Home
  • L. C. Davis
  • His Reformed Omega: MPREG Romance (The Mountain Shifters Book 7) Page 2

His Reformed Omega: MPREG Romance (The Mountain Shifters Book 7) Read online

Page 2


  "And how might I do that?"

  "Only one way to kill a legend." Mitchell smirked.

  "A silver bullet seems to work well enough on most things."

  "Exposure," Mitchell continued, ignoring his remark. "The way I see it, you have two options. You can either stay in here until you've paid your dues--and by my best estimate, that'll be long after you're worm chow--or you can rejoin society and make yourself useful instead of just being a nuisance."

  "A nuisance?" Connor scoffed. "That's offensive. I was a nightmare, at the very least."

  "I'm giving you a chance here, and it's a hell of a lot more than you deserve."

  "Because of Mel."

  "Him and the chance to get the Council off my ass. This could be a mutually beneficial arrangement for us."

  "So what, you let me out of here and in exchange, I turn over a new leaf and put my Spirit-given gifts to noble use batting for your team, and we all live happily ever after?"

  Mitchell shrugged. "More or less. Except I can't just let you out, even with the collar. You need a tether, something to give you a stake in this world. Something to make you less of a threat."

  "Would it help if I pulled a reverse Mel and started wearing dresses?"

  "If you'd rather rot..."

  "Just tell me what you want me to do," Connor muttered.

  "Find a mate."

  "Please tell me you're joking."

  Mitchell's blank stare suggested otherwise. "I've been with Angel going on eight years now, but it didn't take half that to realize there are few things in this world stronger than a mate bond."

  "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were suggesting that we use the sacred spiritual bond my brother and his mates won't fucking shut up about as a practical remedy for public suspicion," Cutter said, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offense. "How garish."

  "This destined mate stuff comes and goes when a new verum pair appears, but arranged matings have been done since the first wolves started forming packs."

  Connor's eyes narrowed as he watched the Alpha closely. "This was Hassan's idea, wasn't it? Never mind, don't answer that," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Of course it was. It has his new age psychobabble written all over it."

  "Unfortunately for Hassan, he's in the same position I am. When you're miserable, Mel suffers and when Mel suffers, we suffer. But I'm not going to be around forever, and there might come a day when I can't keep you here. I know you think you don't like it here, but that could change if you actually tried. You already built and lost an empire. Would it really be so bad to try building a life?"

  Connor listened, his arms folded and his foot twitching in agitation. "Even if I were willing to trade one form of captivity and humiliation for another, what kind of alpha would be willing to mate with me?"

  "A desperate one," Mitchell snorted. "Or ambitious. Two sides of the same coin."

  "You're serious about this." The omega's lip curled back as he gave the other man a disapproving once-over.

  "Took me some time to warm up to the idea myself, and yet, here we are."

  "And if I refuse?"

  No one is going to force you to do anything," Mitchell said in a sympathetic tone that made the omega bristle with indignation. The worst part of it all wasn't being held captive, it was being pitied. By alphas, no less. "You don't have to give me an answer right now. Just think about it."

  The Alpha stood, eyeing the half-finished game before he glanced at his watch. "I'd stay to finish this, but I'm due at drills in five minutes."

  "What was your next move going to be?"

  Mitchell looked down, shifting his bishop diagonally a few squares. Connor leaned over the board, moving his knight. "Checkmate."

  Mitchell frowned. "What? That can't be right."

  The omega smirked. "Do you know why I like chess, Mitchell?"

  "Hm?"

  "When you break it down, all the rules and pieces add up to control. Knowing when to make a move and when to hold back for a better time. Being able to read your opponent and use his own weakness against him. It doesn't matter how strong you are. A pawn can threaten a king easily in the hands of a skilled player. In the end, stripped of his crown and glory, the king is the most useless piece of all."

  Mitchell's mouth crooked into a smile. "Yeah, but try winning a game without him. Enjoy your evening, Connor."

  With that, the Alpha knocked twice on the door and the guards opened it to let him through. Cutter turned the board over and fell back limp over the sofa, letting out a puff of air through his lips. "Marked by an alpha?" he scoffed to the betta fish darting around in the tank on his bookshelf. "I'd rather die."

  The fish blew an apathetic bubble to the surface of the water and Connor groaned. Talking to a fish was one thing, but the fact that he was even entertaining the idea of tolerating an alpha was an all-time personal low.

  Chapter Two

  CONNOR

  "Are you sure you're not overfeeding this thing?" Mel's face stretched out in the convex orb of the rounded fish tank as he eyed the betta in the corner.

  Connor scowled, glancing up from the pages of the book he'd been pretending to read when Mel came in. Just because the other omega's visits were the highlight of his otherwise droll and seamless days didn't mean he had to let on. His anger over Mel's perceived betrayal had dulled into a form of pity in the first few months of his captivity, and almost losing him had shaken the last traces of bitterness from his heart where Mel and only Mel was concerned. Happy or not, the knowledge that his brother had lowered himself to being mated to both an alpha and a beta, the same classes of wolves that had subjected them to endless abuse and humiliation so many years ago, would never cease to be a mystery. Connor had come to accept Mel's choice in his own way, but that didn't mean he would ever understand it.

  "Don't start. I think I'm capable of caring for a goddamn fish."

  "You're not exactly the paternal type," Mel said dryly, rising to his full height. He flopped down in the chair across from Connor and glanced at the newly set chess board. "The kids are in school, so I've got plenty of time this morning. Wanna start a new game?"

  "Don't bother, Hassan is the only one worth playing," Connor said with a grimace. "The fact that your Alpha is capable of leading his troops anywhere other than off a cliff is a fucking miracle."

  Mel smirked. "Not everyone can be an evil genius, Con."

  "Flattery will get you nowhere, love," Connor purred. "Especially not if you're hoping for an aisle seat at my mating ceremony."

  Mel sighed. "You know that's not why I came here."

  "No, but you never were any good at playing pretend. This romantic idea of your alpha's has your pawprints all over it, too."

  "I think it's a good idea," Mel admitted, pulling his feet up onto the chair as he took mug Connor offered him. He took one sip and screwed his face up. "What is this?"

  "Civilized people refer to it as tea," Connor said dryly.

  "You know I'm a coffee drinker."

  "Mhm. Maybe you should cut back."

  Mel gave him a quizzical frown before he seemed to refocus. "Have you given any thought to Mitchell's offer?"

  "Plenty. It's had me in stitches ever since he left."

  The look of concern in Mel's big blue eyes was enough to make the other omega look away. Those damn puppy eyes were his only weakness, and Mel knew it. "You have no idea how hard we fought to get Mitch to even consider it, Connor."

  "Yes, I'm well aware that your alpha has designated himself my unwanted advocate."

  "It's not just Hassan. Toval's been working on him, too."

  "Oh, I'm sure. I know all about those Mountain Ridge soldier boys and how they keep warm on the field."

  Mel rolled his eyes. "Mitchell is a one-man alpha ever since he mated Angel, and Hassan and I keep Toval plenty busy on our own, FYI."

  Connor pretended to gag. "Spare me."

  "They love you," Mel said earnestly. "I forgave you for everything, a
nd so have they. As long as you're in here, our family is going to feel incomplete."

  "Oh, I don't know about that. I doubt you need two new additions."

  Mel frowned. "What are you talking about?"

  Connor lowered his gaze pointedly to Mel's stomach. The omega had remained toned even after his official retirement from the Tribunal Task Force, but he'd gotten the slightest bit soft in the middle. Connor had formed his suspicions a few weeks earlier, but that morning was the first time he'd been able to sense the second energy laced within his brother's aura clearly enough to be sure. "My god, at the rate you lot crank out pups, you'd think it wouldn't come as a shock every time."

  Mel pressed a hand to his stomach, his eyes widening in disbelief. "I'm...? Connor, I swear if you're fucking with me --"

  "Trust me, this isn't my idea of a joke," he muttered, taking a swig of brandy. There were some mornings when coffee just wouldn't cut it.

  "I'm pregnant." It sounded more like Mel was trying to convince himself than anything. "You're sure?"

  "I'm sure the dubiously extant Spirits thought they were being ironic when they chose me to be one of those lucky omegas who can detect pregnancy," he said, refilling his glass. "And yes, I'm quite sure you're pregnant."

  Mel swallowed audibly. "Wow..."

  "As much as it pains me to do so, I suppose I have some social obligation to offer you my congratulations. I'm a bit rusty, so bear with me," he said, pausing for dramatic effect. "My dearest brother, I'm so happy you've chosen to abandon all your potential for greatness and snubbed the empire I laid at your feet in favor of a life of domestic drudgery. May chasing around the sticky-handed goblin who'll be feeding off your life force for the next eight months bring you endless joy."

  Mel shook his head in halfhearted disapproval. "Coming from you, I'll take it." He paused and Connor could tell what he wanted to ask even without him saying it.

  "Too early to tell whose it is. My money's on the alpha, but I'm pulling for Toval."

  Mel scowled. "It's not a contest. I mean, the doctors said there was a chance I wouldn't even be able to conceive after my transition. Whoever the biological parent is, this baby belongs to both of them, just like Lucida and Jaspar belong to all of us."

  "How touching. I'd knit you a blanket, but they don't let me have sharp objects in here."

  "A better gift would be you getting to experience it with me."

  "I'm the last person you want in the delivery room."

  "There's a long way between now and then. Thankfully," he mumbled, reaching for the other omega's hand. "There's so much changing in the pack, in my life, most of it wonderful, and I want you to be part of it. We lost so much time, Connor. Please, let's not waste any more of it when we have a chance to be happy, together."

  Connor looked away, not trusting himself to shield his emotions well enough from the one person who was capable of affecting them. Mel's words stung as much as they were meant to heal. They were so close to the ones Connor had dreamed of hearing him say one day, but their circumstances weren't anything like the life he'd crafted so carefully for them both. He'd dreamed of ruling with Mel at his side, free to conquer and claim the world as they pleased, free of any alpha's authority or any pack's rules and customs. Free of the weak-willed omegas like their mother, who'd sold Mel into slavery when he was just a pup and damned both her children in doing so, and certainly free of the alphas who had turned their separate lives into equal portions of hell.

  He had once resented Mel for being able to love an alpha, but over the years, he could see how Hassan's uncharacteristic gentleness and unwavering patience had worn down Mel's defenses. If his brother had to love an alpha, Hassan certainly wasn't the worst. On some level, beneath the pride that railed against the very idea of it, he could acknowledge that Mel was better off than he ever had been and in some way, Connor was happy for him. That didn't stop him from grieving the loss of the life that might have been, but for once, he found himself able to look into the future and if it continued the way it was, it was every bit as bleak as the past.

  Loneliness. Isolation. With or without his freedom, those two had been Connor's constant companions. The choice Mel and the others were offering him wasn't between freedom and captivity like they seemed to think it was. As long as Mel remained in Mountain Ridge, Connor knew he would never truly be free. He had given that up the moment he'd made his decision to save his brother's life and hand him over to an alpha's claim. The choice before him was between sitting in a gilded cage for the rest of his life while the only person he had ever loved lived and aged and loved without him, or abandoning every principle that had kept him alive and angry enough to fight. As the years had worn on and Connor had become as cold and callused as the world that had molded him, he'd started to lose sight of the fact that he was fighting to keep the promise he'd made so long ago. To find Mel and to never let him go. In that sense, it wasn't much of a choice at all.

  Connor closed his eyes and breathed a heavy sigh into his empty glass. "I'm a bit rusty on the customs, so you'll have to tell me how it works. Is there a catalog I can choose from or something?"

  Mel's eyes lit up a thousand watts and he squeezed Connor's hands in both of his. "Really? You mean it?"

  "It's not like I have anything better to do, is it?" Connor asked with a self-loathing smile.

  Mel squeezed him tight enough that a few bones cracked and he let out a rush of breath with an, "Oof. Watch it, you'll crush the little parasite."

  Mel pulled back, giving him a scolding look that did nothing to dislodge the grin on his face. "You won't regret this, Connor. This pack has changed so much, it's nothing like the world we grew up in. There are so many things I want to show you, so many people I want you to meet."

  "And the mating will be in name only," he said, wanting to be clear on the fact.

  Mel hesitated. "Well, Mitchell said the Council will want to see a mark and that kind of involves..."

  "Yes, yes, I know how the biology works," he snapped. "All I have to do is let an alpha bite and fuck me once and I get a shiny scarlet letter to prove I'm interested in being a law-abiding member of society."

  Mel winced. "In the least romantic terms possible, yes."

  "Fine. I just want to get this over with as soon as possible."

  "It'll take some time," Mel said, blinking.

  "Why? It's not like it matters who it is. Just bring me an alpha, anyone will do."

  "Connor, you're going to have to make it look somewhat convincing," Mel said warily. "I mean, I guess there's no reason you have to live with him, but it should at least be someone you can tolerate."

  "Me, tolerating an alpha?" he laughed. "Not going to happen."

  "You don't seem to mind Hassan and Mitchell too much," Mel said in a knowing time.

  "I spend most of the day talking to a fish. I wouldn't take too much pride in that if I were them."

  "I'll talk to Mitchell," Mel said, still smiling as he stood. "I don't think he believed you'd go for it, but I'm sure it won't take him that long to arrange something. Barnabas can help, he's good at this sort of thing."

  "Lucky me," Connor said with a forced smile as Mel leaned in to kiss his cheek. He pretended to barely tolerate the other omega's display of affection until the door to his cell fell shut and he slumped further into the couch. "Lucky. Fucking. Me."

  Chapter Three

  DUKE

  Duke checked his appearance in the reflective glass window in the hallway outside of the Tribunal Chief's office. Lana, the female beta who was in charge of the judiciary organization that answered only to the Federation of Wolves itself, was all business and had little patience for an unkempt appearance. The former TTF leader Mel had hand-picked Duke as his replacement, and before that, the alpha had served as Blue Adler's successor as the team leader of FOWST, another clandestine organization that did the Federation's dirty work. None of that meant he was exempt from being scolded by a beta who barely came up to his shoulders and whos
e entire body spanned the circumference of his bicep. The last time, she had reamed him out for letting his stubble get out of control.

  Satisfied that he was up to code by HQ standards this time, Duke squared his shoulders and opened the door. Lana was sitting behind her desk, poring over a stack of papers that never seemed to lessen in height. She didn't look up at first, so he stood at attention and tried to look like he wasn't thinking about all the other shit he had to do. The latest flock of cadets was even cockier than the last, which meant he'd had them running extra drills all week. In turn, that meant he had little time to sleep between missions, field checks and the weekly visit he paid to make sure the Mountain Ridge Pack's most infamous prisoner remained where he should be.

  "At ease," Lana said, looking up at Duke over her rimless glasses.

  The alpha sat down, finding the standard office chair a bit flimsy for his burly frame. At six-foot-five with a muscular torso as thick as a tree trunk and the stern jaw to match, Duke was accustomed to having to prove that he was more than just another muscle headed alpha. Not that he could blame people for making the assumption when he knew plenty of wolves who fit the stereotype.

  While ambition was a common trait among alphas, Duke had always found himself on the outside of his peer group for the simple fact that most alphas saw success as a means to an end. The force driving them was usually the idea of impressing the right omega, having a few pups and maybe even leading a quaint little pack of their own. That was certainly the life Duke's family had hoped he would want. As the son of a Council Alpha and a cousin to Benjamin, the Alpha of the Cold Water Pack, Duke had been groomed for the role of Canyon Creek Alpha from birth. Unfortunately for him and his parents, the life of a small-town wolf had never lined up with his own dreams. The moment he had turned eighteen and enlisted in the Federation Army, he'd been hooked on the exhilaration of battle and the freedom that came with living life on the move, not tied down to any one pack--or to any one omega. Even an omega as obsessively driven as he was.