Omega House Books 6-10: Alpha Omega MPreg Romance Box Set
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Omega House Books 6-10
Alpha Omega MPreg Romance Box Set
Aria Grace
Copyright © 2019 by Aria Grace
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
An Alpha’s Touch
1. Seth
2. Zachary
3. Seth
4. Zachary
5. Seth
6. Zachary
7. Seth
8. Zachary
9. Seth
10. Zachary
11. Seth
12. Zachary
13. Seth
14. Zachary
15. Seth
16. Zachary
17. Seth
18. Zachary
19. Seth
20. Zachary
21. Seth
Epilogue
Omegas and Their Alpha
22. Jason
23. Farron
24. Garrett
25. Jason
26. Farron
27. Garrett
28. Jason
29. Farron
30. Garrett
31. Jason
32. Farron
33. Garrett
34. Jason
35. Farron
36. Garrett
37. Jason
38. Farron
39. Garrett
40. Jason
41. Farron
Epilogue
Omega Under the Mistletoe
42. Scotty
43. Nick
44. Scotty
45. Nick
46. Scotty
47. Nick
48. Scotty
49. Nick
50. Scotty
51. Nick
52. Scotty
53. Nick
54. Scotty
55. Nick
56. Scotty
57. Nick
Epilogue
Omega Healed
58. Billy
59. Landon
60. Billy
61. Landon
62. Billy
63. Landon
64. Billy
65. Landon
66. Billy
67. Landon
68. Billy
69. Landon
70. Billy
71. Landon
72. Billy
Epilogue
Alpha’s First Omega
73. Rubin
74. Marius
75. Rubin
76. Marius
77. Rubin
78. Marius
79. Rubin
80. Marius
81. Rubin
82. Marius
83. Rubin
84. Marius
85. Rubin
86. Marius
87. Rubin
Epilogue
An Alpha’s Touch
Omega House #6
By Aria Grace
1
Seth
My skin feels like it's on fire. My clothes are too tight, and I can't breathe. The pulsating music of the club thrums in my head, and I'm surrounded by the stench of sweat and alpha pheromones.
This was supposed to be a night to unwind and let off some steam. Just two best friends out to shake up the dance floor and maybe get lucky. Unfortunately, nothing feels right to me. Not that that's anything new. I've been in a funk these past few days that I just can't seem to shake. I'd hoped that heading out to the club with Jason would give me a chance to breathe a little. Forget my responsibilities to Omega House, and my new role as an uncle to my twin brother's kids.
It's not working.
The hungry eyes of all the alphas staring at me is making me a little queasy. More than one of them has made a pass at me tonight, and I'm just not feeling it.
I catch Jason's eye and wave him over to where I'm lingering near the door. He's been dancing with a foxy looking omega with a mischievous grin for the past hour. The two of them really seem to be hitting it off, so I don't feel too bad about ditching him early.
"Hey, why're you being such a party pooper?" Jason approaches with his new friend in tow. "Dante and I were just going to get something to drink. Let me buy you something too. It might cheer you up."
"I'm going to have to pass." I force myself to chuckle as I hold up my hands in protest. "I'm just not really into the club scene tonight. I think I'll just head home and get some sleep."
Jason is visibly disappointed by my statement.
Okay, there’s a little bit of guilt there, but I hold my ground. "Don't let me get in the way of your fun. You guys should definitely get some drinks and keep dancing. You've earned it after all your hard work this week." I nudge Jason back toward his new friend. He spent the past week helping with repairs on the fence around the Omega House backyard. It had gotten pretty battered up over the years and was less than secure. Now it's as good as new. Jason deserves the chance to let loose and unwind.
"You're not planning to walk back alone, are you?" Jason looks at me with concern in his eyes. "It's nearly midnight."
"I'll be fine. I've got my taser and the pepper spray. No one is getting within ten feet of me." I grin at him and give him another nudge.
Dante looks like he's starting to get bored with our conversation and seems eager to get back to the dance floor. I step close to Jason and whisper so only he can hear, "You've scored a really hot date. It would be a shame to let this opportunity go to waste. Go on."
Jason frowns and looks from me to Dante and back again. I know Jason's had a crush on me for a long time. For a little while, I thought I liked him back. But the honest truth is that I'm just not really into other omegas. We had a conversation to that effect a few months ago, and he's still one of my best friends. It'll be good for him to get out into the dating scene and spend some time around people who can actually give him what he's looking for.
"I'm gonna head on out." I step away from him and turn back toward the entrance to the club.
"Text me when you get home," Jason demands.
I wave over my shoulder to confirm I’ve heard him but say nothing as I make my escape.
The cool night air wraps around me and instantly soothes some of the discomfort I was feeling in that stuffy club. There's a slight chill in the breeze, and I shiver as I pull my jacket tighter across my chest. I glance across the parking lot at the small groups of people scattered among the parked cars. There is more than one vehicle with steamed up windows as the occupants get hot and heavy inside.
I furrow my brow and tromp across the parking lot away from the club.
I'm out of sorts.
My hormones are going crazy, and my libido is raging. If it wasn't for the fact that I've been taking suppressants, I might think I’m in heat. This is what I’ve heard it feels like. Unless the suppressants I have aren't working for some reason. Either way, the alphas in the club were more forward with me tonight than usual. But with the sort of mood I've been in these last few days, I just couldn’t find it in me to deal with any of their shit.
I reach into my jacket pocket and curl my fingers around the pepper spray canister I carry at all times. When you work at a home for battered omegas, you learn to take precautions.
It only takes a few minutes for me to reach the neighborhood I live in. I'm a few blocks over, trying to decide whether to take a shortcut down the creepiest street in town or go the long way around.
&nb
sp; The street is lined with massive old Victorian style houses that look like something straight out of a Gothic horror novel. Huge oak trees create a canopy over the street and many of them have already dropped their leaves, leaving naked branches stretching toward the sky.
It's a quiet little neighborhood, mostly inhabited by elderly people who keep to themselves. It's not a bad place to jog through during the day time. At night, however, it's definitely not the kind of street I feel comfortable walking down. Especially not when I'm completely alone.
I'm just about to take the long way around when I notice something really strange going on near one of the houses.
A big yellow moving van is parked on the curb in front of one of the larger houses. A number of people are unloading the van and carrying furniture and boxes inside the house and garage.
Who the hell would be moving in at this time of night? Most normal people would at least wait until daylight to do something like move all their stuff into a new house. I could justify maybe dragging a mattress and some blankets inside, but from the looks of things, they’re unloading everything in the van.
Something deep in the pit of my stomach draws me farther down the street without me realizing it. When I finally come to my senses, I'm lurking across the street from the moving van, hiding behind a street lamp. I probably look like a creepy stalker or a nosy neighbor, but my curiosity will not be sated. Especially when I finally notice someone standing off to the side of the front yard, watching the movers from the shadow of a massive oak tree.
It's really hard to make anything out from where I'm standing. The shadows are extremely deep, and they obscure everything except the rough shape of the individual. He's somewhat tall, and I think he's lean, but he also seems to be wearing baggy clothes like a hoodie or jacket. The only thing I'm unmistakably certain of is that he's an alpha. His scent is carried on the breeze, and it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
I'm immediately drawn to him.
I don't know anything about him, I haven't even really seen him, yet I already know I want to be as close to him as possible. Dirty thoughts run through my head about a sensual rendezvous behind the oak tree, and I can feel my cock begin to harden in response to the images in my mind.
I silently curse my raging hormones and swear to pick up a more powerful brand of suppressants first thing tomorrow. How the hell am I supposed to function when my body is going crazy over the mere silhouette of an alpha?
I clutch the lamp post in a white knuckled grip and stare through the darkness toward the alpha. I don't want to be caught peeping, but at the same time, it's everything I can do to keep myself rooted to this spot. There's a brief moment where I'm almost certain he’s looking straight at me. His face is in shadow, but I can almost feel his eyes dragging across my skin and undressing me where I stand. I feel vulnerable, exposed, and exhilarated all at the same time.
I want him to keep watching me.
When he turns his back, I feel like a spell has been broken. I release a breath and drop my chin to my sternum. If I hadn't been clutching the streetlamp, I might have fallen to my knees from my strength suddenly leaving me.
I’ve never felt like that before. Such a strong and immediate reaction to anything is unprecedented for me. I normally consider myself far more collected than this.
Regardless of what’s happening to me, I’m not about to fall prey to it again. I climb to my feet as quickly as possible and dart down the street without so much as a backward glance. I just need to get home.
2
Zachary
I usually prefer night to day. There are fewer people out and about once the shadows start to grow. Fewer nosy neighbors means few eyes watching me as I go about my business. With online delivery from twenty-four-hour grocery stores, I never have to set foot outside in broad daylight if I don't want to.
Which I usually don't.
I don't like the term "shut-in," but it's probably accurate given my habits. I just don't really do well around lots of people. Especially strangers. I wouldn't say I'm scared, just…averse to uncomfortable situations. Public interactions leave me unsettled, and small talk is distasteful. I prefer it when people keep to themselves and don't engage with me much.
As I stand in the front yard of my new house and watch the movers unload my furniture, I can't help but feel a deep sense of relief. I've finally managed to escape. My mother, her endless string of boyfriends, and the dead-end situation I’ve been trapped in are all behind me now. The truth is, I probably could've struck out on my own a lot sooner. I've been running my own home-based business for years now, and I'm entirely financially independent from my mother. But my mother has always been good at manipulating me. There’s always one reason or another why I couldn't leave before. It’s my fault, really. I allowed myself to be caught up in her ridiculous excuses and stayed in that house for far longer than I should have.
The only reason I'm here now is because of Grandma. Well, her and a chance phone call that I happened to get from the bank asking me if I was really interested in selling my house. Imagine my surprise when I found out that my grandmother, who passed away nearly three years ago, left me her old house and that my mother had kept it a secret and was trying to sell it behind my back.
I was livid.
Turns out that was the kick in the ass I needed to get myself out from under her thumb. I called up a moving company that very day.
I really don't want to think about my mother's nefarious plots anymore. The house is entirely mine now. It's completely paid off, and while it may be a little run down, it's actually in great condition for such an old building. My income has been growing exponentially, even though I’m frugal about most things. If I'm smart about how I use it, I'll be able to get the building back in tip top shape over the next year.
That thought puts a smile on my face as I tuck my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie. I'm probably one of the least stylish people I've ever met. My wardrobe is more focused on comfort than fashion, and that's just fine with me. When you're a night-owl and a loner like me, you don't spend a lot of time with other people, so who cares how I dress?
But I'm not a slob by any stretch of the word. I may be a loner, but I'm not an animal.
A gentle breeze shifts and blows through the branches of the massive tree in my yard. The wind carries with it the scent of an omega unlike anything I've ever smelled before. I fight the urge to turn my gaze toward him, but I can feel his eyes on me from across the street.
I really detest omegas and the drama they tend to bring into my life. Every pseudo relationship I've ever had has crashed and burned before it ever really got off the ground. I'm not going to pretend I'm innocent and they're entirely to blame, but I’m usually not the drama queen on a date. Of course, I could've made more of an effort to find common interests and support their weird alpha fantasies, but I never particularly wanted to.
The omega watching me from across the street is a bit annoying. His scent is sending goose bumps prickling across my skin, and I feel a surge of energy pulse through my veins. The strange part is, the smell isn't that of an omega in heat. It's different, subtler, though the message it's sending me is no less incessant. My primal instincts are telling me that I need to go talk to him, but my head is keeping me firmly anchored in reality.
A mover trips on the sidewalk and almost drops the box he’s carrying. Shit. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.
Moving at night seemed like a great idea at first. Specifically, because I could avoid nosy neighbors and lookie-loos. A lot of good that’s doing. This guy is obviously hoping I’ll notice him.
But, he’s going to be disappointed.
I'm not gonna go chat up some random omega in the middle of the night just because he smells nice.
Still, I can't keep my curiosity completely at bay. I turn my head slowly and glance toward him.
He's standing behind the streetlamp, holding on to it as if he's about to be blown away by h
urricane force winds.
It's obvious from here that he's good looking. He's dressed up as if he's coming from a nice party or a club. The look on his face seems desperate, and I might just be imagining it, I think his cheeks are flushed. He's staring right at me, though I'm certain the shadows are too deep for him to really see anything clearly.
My heart is fluttering in my chest, and I recognize the telltale signs of an impending panic attack. I press a palm to ribs and try to will myself to be calm, but this omega is sending all my senses into overdrive.
I'm wracked with indecision as I consider what to do. On the one hand, I absolutely do not want to talk to anyone right now. More than that, this feeling, his scent, everything is telling me that if I talk to him, things aren't going to just stay casual. I don’t want a relationship right now. I just want to focus on getting my life back on track, so I can move forward with my business.