Omega's Hope: An MPREG Shifter Romance

by Noah Harris

Maybe, for now, just in this moment, it'll be alright if he pretends Christopher actually does care about him, that everything will be alright.

  "I know I'm being selfish," he says, though he's not sure why. He doesn't want to admit it aloud, but the shock and ease of the moment has the truth spilling from his lips. "I know it, but it's so hard thinking about the baby. I can't feel it. All I can tell is that I'm getting bigger by the day, and that's preventing me from being human. It's stopping me from living the life I've built and where I feel useful and happy. It's just an obstacle in the way." His breath shudders out of him, and his fingers curl into his shirt, nails biting into the skin of his belly beneath. "If I stop taking wolfsbane, my wolf will start getting stronger again. My instincts will come back." He feels the fresh flood of tears down his cheeks, soaking into Christopher's shirt. "I don't know how to deal with them," he whispers, voice wavering as his breath becomes ragged. "I don't like them. I don't like being a wolf. Why is everything so hard? It's all so confusing, and I don't know what to do." He chokes off a sob. There’s a deep rumble vibrating in Christopher's chest to calm him.

  "How long has it been since you last let your wolf out?" he whispers.

  Timothy sniffs, and says in a small voice, "Four years."

  Christopher stills, then cautiously, "Since…?"

  "Yeah, since that day."

  He lets out a long breath that ruffles Timothy's hair. "No wonder you're so wound up. Your wolf is probably restless."

  "My wolf is weak, and I barely hear it anymore. I've been taking wolfsbane for four years."

  Christopher stiffens again but doesn't comment. Instead, he gently pulls away, holding Timothy by the arms so he can look at him. He waits, and Timothy sniffs loudly and wipes his eyes and nose with his sleeves. Only after a moment does he find the courage to look up through his lashes.

  Christopher's expression is stern, but not unkind. "As much as you don't like it, your wolf is part of who you are. It'll be easier to balance these things if you learn to live with it, rather than try to kill it. You're fighting a war with yourself, Timothy." His hand moves, lifting to cup Timothy's jaw and force him to look up at him more fully. A calloused thumb brushes over his cheek. "What happened four years ago…that was my fault. You tried to embrace who you were, and I failed you." His smile is small, genuine even if it looks sad. "You're right. You shouldn't live a lupine life that contradicts your human one. But instead of separating them, maybe you should try bringing them together."

  "No," he snaps, a little too quickly as panic starts to bubble up again. He can feel the tears welling up again. Voice broken and soft as he whispers, "It's impossible. I hate my wolf. I hate it."

  Christopher's smile doesn't fade, and his thumb brushes away the one tear that falls. "Maybe you should just try? Just once, for now. Just see what it's like now. See if it's any different." Timothy presses his lips tight, looking away. He's conflicted, and he's feeling defeated. Christopher takes his silence as a good sign to continue. "You don't need to do anything special. You don't even have to leave this room, and I'll be here the whole time." When Timothy doesn't respond, Christopher presses. "Maybe it will help you make sense of this whole situation. Our wolves have a way of breaking things down to simple necessities far easier than our human sides can."

  He has a point, as much as Timothy hates to admit it. He's tired and drained, and nothing else seems to be working for him, so why not?

  He sighs. "Fine." He keeps his gaze away from Christopher's face, catching just the glimpse of his shocked and pleased smile is enough to make the rest of his stubborn pride crumble.

  He gets off the bed, pulling out of Christopher's grip. The alpha doesn't follow him, only sits and watches as Timothy moves to an open space in the room. He strips, slowly and methodically, back toward the alpha. "I haven't done this in a while," he mumbles.

  "Take your time," Christopher says, voice patient and even.

  When he's ready, he tilts his head back, letting out a long, slow breath. He closes his eyes, hands flexing at his sides, and tries to do what he hasn't done in four years; tap into his inner wolf.

  It takes a while for him to find it. It's been battered and bruised and kept weak throughout the years by the poison he's taken daily. Still, it's there. He's never been able to fully kill it, and for a moment, as he reaches out to it, Timothy is almost proud. His wolf has taken so much abuse over the years, from others and from himself, but it's never given in and never given up. It's survived, just like he has.

  Maybe they're not so different after all.

  It's with that thought that his wolf awakens, lifting its head, weak but curious. It takes far more concentration than it used to, but he's never had walls built this high. It takes a moment to dismantle them and let himself relax enough to give over control. Even as he feels his wolf shift and stir, as if shaking off the shackles that have kept it bound, he feels himself tense, pulling back with a wave of fear and panic that he's drilled into himself.

  But then there's a warm hand on his back. Not pressing or pushing. Christopher is just there. Standing firm and confident behind him. Grounding him and letting him focus. To let himself give in.

  He gasps as the shift takes hold. It's a swirl of pain that seizes his body. He feels it crack his bones, muscles going taut and tense as they flex. He falls to his knees as the fire of it burns through him, and for a moment, he panics. He's not used to the pain anymore. It hurts far more than he remembers, and it doesn't go as quickly as it should. His wolf is too weak to make it a smooth shift, but it tries, and Timothy gives over more control in a desperate plea to get it over with quicker.

  By the time his body has reshaped and reformed, he's lying on the ground, body limp and chest heaving as he pants. As everything clicks into place, a sense of relief floods him. The adrenaline of shifting has always been addictive, a flood of endorphins and excitement that comes on the tail end of his senses sharpening. Everything clicks into place and just feels right, chasing all the pain away.

  It's a better feeling than he thought it would be.

  It takes him a moment to realize Christopher has shifted beside him. He sits patiently, with an almost regal posture. His tail swishes slowly behind him, ears perked forward as he stares intently at Timothy. He's large and imposing, in both stature and presence, fur dark as night and thick, with a healthy shine.

  As soon as his scent reaches Timothy, he has the innate urge to submit. The alpha's scent is strong and overwhelming, curling in his lungs and pushing him to his feet. He backs away on shaking legs, lowering his head and shifting his tail between his legs.

  He doesn't like it. He doesn't like being pushed to submit like this. It's embarrassing and humiliating, and this is exactly why he never wanted to be a wolf again.

  But then Christopher is nudging him with his nose, pushing him to lift his head. He looks up curiously, and the large wolf licks his muzzle. It's startling enough that Timothy jerks away, nearly falling, but Christopher's reflexes have him at Timothy's side in a second, holding him up. Timothy is still reeling as the larger wolf guides him slowly toward the bed, helping and encouraging him to jump up onto it.

  He still can't believe it. Licking one's muzzle is a sign of submission. An alpha would never stoop so low as to show that sort of affection to an omega.

  And yet Christopher had.

  Once on the bed, he curls up on his side, not quite trusting himself to stand much longer. Christopher lies beside him. He doesn't touch him but lies close enough that Timothy can feel the heat of his body and is surrounded by his soothing scent.

  Timothy is in awe of how simple and pure things are in that moment. When it's just them and no pack around, things are easier. Things seem less complicated. Human emotions seem dull and faded as he lets his head rest near Christopher, closing his eyes as the alpha licks his muzzle once more.

  In that moment, Christopher has no jealousy or anger. Nothing about him presses his dominance over Timothy. He's simply there, a be
acon of empathy, comfort, and support.

  And Timothy finds himself thinking that if this was the way things always were, then he wouldn't mind being a wolf so much.

  It's as they're lying there in silence, content with each other's presence, that Timothy feels something strange. Something…new. It's not a third presence. It's far too small and weak to be called that. But, it’s almost like it has the potential to be.

  For the first time, he feels the small pulse of something inside him. A heartbeat. Small and soft, but pulsing. A presence inside him. The start of something new.

  Warmth blooms in his chest, a pride and excitement that he’s been missing. He can feel the bond forming between himself and the life inside him, weak and tremulous, but with so much potential to grow.

  He shifts, curling closer to Christopher, not protesting when the alpha curls around him and rests his head on Timothy's neck. He closes his eyes and lets himself take in Christopher's scent, his mate's scent.

  For the first time in four years, Timothy lets himself relax. He loosens his vice-like grip on his hurt and betrayal, on his fear and anxiety, and lets himself…simply be.

  Christopher

  The next day, Christopher takes Timothy to the infirmary they have on base to get a check up on his pregnancy. Surprisingly, it didn't take as much convincing as he’d anticipated. But then again, last night had been a major turning point for Timothy, and, if he's being honest, for himself as well.

  After their nap, Timothy's body seemed to finally adjust to being in his wolf form once more. He was stronger, no longer shaking and precariously holding on to balance himself, panting as if holding the form was a physical effort. He seemed more confident, too, both in himself and in how he interacted with Christopher. He still sent the alpha a few wary glances, but when Christopher made no move to subdue him or demand obedience, simply content to lay there lazily and watch him, Timothy gained confidence.

  He explored the room, sniffing at things and adjusting to his sharper senses. Every little sound had his ears pricking up, head tilting in an adorably innocent display of curiosity.

  Most heartwarming of all, however, was how fascinated he’d been with his own belly. Christopher had watched from his perch on the bed as Timothy chased his own tail in the middle of the room, yipping with delight. He continued in slow circles, trying to sniff at his own bulging belly. And when he settled back down on the bed next to Christopher, he’d been content to simply lick the spot where his baby grew, as if trying to take care of it.

  Given the display of affection he’d shown last night, it's little surprise that Timothy had willingly, if shyly, agreed to see a doctor.

  Thankfully, the base not only houses his soldiers, but also their families. And as such, they have a doctor on the premises that specialized in lupine pregnancy and children.

  The woman had eyed Timothy skeptically when they’d come in. She had no doubt already heard the rumors flying around the pack about the unmated pregnant omega staying with their alpha. She was smart enough not to question it, however, especially when Christopher hovered so close to Timothy's side and stared her down, as if daring her to refuse them.

  Once she got into the examination, however, her demeanor changed. Professional and seemingly genuinely excited over the prospect of a pregnancy and new wolf children, she smiles as she eyes the ultrasound screen. "Would you like to know the gender of your baby?"

  Timothy stares at the screen, eyes wide and lips parted in awe. He shakes his head. "No," he says softly, a smile pulling at his lips. "I want it to be a surprise."

  The woman nods, eyes shining with her own smile as she puts the device away, reaching out with a cloth to clean the gel from Timothy's belly. "I understand. I decided the same with my children." When she's done, she stands, and Timothy sits up, pulling his shirt back down over his bump. "Well, everything seems to be perfectly in order. No abnormalities in your pregnancy so far. We'll have to wait for the blood results to come back to make sure the wolfsbane hasn't done any internal damage." She pauses, eyeing Timothy with stern disapproval. He looks away, shifting sheepishly. The woman sighs, turning to Christopher. "I'll call you when the results are in, but I don't anticipate any complications."

  "Thank you," Christopher says, nodding.

  "Um…" Timothy clears his throat, drawing her attention back to him. He keeps his eyes down, hands gingerly moving over his belly as he mumbles, "How far along do you think I am?"

  She gives him a strange look but doesn't question it. Instead she hums softly, tilting her head as she thinks. "I'd say about nineteen weeks, give or take.

  "Nineteen weeks…" Timothy repeats softly, barely audible. He frowns, brows furrowed.

  Christopher feels a stirring of anger in his gut, twisting uncomfortably at the thought of whatever man had Timothy in his arms nineteen weeks ago, but he takes a deep breath and lets it go. Now isn't the time.

  They thank the doctor and return to Christopher's home.

  "You have to take things easy from now on," Christopher says as he guides Timothy to the large armchair in his living room. He helps the omega sit, bringing him pillows and a blanket and tucking him in.

  "I don't need all this," Timothy huffs, rolling his eyes, but there's the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

  "Well, now you have it in case you do."

  Timothy sighs, slouching into the seat and accepting his cozy fate. He curls under the blanket, pulling out his phone to go through his emails. Christopher retreats from the room, intent on making dinner, but he pauses in the doorway, half turned to look back over the omega. Timothy doesn't seem to notice, brows furrowed in concentration as his eyes skim over his phone screen.

  As his eyes drift to where Timothy is absently rubbing circles on his belly, Christopher braces himself for the wave of jealousy he's become accustomed to, only to be surprised when it doesn't come. It itches at the back of his mind, with just the barest trickle of discomfort seizing in his chest, but it fades quickly. He knows if he dwells on it, his anger will surface once more, full of righteous fury. But he's decided to set that aside.

  He's not sure when he made that decision, but he's fairly certain it was last night.

  Being in wolf form has a way of simplifying things. He's always been good at picking up the base emotions of other wolves. Between reading their body language and their scent, it's fairly easy. He's in tune enough with his own inner wolf to read others quite well. But with Timothy, it had been an entirely different experience.

  It must be their bond, he thinks. Despite having only mated once, their bond still formed. No matter how weak and faded and tremulous it may be, it's stronger in their lupine forms. He's able to feel the trickle of emotions through their bond, drifting through his heart and swelling in his chest like a breeze. He feels the emotions as if they were his own, but they have no anchor in his own heart, making them easy to recognize as Timothy's.

  And what he felt the most from Timothy the night before had been a forlorn sadness and looming loneliness. But he also felt the joy when Timothy bonded with his baby. He felt the quiet contentment as they lay together. He felt the tentative curiosity and hesitant trust as he curled close to Christopher.

  He felt no conniving emotions. No calculated deceitfulness or longing for someone else. Everything he felt was so innocently genuine, laid bare and open. He can’t explain it, but in his wolf state, he came to accept that somehow Timothy had wound up pregnant, but that he hadn't cheated on their bond.

  It's impossible, and in his human mind once more, he realizes that. He knows there has to be another man that Timothy laid with to wind up pregnant, but the lingering acceptance from his wolf calms any jealousy he might have. He sensed nothing treacherous in Timothy's nature.

  So he's decided to set aside his petty jealousy for now. Timothy's wellbeing is what's important, his heath and the baby's. His mate is back in his life, and for that, he's grateful.

  His human need for reason and logic is still there, b
ut it's easily drowned out by his wolf's acceptance and certainty that there's nothing to worry about. It's illogical, but it's intuitive and instinctual. And Christopher has always been a slave to his instincts. His life has only ever gone awry when he's ignored his wolf's intuition.

  When he's finished cooking, he brings Timothy a plate full of food, more reasonably proportioned than his attempts at breakfast the day before. Timothy is exactly where he left him, snuggled in the armchair with the blankets and pillows he’d protested about. When he sets aside his phone, he looks far more tired than he had before, stress lining his eyes and brow, but he smiles as Christopher passes him the plate, adjusting in his seat so he can better eat.

  Christopher sits on the couch nearby, as close as he can get, setting his own plate on the coffee-table. But he doesn't eat. Not yet. He sits leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees as he wrings his fingers between them, cracking his knuckles as he stares absently at his plate.

  He can feel Timothy's eyes on him, but he doesn't press, simply waiting for Christopher to say whatever is clearly on his mind.

  He takes a deep breath, letting his eyes squeeze shut. This isn't something he talks about. In fact, he's fairly certain he never has. But, he needs, no…he wants Timothy to understand. Whatever they have growing between them is fragile and new, and he wants it to grow further. To do so, he knows he needs to let his mate in.

  "My parents were human," he says in a rush, speaking through a clenched jaw. He pauses, and he can feel the thickness of the silence. Timothy has stopped moving, but Christopher doesn't open his eyes, knowing he has the omega's attention. "My parents were human," he says again, easier this time. "We lived in the country, a small town far from a big city. The kind of place where everyone knows everyone and gossip travels fast. My parents were poor and uneducated, but we made enough to survive, and they were good people. They had good hearts. They just…they couldn't protect me," he whispers, feeling his heart ache.