“And you leave our packs alone,” Adam says. “No stalking omegas. No fighting humans because they’re there.”
Like father, like son, Adam thinks, but if Ash turns into a younger copy of Isaiah, that won’t be a bad thing at all.
“Stay out,” Ash repeats again.
Adam sighs. “We’ll stay out.”
He raises his eyebrows at Max Foster and Barbara Warwick who repeat his words, Barbara sounding a little more irritated than Max who just appears amused.
It takes another twenty minutes to demonstrate how the pen works while repeating the assurances over and over, before Ash finally manages to make his mark on each of the four pack agreements.
Max Foster signs with a flourish, followed by Barbara making her usual illegible squiggle. Adam signs last, then quickly checks each document to make sure all the i’s are dotted and the t’s crossed.
“All done,” he says, handing each leader the final agreement.
Ash sniffs his, then shifts immediately, carrying away the agreement in his mouth. Adam would put good money on the paperwork ending up in a hole in the ground.
Max Foster puts out his hand and shakes Adam’s again. “Good work. Let’s hope it’s a long time before we have to do another of these things.”
“Let’s hope,” Adam replies. The pack agreements are usually only re-signed when there’s a new leader, and that usually means a death. He doesn’t want to have to do it again any time soon.
Max heads out the ballroom with a wave. Adam watches him go.
That’s three pack agreements that he’s signed now, and three summits he’s presided over. Long may they be as easy as this one.
Adam turns towards the buffet table, intending to get started on packing up, when he realizes that he’s not alone. Barbara Warwick is still there, standing with her hands on her hips, eyes like steel on his. The cousins are nowhere to be seen.
“I need a word with you, Adam Winterstoke.”
Adam’s heart sinks. He’s not heard that tone of voice in many years. The feeling is followed by a flash of annoyance. He’s not eighteen anymore. He’s not cowed by her either.
Or at least, not as much as I used to be, he admits to himself.
“Sure thing, Barbara,” he replies casually as he can. “What can I do for...”
A familiar scent hits him like a freight train. His knees weaken and buckle and he has to reach out to the buffet table to steady himself.
As if compelled, his head whips towards the doors opening onto the forest.
The world disappears and narrows to a single point.
There he is. Thomas Warwick.
Not back from the dead, but at least back from Coventry or Fort Gosford, or whatever place he’d disappeared to ten years ago, leaving Adam behind.
THOMAS
puppy dog eyes and the edge of the forest
Thomas sees him first. He’s thought about Adam Winterstoke every day for the last ten years.
He’s wondered if he’s aged, and if his eyes are still so dark and serious, and if he still has that determined tension in his jaw.
It turns out that he does.
He’s also bigger. A lot bigger. Eighteen-year-old Adam had been tall and slender, but not yet grown into his full alphahood.
The man standing in the middle of the Foresters Inn ballroom is enormous. He’s six-foot-six if not taller, and instead of lithe strength, it’s now just raw power.
Adam’s casually dressed, and Thomas can make out the muscles beneath his shirt.
His face has filled out, and there are thin lines at the corner of his eyes. He’s let his hair grow too. It’s longer. It’s no longer the strict military style that his father had preferred.
Then the moment changes.
Adam startles. His head swivels so fast, it looks like it hurts.
For a split second, they stand there staring at each other like a pair of idiots. Or dumbstruck lovers.
“Not this again. For the love of God,” he hears Mom say.
Thomas gives his head a mental shake. They’d gone over this at the farm.
Remember what you’re here for. You’re here to distract Adam Winterstoke, not so that Adam can distract you.
Then Thomas loses that train of thought completely, because Adam is striding over, and that’s changed too.
It’s one of the things he remembers about Adam: long legs striding confidently, the muscles bunching as they walked or ran or swam or climbed the trees at the farm, high above Thomas in the trees.
Adam, the handsome alpha boy from the mountains come down to play with the Warwick brothers.
Adam’s stride is still confident as ever, but it’s precise, not casual. Thomas can’t quite put his finger on it, but something isn’t right.
Adam’s scent hits a moment later. That hasn’t changed at all. It’s still pure heaven.
They stare at each other for the briefest moment, then Adam puts out his hand. “Good to see you again.”
Thomas takes it. Adam’s hand is warm and soft, and he wants to use it to pull Adam closer so he can bury his nose in the dip of his neck and finally breathe in that delicious alpha smell.
He doesn’t.
He shakes Adam’s hand like they’re just mere acquaintances and says, “Hey.”
Hey. Ugh. It really is like being eighteen again. A flush of embarrassment rises from the tips of his toes.
Damn Mom. Damn the city wolves. Damn every single person who is responsible for dragging him from his life and back into the orbit of the utterly irresistible Adam Winterstoke.
Can we have a word?” Mom says again. “We need a favor.”
And there it is. The reason Mom made him come along. Thomas isn’t here for any reason other than to blindside Adam so he’ll agree to everything Mom asks.
For everything that Mom says about wanting omega rights, she’s not ashamed to use her own son like a bargaining chip.
“Sure, what can I do for you?” There’s a tone of concern in Adam’s voice. His dark brown eyes meet Thomas’ and Thomas picks up another new thing: suspicion.
The old Adam had a lot of faults but being suspicious of the Warwicks was never one of them. He’d always trusted too easily.
He’d trusted Thomas for one thing and he never should have done that.
“Let’s talk outside,” Mom says.
“Sure,” Adam gestures with a single hand for Mom to lead the way.
Adam makes small talk as they follow her, “So, how’ve you been?”
“Fine. How about you?”
Adam nods as if that’s the answer he was expecting. “Also fine. Everything’s good.”
“Great.” Oh my god. Are they really having this conversation?
Once Thomas could say anything to Adam. No secrets. No holding back. It was the most natural thing in the world to be with him. Now, he has hardly any idea what to say next.
With the exception of a handful of trucks and the car Thomas arrived in, the parking lot is almost empty.
All three of them scan it anyway.
The Foresters Inn is situated in what used to be an old logging camp. The trees around them haven’t been given much of a chance to grow back.
The edge of the trees is a long way off and there’s no one in sight or visible among any of the parked trucks.
“Right,” Mom says, leaning back against her truck and still looking left and right as if checking for eavesdroppers.
“Anything for you,” Adam says but he’s looking at Thomas when he says it, and Thomas’s heart flips over at the words.
To his side, he can feel Mom’s smugness radiating off of her as if she’s been vindicated in bringing Thomas along.
But Adam’s not done talking. “I’m guessing it’s to do with the reason Thomas is here. What is it?”
The last sentence isn’t quite spat out, but it’s alpha directness through and through.
Adam also appears to have given up any pretense of the reason for his stride changin
g. He’s standing heavily to one side, rubbing his hip. There’s a pinched look to his eyes as if he’s unexpectedly tired.
“We need to invoke the pack agreement,” Mom says.
“That’s your right.” Adam’s eyes narrow at the corners, and Thomas is reminded again that this isn’t the Adam he knew. That Adam would have jumped at the opportunity for a little excitement. This one just looks tired and more than a little cynical.
What happened to you?
“What do you need?” Adam asks, eyes still fixed on Mom. She might have brought Thomas to distract him, but his full attention is on the other alpha now. Thomas might as well be on the moon.
“Nothing bad,” Mom says. “No fighting. Or at least, I hope not. I need you to hide some people for us.”
“Who?”
“Thomas and some others.”
Adam glances over at Thomas, then back at Mom. The expression in his eyes is unreadable. “Are you going to give me any more information than that?” he asks. “Who’s looking for them?”
“Aidan Ronmin,” Mom says. “You know him?”
Adam flinches.
That’s a yes, Thomas thinks.
“We’ve had dealings,” Adam admits. “He’s a...problem.”
“He’s a self-satisfied dick is what he is,” Mom says.
Adam bursts into laughter. “I won’t argue with that one.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “We’ll do it. You know we will. I just need to pay the bill for the Inn and then I’m at your disposal. I’m assuming we need to move fast.”
He doesn’t wait for Mom to answer. He just nods and strides off in the direction of the inn.
When he’s out of earshot, Mom says, “Seriously, boy. You’re not eighteen anymore. You’re a grown man and a father, and you have responsibilities. I have no problem with you making puppy dog eyes. They’ll do us good but for the love of everything that’s holy, you deserve better than a Winterstoke.”
“Mom—”
“You know it. I know it. And he knows it.”
“Mom—”
“I’m serious. You’re a parent now. And this is the worst time for you to get your head turned by some pretty alpha.”
“I know. I’ve been committed to those responsibilities for the last decade, haven’t I?”
Mom grunts. She might not believe him fully but she’s at least satisfied enough to leave it. “I need to get back. I’ve got half a dozen men leaving fake scents between the farm and Charen Peak. That should buy us some time.”
“Thanks Mom.”
She shrugs, and rifles in her coveralls pockets for her truck keys. The pack agreement has been folded and tucked into the top pocket. Thomas looks at her.
The years haven’t been kind to her. The gray at her temple and white streaks in her hair aren’t the half of it. Her face is worn and tired.
“Mom?”
“Hmm?” Mom turns round, expecting a last argument perhaps. She gets a bear hug instead. Thomas wraps his arms around her and squeezes.
“I’ve missed you, you know.”
“I know. I missed you too, dear.” Mom untangles Thomas’ arms and steps back, looking him up and down. “Look after yourself and remember... “
“I know. Never trust alphas. Not even the nice ones.”
Adam’s figure appears again, just as her truck rounds the bend and disappears. Thomas watches him crossing the parking lot. He’s still the most beautiful man that Thomas has ever seen, and all he wants to do is run over to him and snuggle up in his arms.
It doesn’t matter what he wants. Mom is right.
Never trust alphas. Especially the nice ones. They’re the ones that screw you over hardest of all.
ADAM
Warwick cider and an old cabin
Adam is aware of Thomas’ eyes on him as he makes his way across the parking lot.
He’s going to do it right this time. He’s not sure how, but he will. He is going to show Thomas that he’s not the same impulsive boy. He’s worth sticking with this time.
He’s been on his feet for a solid seventy minutes now and pain is streaking up his leg and pinching into the lower part of his back. His foot is going numb: always a sign of worse to come.
He walks as steadily as he can. Thomas can’t know how broken he is. A small voice in his head insists that he needs to stop being so pigheaded and that he has nothing to be ashamed of. He pushes it down hard.
Thomas is leaning against an unfamiliar car parked in at the far end of the lot.
The windows at the back are tinted but he recognizes the alpha in the driver’s seat instantly.
Lex Warwick gives him a wide grin as he steps out of the car. His is another face that Adam hasn’t seen in years.
Lex grabs one of Adam’s hands and uses the other to clap Adam hard on the back. It jolts the small of Adam’s spine and sends searing pain down his leg.
Lex never did know his own strength.
It didn’t used to matter.
“Hey, old man,” Lex says. “You got real tall.”
“Right back at you,” Adam says, and Lex has. He’s on a par with Adam now, and looks like he’s been carved out of rock.
“What’s with the limp?” Lex asks. He always was direct.
“Got into a fight,” Adam replies.
“Did you win?”
“Yes.”
Lex roars with laughter. “Well, that’s the important bit.”
He leans back against the car, folding his arms. “So, you got a place for Thom and the others?”
“Thinking about the old Van Zyle cabin. You remember it?”
Lex grins. “Can’t forget. First time I got drunk enough to be sick. Lot of firsts actually.”
For all of us, Adam thinks.
Lex steps away from the car and tosses Adam the keys. “Sounds good to me. I’ve got to get back to the farm. Look after my little cousin, will ya?”
“I will,” Adam says seriously.
Lex claps him on the back again. “Of course, you will.”
He waves as he leaves.
“You want to drive?” Adam asks.
Thomas shrugs. “Sure.”
The car is a low one, sunk close to the ground with a low-hanging roof. Adam knocks his head on it as he attempts to get into the passenger seat without twisting his hip.
“Oh, for f—”
There are two other omegas and a child in the back of the car. The eyes of all three widen when Adam slides into the passenger seat, and the car fills with the stink of fear.
Adam bites the curse back just as Thomas gets in.
Thomas glances into the back as if checking that everyone is still there and accounted for. He breathes out, then twists in the seat so he can talk to them face to face.
“This is Adam.”
Adam says hello. The kid says hello back then returns to the screen in front of him. The omegas keep staring. Neither of them says anything, and the scent of fear doesn’t diminish.
“You can trust him,” Thomas continues. “I’ve known him all of my life.”
‘You’ can trust him. Not ‘we’ can trust him, Adam notices.
Was that deliberate? Or maybe it was nothing at all, and Adam is reading something into it that isn’t there. Does Thomas really trust him or does he just have no other options?
Adam realizes Thomas is looking at him expectantly. Oh right.
“The Van Zyle cabin is still empty. We can go there.”
He feels his face redden as he mentions the name. The place won’t be a source of good memories for Thomas, but it can’t be helped. It’s the safest place for all of them.
Thomas doesn’t say anything. He just starts the car.
“It’s a good distance from the town and hardly anyone knows it’s there. I don’t think it has much by way of bedding or food but we can get some,” Adam continues, feeling himself begin to babble.
Change the subject, idiot.
“So, what have you been doing with yourself?” he says instead.
It feels like a casual question, but the omegas in the car, including Thomas, tense. Thomas’ gaze darts to Adam, then back to the road. He licks his lips with a soft pink tongue. Adam can just about see the gears working in his head. For some reason, it’s a sensitive question.
Adam gives him an out. “And how’s the family? I haven’t seen Lex in years.”
Thomas glances at him again, and this time there’s a small soft smile played against his lips as if he appreciates the change of subject.
“Well. Mom’s starting to get on a bit but you know her. She doesn’t stop working.”
“It’s paying off,” Adam says. “You can’t walk into a bar in fifty miles without seeing Warwick cider on the menu. Looks like the brewery is doing well. I hear the Taprooms are doing well too.”
Adam hasn’t walked onto a Warwick-owned business in ten years. He’s abided by the rules that Barbara set. Everything he knows about them, he knows via hearsay or his brothers.
Thomas answers just as casually. “Yeah, we’ve been putting in a lot of work into those.”
The scent of fear from the backseat has started to recede. Adam risks a glance.
The boy is absorbed in playing a game on the tablet on his lap. The two omegas stare straight back at him with nervous eyes, and Adam realizes that Thomas hasn’t introduced any of them by name.
He turns his attention back to the road. Thomas hasn’t needed to ask for directions once, even though it must have been a long time since he’s been anywhere near the Van Zyle cabin.
Not ‘must have been’. It has been. Adam checks on the place every few months, and if even the slightest trace of Thomas’ scent remained after a visit, he would have picked it up.
Thomas won’t have been there since...
Adam’s stomach twists, remembering what he did. It’s difficult to forget. The evidence is right in front of him in the form of the ugly scar on Thomas’ neck.
Even worse, there’s a part of him – the alpha part – that is deeply satisfied by that scar. That alpha part of him is roaring ‘mine’ and urging him to tell Thomas to stop the car so he can take him by the side of the road, good manners be damned.
Winterstoke Wolves Collection : An MM Mpreg Shifter Romance Bundle Page 40
