Wild Ride: An M/M Shifter Mpreg Romance Bundle

by Preston Walker

  Oscar sighed again and rubbed his temple as if the conversation was giving him a headache.

  "Or something. Six generations ago, one alpha ruled the entire region. He took two queens: a male and a female. This was a break from tradition, but the kingdom accepted it with very little outcry. That is, until it was discovered that the male queen was pregnant, as was the female. Male pregnancy has always been sort of hush-hush. It isn't something to be talked about in polite company. Now, however, there was a problem. The firstborn alpha in the royal bloodline becomes the new king once the old one has passed on and certain stipulations are met, right?"

  "Right."

  "So the two queens go into labor the same night. Midwives are rushed to the palace. The male queen is having a terrible time of it and will surely die without immediate assistance. The midwives work hard through the night and, by morning, four perfect pups are born: two alphas and two betas. As soon as the birth was announced, the riots began. The populace insisted that the king tell them the exact moment of each birth so as to name a successor. He couldn't. Neither could the midwives. Both deliveries had been overwhelming and dramatic, and there had been no time to check the moments of birth. Tensions grew, riots were a daily occurrence, and each person had a favorite queen and was willing to fight their neighbor to defend their chosen successor's honor. This lasted for twelve years. The four pups grew up hating one another. They were constantly competing for the right to the throne, until finally, the king had enough. He knew they would kill each other, and quickly, as soon as they'd passed through puberty to manhood, so he split the kingdom in two, and bequeathed half to each of them."

  "So... problem solved?"

  "Not quite. By then the damage had been done. Twelve years of bad blood, essentially a civil war, tainted relationships that tore families apart. The one thing everyone could agree upon was that this could never happen again. They blamed the male queen for his part in it all, calling him unnatural, accusing him of using magic. When the old king died, he could no longer protect his omega. The town rose up against him, slaughtering him, posting his head on a pike between the two lands as a reminder of who they could blame and why. After that, it was signed into law that any midwife who assisted in a male birth would be stripped of their title and charged with assisting witchcraft, which, in those days, was a death sentence."

  "Why has no one seen fit to change that since then? How long has it been, two hundred years?"

  "Yes, around there I'd say. You tell me, your highness. Why haven't you seen fit to change that law?"

  "I didn't know it existed!"

  "Precisely. By now this law, this fear and hatred of male breeders is so embedded into our culture that anyone who hasn't been directly affected by it doesn't even notice that it's there. They react in shock and disgust when the subject comes up, and they feel that their reaction is natural, not understanding that it comes from this one event, passed down through the generations. The only reason male births are considered unholy and unnatural was because this one king decided to take two different queens into his bed."

  Alfred whistled and polished off his drink, pausing the conversation to refill both of their glasses.

  "Right, so I understand that this is a problem, one that I'm willing to address as soon as I sort out just how to overcome two hundred years of... whatever you called it, an embedded attitude or whatever. What I don't understand is how it applies to what happened with you and Brennan today. Or... I suppose it's yesterday, now."

  "Probably," Oscar agreed, stifling a yawn. "What it means is that any licensed midwife won't touch a male in labor if they value their careers. As an unlicensed, but trained midwife, I have spent the last year delivering babies for the men around here. Brennan needed a midwife like me and asked around; some people pointed him in my aunt's direction, and my aunt told him about me. Not only the midwifery, but everything. Including details about my son and my sex."

  "So, he knows," Alfred said, with a scowl. "That will be a problem."

  "Not necessarily," Oscar said.

  "No, you don't understand. He is certain that he can beat me in the ring. He claims... and it pains me to say this, especially to you... but he claims that he has been purposefully losing to me when we fight in order to maintain the status quo, and keep the trust of the populace. He believes the kingdom is uneasy with me, and has suggested that my prowess in the ring is a surefire way to maintain their trust. If he tells what he knows, the people are going to insist that he challenge me for the right to the throne. They won't stand for anything less."

  "That may be true," Oscar agreed, thoughtfully. "However, if you had an equally damaging bit of information on him, he would have no leverage."

  "Yes," Alfred said, with a heavy sigh. "Unfortunately, Brennan tends to keep his life in perfect order at all times. Publicly and privately impeccable, that's always been his motto. He fights with honor, speaks with honor... well, to most people, myself being the exception. Isn't that always the way with siblings? My point is, I don't have anything on him, and I may never have anything on him. Taking my betrothed for a ride through the kingdom is hardly a title-stripping offense, and I'm certain that my servants are wondering whether or not I've lost my mind. Of course, it wouldn't be the first time. I never was very good at conventional living, and I do believe I've pushed my staff to the brink of insanity more than once."

  "Yes, but you see, you do have something on him. The babies—"

  "Babies! God, that reminds me. I promised Esther he'd be home tonight. Poor girl needs a break; that pup of theirs is running her ragged. You should have seen the smudges under her eyes this afternoon. She was furious that he'd ridden off with you, without so much as a word. Made some obscure threats if he wasn't home for dinner, I believe. Walking over there, I was sure that she knew more than she'd told Burges over the phone, but once I was there, it was clear that she was just as upset about it as I was. Which is good for her; I was more than ready to tear that place apart looking for you. But she didn't know why he would take you off for a joy ride in the middle of the week any more than I did. I'm still a bit fuzzy on that, actually. The reasons for it. I understand you've been delivering all the male-born babies in the kingdom, and Brennan took you to deliver a baby today?"

  "Twins," Oscar said quickly, pouncing on the break in Alfred's rambling. "Twin boys, birthed to an eighteen-year-old omega male."

  "Who was it?"

  "Oren Wendell."

  "So you were at the farm today! That woman..."

  "I'm certain that woman was threatened, same as I was. She has about a million children. That's a lot of leverage."

  "Threatened? By Brennan? What's Brennan's interest in the Wendells?"

  "Not the Wendells. The omega specifically."

  "The teenager? Why on earth would Brennan be interested in a teenaged omega?"

  "Finally, he asks the right question!" Oscar said, throwing up his hands.

  "What?" Alfred asked, blinking.

  "Hold on, I need to savor this moment," Oscar said, closing his eyes and grinning.

  "Oscar," Alfred growled his name as a warning.

  "Okay, okay," Oscar said, holding up his hands. "Brennan was interested in the teenage omega breeder, but he was interested long before the boy gave birth. In fact, I would guess that he's been interested a little too long. The babies I delivered this afternoon? They are Brennan's offspring."

  Chapter 12

  Alfred stared in shock.

  "That certainly explains why he threatened your son," he said, shaking himself.

  "Yes, about that. How long do you intend on keeping him in your dungeon?"

  Alfred shook his head.

  "I was intending to release him today. I still could. This information will convince him to hold his tongue."

  "And my son?"

  Alfred blinked at Oscar as if he were seeing him for the first time.

  "Come again?"

  "My son!" Oscar snapped. "Brennan will have him kill
ed if he knows I told you, and you can't use that leverage unless he knows that you know about it!"

  "That... is a very good point."

  Alfred scowled at the table, deep in thought. It certainly was a conundrum. No matter which way he turned the issue, it became a stalemate. He couldn't allow Brennan to kill an infant, let alone one belonging to Oscar. At the same time, however, he couldn't very well release Brennan with his own damaging information, nor could he keep him locked up without a reason. A good, public reason. Alfred pushed his fingers through his hair, sticking it up on end.

  "There's only one solution," he said, finally. "We're going to have to go fetch your son."

  "What?" Oscar asked, startled.

  His heart raced and his mouth went dry. His son? Could he really see his son again?

  "But... my mother..."

  "Your mother has a price, everyone does. You know her. How much would it take to buy your son from her?"

  "I... I don't know. She'll take as much as she thinks she can get. An estate in her name? Rooms in the palace? A husband for my sister? These have always been her aspirations."

  "Does she watch television?"

  "Only when something obscenely extravagant is happening. She's obsessed with royals and all their petty dramas."

  "No offense taken," Alfred said, wryly. "So, she would have seen the proposal?"

  "That was televised?" Oscar gasped in horror.

  "Of course it was," Alfred said, impatiently. "And since it was, I'm rather surprised that Elliot and your mother aren't beating down my door already."

  "There's still time," Oscar pointed out. "I've only been here... well, just over a day now."

  "Is that all?" Alfred asked. "Feels like weeks."

  "Time works that way when you don't sleep," Oscar pointed out as he stifled a yawn.

  "Right," Alfred said, wincing. "You should rest."

  "You should too," Oscar told him. "You can't win this game if you can't think straight."

  Alfred gazed thoughtfully at Oscar for a moment, blinking heavy lids.

  "You may turn out to be a real asset to me, and my kingdom," he said. "Assuming we can smooth out your history before it blows up in our faces."

  "Let's keep a good thought," Oscar said, with half a grin. "Where is my room from here?"

  Alfred shook his head.

  "I don't want you out of my sight until I've formulated a plan. You'll sleep here tonight. What's left of tonight, anyway."

  "Ah."

  Oscar looked around the room. In addition to the massive bed, there was a full-sized couch, a smaller couch and a padded bench. The full-sized couch was the obvious choice. His worn, second-hand clothes stuck to his body uncomfortably after his exhausting day, and he wriggled slightly as he contemplated whether an extra thirty minutes of sleep was worth forgoing a shower.

  "Here, you'll sleep better in this," Alfred said, tossing a long nightshirt at him.

  "Thank you."

  Oscar ducked behind a room divider, as intricately painted as the one in his own quarters. He changed quickly, and sighed with relief as his skin breathed freely beneath the loose, flowing linen. He stepped out as Alfred, in identical dress, was turning down the bed.

  "Climb on in," Alfred told him, with a friendly grin. "I've always said this bed was too big for one person."

  "Oh, ah... I would be just as comfortable on the couch," Oscar said, nervously.

  "Nonsense," Alfred said in a tone, which said he would not be swayed. "You need a good, solid rest. The best place for that is the bed. Come on, I won't bite... tonight."

  Alfred flashed a wicked smile at Oscar, making butterflies burst in his belly. He felt his face heat up, and he hesitantly walked over to the bed. Alfred's playful cockiness was so different from the Duke's flowery words and intense gazes; it was somehow more comfortable and more erotic all at once. If it weren't for all these damn complications, Oscar could see himself thoroughly enjoying an invitation to Alfred's bed. He pushed the thought from his mind—no need to invite an awkward situation, after all—and climbed into the massive bed. It was softer and larger than Oscar's, and his body instantly relaxed as soon as it hit the sheets.

  "Nice bed, isn't it?" Alfred said with a smile.

  "God yes," Oscar sighed. "Feels like floating."

  "That pleases me," Alfred said, trailing a finger over Oscar's shoulder. "You should be comfortable here. After all, this will be your bed soon, and forever after."

  Oscar stiffened. Somehow, in the midst of everything, he'd forgotten that he would soon be required to act as broodmare and queen for his highness.

  "You seem uncomfortable," Alfred commented, sounding disappointed.

  "Do I?" Oscar asked, turning his head away.

  "Isn't this what you wanted?" Alfred asked, sliding closer to Oscar, running his hand over his waist. "Your fairytale prince?"

  Oscar flushed. It was a dream; a silly childish stupid dream. The reality was so much more... awkward. There had been no love at first sight, no feeling of being swept off of his feet; just an interminable dance followed by an endless day of fear. Fear for his child; fear that his secrets would be revealed. He hadn't had time to fall in love, and he wasn't at all certain that Alfred was the person he wanted to fall in love with. He didn't even know if he was capable of loving someone like Alfred; conceited, self-centered and out of touch as he was, he possessed a sort of carnal beauty, which was attractive at its surface. But underneath... Oscar had fallen for pretty things and shallow romance once before. He'd become jaded in the year and some since, and he knew now that it would take a man of substance to win his everlasting love and devotion.

  But maybe that all-encompassing, overwhelming, fairy tale love isn't the only kind that will work, he thought. If I simply decide that Alfred is mine, and I his, then our union will be bound by mutual obligation. Maybe even respect. He's attractive enough, isn't he? It would be no terrible loss to mate with him, even if it couldn't be called lovemaking. With duty and honor foremost in his mind, Oscar rolled under Alfred's arm to face him. To his relief, the prince had already fallen fast asleep.

  A TAP ON THE DOOR WOKE Alfred in mid-dream, putting him in a foul mood. Disoriented, he tumbled out of bed and onto the floor as Burges opened the door. Ever the diplomat, Burges busied himself with straightening the breakfast table as Alfred put himself to rights.

  "What is it, Burges?" Alfred snapped. "And why must you wake me at such an ungodly hour?"

  "It is after ten, your highness," Burges informed him.

  He cast a pointed glance at Oscar, who was curled into a cocoon of blankets and snoring softly on the bed. Alfred simply glared at him.

  "Apologies, your highness, but your scouts have called in reports, and you will want to see them."

  "Very well, bring me coffee."

  "Right away, sire."

  Burges wasn't exaggerating. He walked to the hallway and returned immediately with a loaded breakfast cart, complete with coffee for two.

  "Would you prefer to speak privately, sire?" Burges asked, with another glance at the bed.

  "No, no, this is fine. Not a word about his presence to anyone. He's supposed to be dead."

  Burges raised one eyebrow, but didn't ask any questions.

  "Right, so, what are the reports?"

  "Yes, sire. Caspian reports—"

  "Sit down, for God's sake Burges, you're making me nervous."

  "Yes, sire. Caspian reports—"

  "Which one is he?"

  "He is working in the royal kitchens at Garaidh, highness."

  "Right, right, of course. Continue."

  "Caspian reports that Duke Elliot has been spending his time training in the ring. Rumor has it, he's training to challenge an alpha. The cooks suspect he's lost his mind and is studying up to face off with King Axelcior of Garaidh, however, he has categorically and publicly denied these rumors."

  "He's training to face me?"

  "That would be my guess, sire."

 
; "Right, and what of the other one, the... um..." Alfred snapped his fingers, trying to remember the scout's name.

  "Rogers, sire."

  "Right, Rogers. What did he have to say?"

  "He reports that the sister and the mother are in the middle of a bitter feud. It seems they are taking turns packing their belongings and throwing the other woman's belongings out the window."

  "What are they arguing about?"

  "It's unclear at this time, sire. Their arguments have devolved into assertions of entitlement and name-calling."

  "What of the child?"

  "The child is currently being cared for by a wet nurse by the name of Helga. She spends most of her time with him outside the house, with the two other children she cares for. She enjoys gossip, and Rogers is currently in the process of befriending her in order to get more information."

  "At least no one's thrown him out a window," Alfred sighed.

  He rubbed his face tiredly. He calculated he'd logged just under six hours' sleep, which was one hour short of a full night for his usual needs.

  "There is one more thing, sire," Burges said, hesitantly. "Two, actually."

  "Yes?"

  "Princess Esther has been calling all morning looking for Prince Brennan. She arrived five minutes ago, and has declared that she will raise hell until her questions are satisfied."

  Alfred scrubbed his face hard with his hands.

  "And the second thing?" he groaned.

  "Word of your fiancée’s apparent demise is quickly spreading through the kingdom. His aunt and cousin have arrived."

  "Tell me you didn't put all three women in the drawing room, Burges."

  "No, sire, your sister-in-law is haranguing the cooks in the kitchen, and your fiancée’s family is in the drawing room."

  "Good man, Burges," Alfred sighed. "Go tell them I will be with them in a moment."

  "Very well, sire."

  "Oh, Burges, one last thing. Any reports from the border?"

  "Not as yet, sire. They are due to report this evening."

  "Thank you."

  Burges left with his customary bow, and Alfred pensively sipped his coffee. He needed to get a handle on this, and now. Pieces of his kingdom and household were flying out of his control and, unless some miracle happened within the next five minutes, he would have no choice but to bluff his way through it. He assumed that Esther would wreak more havoc in his house than the aunt and cousin would, so she would need to be dealt with first. Alfred made a face at the thought. He didn't enjoy telling her things she didn't want to hear; she could match Brennan's pettiness and casual cruelty and exceed it when she had a mind to. They really were perfect for one another. Knowing there was no avoiding her, he dressed quickly, left Oscar a note to stay put, and locked the door from the outside.