by L. C. Davis
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
The Mountain Shifters:
His Reformed Omega
L.C. Davis
Copyright © 2017 L.C. Davis
Acknowledgments
Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
L.C. Davis acknowledges the trademark status of all brands and copyrighted works mentioned in this work of fiction.
Cover stock models credited to: Artofphoto | Raisa Kanareva | Elena Schweitzer | Dreamstime.com
Warnings: This book contains explicit male/male sexual content, graphic violence, and references to past trauma and abuse. Angst, Hurt/Comfort, HEA, no cheating, no cliffhanger. This can be read as a standalone, but reading the other books in the series will give insight into characters/settings.
L.C. Davis Books
The Kingdom of Night Series
Pendulum
Liminality
Equilibrium
Priest
The Mountain Shifters Series
His Unclaimed Omega
His Reluctant Omega
His Unexpected Omega
His Runaway Omega
His Second Chance Omega
Their Omega
His Reformed Omega
Standalone Works
Fan Mail
Collabs
Gray: Undercover Alphas Book 1
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter One
CONNOR
A sweeping ballad filled the dank prison hallway, plucked from the ivory keys of the black grand piano that took up the greater portion of the cell block that had been converted into an apartment for the lone prisoner within.
The Mountain Ridge Alpha took a deep breath before entering the security code in the cell block's outer door. The code changed twice a day and could never have more than four repeating numbers. Once he made it past the thick bullet-proof glass sheeting, he unlocked the heavy iron door with the key that he and only he possessed. There was another copy only to be used in the event of the most extreme emergency, locked away in a fireproof box in the verum Alpha's safe.
Mitchell knocked twice on the door before opening it, but the beautiful music didn't cease. Somber notes flowed gracefully from the fingertips of the omega perched on the bench in front of the finely tuned instrument. On the surface, Connor--formerly known as Cutter, the most feared name in the dark world of omega trafficking and general criminal enterprises--wasn't so different from any other omega. He was a bit taller than most, like his brother, and built a bit sturdier with sleek dark hair that had grown to reach his waist during the length of his incarceration. He kept it pulled back at his nape, and it was his way of keeping track of the passage of time since he had been scolded for the far more melodramatic method of carving lines into the wall. The piano had been a gift from the omega's brother-in-law, who also happened to be the prison warden and chief interrogator. Hassan had insisted that music was equally fit for taming savage beasts and the ruthless omega who had occupied Mitchell's prison for the last two years.
Mitchell let the door fall shut and looked around the room while he waited for his guards to lock it behind him. The apartment was far from the cluster of dark cells it had once been with four solid walls painted a soothing shade of blue, a comfortable bed and a table and chairs for entertaining the alpha, beta and omega who had never once lapsed in their faithful visits. Mel came to visit his brother every day without fail, even when he could only stay for a few minutes. The alpha Hassan came often, and even their mutual mate Toval, a beta who seemed far warier of the omega than his partners, would stop by from time to time. Even the Mountain Ridge Alpha himself had taken to paying his prisoner a visit when he had the chance. Hassan and Mitchell were the only alphas allowed access to the imprisoned omega under normal circumstances, since it had been revealed that he possessed a unique gift for bringing the stronger class of wolves under his control with the venom of his bite.
It had been two years since Connor had been captured and sentenced to life without parole by the Tribunal itself as punishment for his unspeakable crimes. In the interest of practicality, the Tribunal had managed to put some of those unspeakable crimes into written charges, murder and mayhem among them. Mel had fought fiercely on his brother's behalf, and Mitchell had as well, if only for the sake of the omega he had come to view as part of his family as well as his pack, but the Tribunal wouldn't be swayed. After all, if Connor had been an alpha, the penalty for his crimes would have been death without question. As it was, the Tribunal had wanted to imprison Connor in their own far less accommodating facilities, and the omega knew that even if he could escape Mountain Ridge's maximum security prison, stepping foot outside the territory would mean being at the Tribunal's mercy.
And so, he waited and played and entertained himself with the toys and occasional visitors who passed through the bars of his gilded cage. It was a far cushier life than any other criminal of his caliber would have received, but it was that very mercy that added insult to injury. He'd never met an alpha he wasn't capable of outwitting, of dominating, and yet here he was, being kept like a little bird.
Sure, he could escape. He had no doubt he could evade the Tribunal and disappear for a while until he had the chance to reinvent himself. They weren't exactly the crack team of investigators they liked to think they were, especially not now that the best
of them had retired and left the world of search and rescue behind to chase around some alpha's pup. Unfortunately for Connor, there was no allure in living without Mel now that they'd reconnected and he had no hope that the smitten omega would leave his mates behind. The worst part was, he was actually starting to like the mates his brother had chosen. In the beginning, he had only tolerated the alpha's visits because Hassan happened to be slightly less pathetic at chess than Mel was, but the man had grown on him. Like mold.
Connor sensed the Alpha moving behind him and his lip curled back distastefully, but he didn't stop playing. "Take your shoes off."
Mitchell sighed impatiently, striding into the room. "This is my prison, you know. You just live in it."
"Lucky me," Connor said in a singsong, his hands floating over the keys as he drew out the last fluttering notes.
"You're not bad," Mitchell said in a way that made it sound like he'd meant it as a compliment rather than the supreme insult the omega took it as. "What's the name of the song?"
"It's an original piece," said Connor, drawing the lid over the keys before he turned to face the Alpha. "I call it 'I-hate-my-pitiful-excuse-for-a-life-and-I-hope-you-die-in-a-fire-so-just-kill-me-now-and-end-my-suffering-you-simpering-excuse-for-an-alpha.' Too wordy?"
"Catchy," Mitchell said without missing a beat, sitting in the chair across from the couch. He glanced at the chess board on the coffee table and contemplated the pieces that were arranged in mid-game from Hassan's last visit before wiping them off the board.
"You idiot!" Connor seethed, stalking across the room. "That game has been going on for a week!"
"Seriously?" Mitchell frowned, reaching over to rearrange the pieces at their starting positions. "Never played a game that lasted longer than an hour. You must be bad at it."
Connor's fists clenched at his sides. The band on the alpha's left ring finger was a reminder of why he couldn't just sink his teeth into Mitchell's jugular. His powers only worked on unmated alphas, and the Mountain Ridge Alpha was hopelessly smitten with his mate. Angel was one of "those omegas" who seemed content to pump out pups and keep his mate's house all while wearing a smile on his face.
If Connor was being honest with himself, at least part of his disdain for the other omega revolved around the close bond he had formed with Mel during their joint captivity. Connor might have been Mel's brother by blood, but Angel was even closer and that jealousy bled over into his feelings towards Mitchell.
Connor dropped into the couch across from Mitchell, his arms folded as he watched the alpha set up his board. "That's not where the knight goes."
Mitchell hesitated. "Oh, right. It's been a few years."
"What do you want?"
"What makes you think I want anything?" Mitchell looked around the room. "Not that you have anything that isn't mine already."
Connor arched an eyebrow. "Ouch. Aren't you supposed to be reinforcing my sense of security and autonomy with reassurances to help me blossom into the delicate, sensitive omega lurking inside my black and damaged heart?"
Mitchell rolled his eyes. "Hassan can pander to you with psychobabble if that's what he wants. You're his mate's brother, but I know Mel and you well enough by now to know there's nothing delicate about you," he said with a snort, moving his pawn out. "Your move."
"I know it's my move, that's how chess works," the omega snapped, moving out his knight. "If you're not here to patronize me, what do you want?"
"I just got back from my biannual meeting with the Council to discuss your progress," he said dryly. "I'm not a fan of meetings, especially when they involve a bunch of soft-footed Council alphas peppering me with questions about my prisoner."
"The villagers are still scared of me? I'm touched."
Mitchell gave him a pointed look. "I'm not sure how they could forget the guy who turned their omegas into rabid killing machines, but you shouldn't be flattered. Recent events have reminded people you exist, and trust me, that's not a good thing."
"Gossip from the outside world? Do tell."
"Alphas are turning up dead with their throats ripped open and people are starting to panic. Half of them think you escaped and I'm covering it up out of embarrassment, and the other half think it's an omega who never got over your virus."
"What interesting theories," Connor mused, leaning back with his arm draped over the couch. "To think I still have fans after all these years."
"Yeah, well, your 'fans' are pressuring me to turn you over to the Tribunal," Mitchell said, moving another piece to capture one of Connor's pawns. "Something tells me you won't find their prison an improvement upon your current situation."
Connor's face fell. "They can't make you do anything. You're the Mountain Ridge Alpha."
Mitchell smirked. "And here I thought we had an unspoken agreement. I don't talk down to you, you don't blow smoke up my ass."
"Well, if you're into that sort of thing..."
The Alpha growled in agitation. "This isn't a game. If it wasn't for Mel, you'd be rotting in a five-by-five cell with enough gruel to keep you alive, and that's better than you deserve, omega or not."
"Ah, yes. Your charitable disposition towards me is born of your sense of shame over all the atrocities my brother and your mate suffered at the hands of the alphas under your command," he mused, capturing the Alpha's rook. "Guilt might be poison to the pious, but it certainly yields dividends for the wicked."
Mitchell's glacial eyes narrowed but he didn't lift his gaze off the board. "There are limits to my patience, Connor. Even you don't want to test them." He reached for a pawn and hesitated, pulling his hand back as if reconsidering his move. "As for your brother, I'm always going to feel responsible for what happened to him, but that's not why I tolerate you. I know this is hard for you to believe, but I care about Mel. He's family and that makes you family by extension. The thing about family is, you don't have to like them, but you do have to protect them."
"I need your protection like I need a hole in the head."
Mitchell snorted. "We both know that's the best that could happen if I stopped protecting you."
Conner scowled at the board. "Did you come here just to assert your dominance, or are you getting to a point?"
"After the official Council meeting, I had a private meeting with Barnabas," he said coolly.
Connor bristled at the verum Alpha's name. If there was one thing he hated more than the muscle headed alphas who populated the Mountain Ridge barracks, it was the country alphas who entertained delusions of civility and culture. "Sounds romantic."
"We discussed your situation and came to an arrangement that I think will settle any doubts the other packs have and might work out to your advantage, if you keep an open mind."
"You say that like I have a choice."
Mitchell gave him a look. "This prison is as secure as it gets, but I think we both know why you haven't even tried to escape. You know if you leave, you'll never see Mel again and I think the only thing you hate more than losing your freedom is the idea of losing him again."
Connor fell silent, watching impassively as the Alpha claimed another pawn. "The point, Mitchell? I have walls to stare at."
"You're wasted in here. The shit you did was disgusting, but the way you orchestrated it all was brilliant, I can admit that."
"I believe the word you're looking for is genius," Connor said, sweeping another pawn off the board in an even trade.
"Fine. My point is, there's a whole world out there, an unlimited number of things you could be doing with that genius, but instead, you're rotting away in the Four Seasons of jails."
"If it's between working for you and rotting, I hope the decay sets in quickly."
Mitchell snorted. "There are people out there worse than you, kid. People who don't just cause chaos because they're bored and lonely and have an axe to grind with the world, but because they view the chaos as a worthy end itself rather than just the means. Like it or not, some of those people are smarter, too." He swep
t his hand over the board, claiming the omega's rook. "Check."
Connor smiled, sliding a pawn in place to block the path of the Alpha's bishop. "That may well be true, but I fail to see what it has to do with anything. I know you're not offering my freedom, if only because you can't. And even if I could leave, you're right. I wouldn't leave without Mel and his once sharp mind has been thoroughly cooked and rendered useless by omega hormones and the fixation of his mate's mark."
"You're too smart to play that dumb," Mitchell growled. "You know Mel is happy. Happier than he ever would've been as your pawn."
"Stick to tanks and missiles, Mitchell. You're out of your depth when it comes to chess metaphors."
"The point is, Mel's living his life the way he chooses. You think you have any right to look down on him for choosing to be with the men he loves? You both lived through the same hell, but even you have to acknowledge the way he chose to deal with it panned out better."
"I'm getting bored. Send Toval next time, at least he's eye candy."
"Sorry I'm not your type, but you sure as hell ain't mine."
"Right, you prefer the doe-eyed submissive breeder type," he sneered.
"Nah. My mate's as strong and stubborn as they come. I just don't have a high tolerance for self-pity." He sighed, shifting forward in his chair. "I came to make you an offer, Connor, and it's not one you're going to like, so I don't want you to give me an answer now."
Connor listened and made it a point to look like he wasn't. The Alpha was taking his sweet time with his next move, but entertainment was entertainment.
"I'm in a position here. This prison wasn't built to house an omega, no matter how atypical you are, and people need to see that you're under control. The problem is, you'd have to actually be under control."
"I'm on a steady dose of horse tranquilizers and there's a collar surgically implanted in my jugular ready to inject me with neurotoxins if I set foot off the territory," Connor reminded him.
"I know that. If I didn't think I could contain you, you wouldn't be here, but convincing them of that is another matter. To them, you're not Connor the pain in the ass omega I've gotten to know over the last couple of years, you're still Cutter the psychopath they tell cautionary stories about to keep naughty pups from roaming too far from their parents. You made yourself a legend, and if you ever want to have a life, you have to make them see you're a person."
