His Reclaimed Omega (The Mountain Shifters Book 9)

by L. C. Davis

  “Apparently not everyone,” Kent teased, looking around the half-empty table.

  “You know how it is, Beth is eight months pregnant and Laura is still knee-deep in finals week.”

  “Her poor students,” Adrian teased. “They’ll be lucky if they survive.”

  “So, what’s the plan now?” asked Adam.

  Kent took a sip of lemonade before he answered. “Well, I figure the three weeks between now and drills is plenty of time to get started on that deck I’ve been meaning to put up over the last few summers.”

  Adam gave him a look. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

  “Oh, I know. I was just hoping I could get through one dinner without you hounding me about my love life,” he shot back.

  “I’m just saying, we’ve got an abundance of single omegas around.”

  Adrian elbowed the Alpha. “He just got in the door, Adam!”

  “He has a point,” Barnabas said, clearing his throat. “I’m not getting any younger and I’d like to meet all of my grandchildren.”

  Cameron rolled his eyes. “And people think omegas are the matchmakers of the species.”

  “Everyone’s having babies now,” Bryce said matter-of-factly. “Lucy and Winona just had a son, Benjamin and Yuri had another daughter, and I heard Tyr Amari is pregnant again.”

  Kent froze with his fork halfway to his mouth and looked up to find everyone at the table watching him, with the exception of Cobel, who was occupied with his phone.

  Bryce blinked innocently. “What? Did I say something?”

  “No,” Kent muttered. “You didn’t do anything, the rest of the family’s just reminding me why I eat at the diner when I’m home from tour.”

  “Sorry, sweetheart,” said Cameron. “It’s just that we know how hard it was for you when Tyr took a mate.”

  Kent sighed. “My high-school crush grew up and reunited with his destined mate. He moved on, I’ve moved on. They’re the new verum pair, and I’m not gonna fall apart when I hear about them.”

  “Have you moved on, though?” Adam challenged. “You’re almost thirty and you still haven’t taken a mate. What are we supposed to think?”

  “Guess I’m just a confirmed bachelor,” Kent said stiffly, holding his brother’s gaze. “Drop it, Adam.”

  “‘Drop it,’ he says,” Adam muttered. “You’re not the one who has to field all the questions.”

  “Tell you what, the next time someone asks you a question about my personal life, send them to me. I’ll be happy to ‘field’ it for them.”

  “Adam, come on, let’s not get into this again,” Barnabas groaned.

  “I’m going to get into it. Now that he’s back, he needs to be part of this pack again,” Adam said firmly. “That includes sharing the same responsibilities as everyone else.”

  “Responsibilities?” Kent echoed. “I’ve been out there killing Alliance wolves for ten years straight and you’re gonna talk to me about responsibility?”

  “Bryce, Cobel, why don’t you finish your dinner upstairs?” Cameron suggested. When the twins lingered, he urged, “Now.”

  Once the adults were alone at the table, Kent found himself locked in a staring contest with his brother. Some things really didn’t change. Adam set his jaw, taking on that pompous Alpha demeanor that had always gotten under Kent’s skin. “No one is doubting your sacrifice on the battlefield, Kent. I went on three tours myself, but there’s a time for war and a time for peace, the latter of which comes with its own set of responsibilities. We lost a lot of people in the war. A lot of young Alphas.”

  “Yeah, I know. I held a good share of them in my arms as they breathed their last,” Kent shot back, straining to keep his temper in check.

  Barnabas sighed heavily, his head resting in his hand. “I told you now is not the time, Adam.”

  “And when is the time?” Kent asked, his suspicion fully aroused as he looked to his father. “What is this, a joint lecture? If there’s something you want to say, just say it.”

  Barnabas met Kent’s gaze, his own full of guilt. “I don’t agree with the pigheaded way he’s doing it,” the older Alpha said pointedly, “but your brother has a point. You’re both too young to remember it, but I was alive when the Mountain Ridge Breeding Program was in effect. The Council had a different way of dealing with it, but low birth rates after long periods of war are a problem for all packs, and that nonsense didn’t come out of nowhere.”

  “Breeding program?” Kent echoed. “That shit would never fly in this day and age.”

  “There are packs in Europe that are already implementing them in early stages,” said Adam. “One in the northeast.”

  “Federation packs?” Kent frowned. “Bullshit.”

  “It’s true,” Cameron said. “Angel Teak has been on a lecture circuit giving talks about his experience to remind the packs that are considering it just how far that kind of thing can be taken. To remind them that it’s always omegas who get hurt when the good intentions of Alphas go too far.”

  Adam looked decidedly uncomfortable and Kent watched him, frowning. “Please tell me you’re joking… Don’t tell me you’re actually considering being a part of that bullshit.”

  “All the Council packs are considering it,” Kent snapped. “Our birth rate has decreased sixty percent over the last ten years, we’ve lost countless Alphas in the war, and with more Alphas being born than omegas, we’re set up to have a shortage of both in the next generation. More and more omegas are choosing to delay mating to have careers, some of them in the human world, and between all the lifestyle changes and the recent improvements in heat suppressant drugs…”

  Kent grimaced, pushing his plate away. “I didn’t come back to get wrapped up in Council politics, which look great on you, by the way.”

  Adam scowled. “You’re an Alpha. You don’t just get to opt out of the ‘politics,’ it comes with the status.”

  “And you?” Kent demanded, turning to his father. “You’re still the Council Alpha even if you handed over the reins of the pack to Adam. You seriously think this is a good idea?”

  “I don’t think there are any good ideas when it comes to war and its aftereffects,” Barnabas said tiredly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “But we do have to start looking for solutions before the problem gets out of hand.”

  “And you think a fucking breeding program is a solution?” Kent growled.

  Cameron winced.

  “Not a good one,” Barnabas said. “Certainly not the best one, but if the Council puts it to a vote, I’m not sure what’s going to happen. It would be different from the defunct Mountain Ridge program, at the very least.”

  “And what would your vote be?” Kent asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

  Barnabas didn’t reply immediately. “My vote would be no,” he said at length. “I understand why it’s being proposed. I’ve seen what happens to packs that die out, but I’ve also seen what happens to the omegas in breeding programs, and I could never vote for something like that in good conscience, no matter what the threat was to our population.”

  “But he could,” Kent accused, looking back at his brother. “Couldn’t you, Adam?”

  The other Alpha’s face was a mask of stone. “I could and I will do whatever it takes to ensure that this pack has a future. I understand why wolves who were alive to see the Mountain Ridge program feel the way they do, but there would be no similarities between a Council-run program and that archaic travesty.”

  “Yeah, not at first,” Kent growled. “That’s never how corruption starts.”

  “You have no right to judge. You don’t know what it’s like to lead a pack, to be responsible for its continuation,” said Adam.

  “You’re right, I just know what it’s like to lead a bunch of kids to war knowing not all of them are gonna come back,” Kent snapped. “Your job is so much more stressful.”

  “The war is over, Kent. It’s time to start thinking about the future. It’s
time you started thinking about your life. As members of this family, we all have a responsibility to do our part.”

  “And I bet it’s real awkward for you to show up at Council meetings, arguing that we go back to the Stone Age when omegas were used for breeding stock when two of your own siblings remain selfishly unmated,” Kent sneered, standing from the table. “I’m starting to be able to piece together the circumstances that led to this awkward ambush.”

  Adrian leaned in, whispering something urgently to their mate. Whatever it was, Adam paid it no mind. “I’d hoped you would have grown up a little in your time away, but I see you’re still the same,” the Alpha said with a weary sigh.

  “Likewise, brother,” Kent growled, standing from the table.

  “Adam, please,” Cameron cried. “It didn’t have to be this way. Kent, please don’t go.”

  “Sorry, dad. I don’t have much of an appetite anymore,” Kent muttered, stalking out of the house. It had never felt quite as good to let the door fall shut behind him as it did then. Adam could make of that what he would. If the Alpha’s idea of growing up was becoming like the very men Kent had fought to protect his home from, he was fine with staying the way he was.

  Chapter Three

  NATHAN

  Nathan had fallen asleep after doing his best to clean up the chaos of his room, and in that time, his parents had returned home. Duke and Connor were both watching their son with worried eyes. Nathan sat up slowly, his head still throbbing from crying himself to sleep. “What time is it?” he asked, reaching for his glasses on the bedside table.

  “It’s seven,” said Duke, his face blank in the way it always was when he was assessing a situation. The Alpha had been on countless life-and-death missions, but his teenaged son seemed to test the limits of his ability in crisis management.

  “Seven at night?”

  “Seven in the morning,” Connor corrected. “You’ve been asleep for sixteen hours, sweetheart. Are you feeling alright?”

  The words from that letter were still twirling around in Nathan’s subconscious, becoming a jumbled mess that seemed intent on tormenting him. “I’m fine.” Nathan’s head spun as he sat up, but he knew better than to let on that anything was wrong around his parents. They tried not to hover, but it was the one thing neither of them was any good at avoiding.

  Duke and Connor exchanged a worried glance. “You know,” said Connor, “if you’re not feeling well, we could both play truant today and go into town.”

  “It’s hooky, dad,” Nathan said, managing a small smile. “Toval told you about the letter, didn’t he?”

  “He was just worried about you,” Connor said, reaching to smooth out Nathan’s cowlick. Ever since Nathan had cut his hair short in a failed attempt to distance himself from his father’s image, his hair had been a lost cause. “We all know how much that university means to you, as short-sighted and imbecilic as they are.”

  “I can make a few calls,” Duke offered. “I’m sure it was a mistake.”

  Nathan sighed and stood from his bed. “Neuroscientists aren’t known for their clerical oversights and the whole point of getting into Chase Wesson was to accomplish something that wasn’t just handed to me because I’m your kid.”

  Neither Duke nor Connor seemed to know how to respond to that.

  “Is there anything we can do?” Connor asked hopefully. Desperately.

  At times like this, Nathan felt guilty for being the only child the couple had. He knew they’d hoped for a larger family, like the one Duke came from, and it seemed like a shame that the one child they had fell so far short of their expectations. They’d never said anything to imply as much. Quite the opposite, in fact. They both doted in their own way, but the amount of time, effort and money Nathan’s parents had invested in making sure he had every possible advantage and every chance to succeed in life made the failure weigh even more heavily on his shoulders.

  “No, thanks. I appreciate it, but there’s really nothing anyone can do,” Nathan assured them. “I’m the one who screwed up.”

  “That’s not true,” Connor said, frowning. “Your application was perfect. Your thesis, your grades, everything was perfect. I don’t know why they rejected you, but I don’t want you thinking it’s because you weren’t good enough.”

  “That’s kind of what a rejection is, dad. If they thought I was good enough for their program, they would have let me in.”

  “Or they had too many applicants who were good enough and had to choose based on research interest. Hell, it could have even been your age,” said Duke. “It could have been a lot of things, but just because you didn’t get in for next year doesn’t mean you won’t get in at all. It just means you’ve got another year to figure it out, and who knows? Maybe you’ll decide Chase Wesson isn’t good enough for you.”

  “I doubt that,” Nathan mumbled. “But I get what you’re trying to say.”

  “What I’m saying is that you’re eighteen years old and as much as this moment sucks, you’ve got countless others to bury it under,” Duke said, his tone softening as he tilted his son’s chin up. “You’re a Miller. You remember what that means, don’t you?”

  Nathan sighed. “Something corny about never giving up, blah blah, ‘give ‘em hell.’”

  Duke grinned. “That’s the gist of it.”

  “I could always dig up dirt on the admissions team.”

  Duke and Nathan both stared at Connor. Sometimes even Nathan had a hard time telling whether his dad was joking or not.

  Connor rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding. Mostly,” he added under his breath.

  “As sweet and...felonious as that offer is, I’ll be okay,” Nathan promised. “I mean, it does suck, but I’ll shake it off eventually. Right now, I just want to go to class and try not to think too much about it.”

  “Are you sure? You’ve never missed a day. We could both stay home,” Duke offered.

  “It’s wouldn’t be very good for pack morale if the Unit Alpha ditched work to hang out with his kid,” Nathan teased. “Besides, I’ve got an experiment running in the bio lab and I need to take measurements.”

  “If you’re sure,” Connor said warily.

  “I’m sure.” Nathan gently guided his parents out of his room, leaning on the doorframe. “Go on, go to work. I’ll see you tonight at dinner.”

  “Sure, we’ll all go out,” Duke offered. “Your pick, kiddo.”

  “Don’t say that, you know I’m gonna pick sushi.”

  “Sushi it is,” Duke said brightly, pulling his son in for a crushing hug. “You know we’re proud of you, right?”

  “I know,” Nathan mumbled, struggling to breathe. “But right now, you’re in danger of collapsing my lungs.”

  As soon as Duke pulled away, Connor took his place, taking Nathan’s face in his hands to smush his cheeks together. “We love you so much, baby boy. I’ve done so many things I regret, but you’re the one decision I’ve never questioned.”

  “What about me?” Duke asked, feigning offense.

  “Eh,” Connor teased, wobbling his hand in the air. “There’ve been a few moments over the years.”

  Duke scooped his mate into his arms and Connor yelped, struggling halfheartedly as the Alpha carried him toward the stairs. “Shoulda left you in prison for a few more years.”

  Connor leaned over his mate’s shoulder, whispering, “Blackmail is still an option, sweetie.”

  Nathan rolled his eyes and shut his bedroom door. Sometimes his parents made him question his resistance to the idea of ever taking a mate, but the Alpha-omega underpinnings of their relationship aside, he knew he was more likely to forge the kind of friendship they had developed over the years with a human rather than any of the Alphas that had shown interest in him. No matter how far from the pack he traveled, as long as he was among shifters, he would always be known as Duke and Connor’s son. As an omega. As much as he loved his parents, he’d always longed to break free of that role and forge his own identity outside o
f it. That rejection letter had been Nathan’s first glimpse of the possibility that, aside from the very identity that had always overshadowed him, there just wasn’t anything about him that was interesting or worthwhile.

  As Nathan made his way through his morning classes, he realized that just because his world had come to an abrupt end didn’t mean anything else had changed. Due dates remained the same, his boring physics professor remained long-winded, and the cafeteria line was as slow as ever.

  “Nate the Great!” Tanner’s voice cut through the background chatter of the crowd, and before Nathan could even turn to look at him, the beta had his arm slung over the omega’s shoulder. “Thanks for saving my place in line. Good guy, this one. Single, too,” he said, grinning at the Alphas who were giving him the side eye for cutting in line.

  Nathan gave his friend a light shove. “Would you knock it off?”

  “Still bummed out about that letter?”

  “Does everyone know?” Nathan asked, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder.

  “Hey, you know how bad my family is at keeping secrets. Except for the big ones,” he mumbled. “They’re pretty good at those. Hey, lunch is on me, okay?”

  “Lunch is free, dipshit,” Nathan said, grinning in spite of himself. Tanner always made him smile, no matter how bad his mood happened to be.

  “Yeah, but the chick who doles out the desserts is totally in love with me,” Tanner said in that nonchalant tone of his as he led Nathan into the crowded cafeteria. To be fair, she probably was. Tanner had inherited Toval’s boyish good looks and charm and Mel’s determination, and there was no shortage of Alphas, betas and omegas who were enamored with him. Nathan had never had time for friends, nor the natural disposition to win an abundance of them, but for reasons beyond his ability to comprehend, Tanner chose to spend time with him.

  Once they had their trays, Nathan found that his appetite was as low as his spirits. He sipped his iced coffee and hoped the sugar rush would be enough to get him through the day since the cafeteria pizza was even less appetizing than usual. At least he knew his food would never go to waste around Tanner.