Abel's Omega(Gay Paranomal MM Mpreg Romance) (Mercy Hills Pack Book 2)

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Abel's Omega(Gay Paranomal MM Mpreg Romance) (Mercy Hills Pack Book 2) Page 8

by Ann-Katrin Byrde


  “But I want some!”

  “Eat something else first. You want to grow big and strong, don’t you?” I really didn’t want him to have a meltdown in front of the Mercy Hills shifters, but at the same time, he needed to have something healthy. My decision to go with a fun, junk-food day for the trip was coming back to bite me.

  The Alpha was quick to sum up the situation. “Fan, you come with me and help me bring something back for Dabi and Teca, okay?” He held out his hand to Fan, looking entirely like an Alpha.

  Bless you, Mercy Hills. “That sounds like a good idea,” I told Fan. “Let’s get your coat off.” Quickly, we stripped him out of his outdoor gear, then he took the Alpha’s hand with an expression of sheer amazement, and headed off into the kitchen.

  I leaned back on the couch, stroking the dark silky curls on Teca’s head. She was going to be a beauty when she was older. And darn cute now. I was so lucky with my babies.

  Movement in the corner of my eye made me look up. Fan walked carefully around the corner, a loaded plate in his hands, followed by the rest of the adults. I held my breath—not-quite-four-year-olds weren’t best known for their balance or coordination—but he made it to the small table in front of me without incident.

  “Supper, Dabi.” He put the plate down, only spilling a few kernels of corn, and grabbed my hand to pull me forward. “Eat your veggies.”

  A muffled snort of laughter came from the rest of the adults, which made Fan look around in confusion.

  “I will,” I promised him. “But you have to too. Be a good example.”

  The Alpha had two child-sized plates in his hands, and Jason carried one with slightly more on it. “I’m eating too,” the Alpha said, and set a plate in front of Fan, then looked over at Teca, fast asleep. “Do you want to wake her?”

  I shook my head. “Let her sleep. She can have a big breakfast tomorrow.”

  Jason nodded to the Alpha and took his plate back into the kitchen. The Alpha sat down with his child-sized portion, kitty-corner to Fan.

  Carefully, I moved Teca off my lap and wiggled to the edge of the couch. “This looks delicious.”

  “Jason’s a good cook,” Mac said, settling down in the chair in the corner of the room with his mug.

  “What choice did I have?” Jason laughed. He set the baby monitor on the floor next to the couch and plugged it in, and Mac pulled him down into his lap.

  Hmph. Well, I could learn to cook. Fuck. It wasn’t important right now, anyway.

  We ate our meals in silence, but it wasn’t the strained one of earlier. More that of companions who didn’t feel the need to fill the quiet with unnecessary words. I had been hungry, and the food—tender meat in some tangy sauce, mashed potatoes and corn—filled the cold, tired space inside me. I felt much better once I’d cleaned my plate, and was pleased to see Fan plowing through his meal with single-minded Alpha determination.

  I also noticed that the Alpha was only picking at his food. He’d likely already eaten that evening, but here he was, having a second meal to encourage my little alpha to eat his own veggies.

  He’d make a good father. I shut down that line of thought immediately. Mating another Alpha was more than I could handle right now, or ever, maybe. And the mating of an Alpha of his stature would be a long, convoluted process, designed more to further pack relations than to provide four needy pups with an alpha figure. Besides, the Alpha of Mercy Hills didn’t look like he’d be a disinterested mate, and that was really what I was looking for.

  I ate the last mouthful of my meal, and had to admit I felt so much better than I had when I started. Jason abandoned Mac and nipped the plate out from in front of me, then took Fan’s plate as well before his sleepy face could land in the last of his mashed potatoes. Just in time, too—he laid his head on the table and drifted off within seconds.

  The Alpha got up and followed Jason into the kitchen with his still mostly-full plate. I heard the murmur of voices, but I was too tired to borrow from my wolf and eavesdrop. Then the Alpha came out of the kitchen, followed by Jason. Some hidden signal brought Mac to his feet.

  “Let’s get the pups to bed,” the Alpha said. “Everyone’s exhausted.” He turned to me. “We’ll find you some place to stay tomorrow. For now, Jason and Mac will host you.” He stepped closer and I rose to my feet. “Get some sleep,” he told me. “We can talk some more tomorrow and make a plan.” His voiced softened, to not much more than a murmur. “It’s okay. You’re safe here now. You can rest.”

  Until he said those words, I hadn’t realized how much of my life was built around protecting myself, and protecting my pups, and how much energy I’d spent on it. A wave of dizziness washed over me again at the possibilities his words raised before me, but I thought I hid it well. Certainly, no one in the room reacted to it. “Thank you,” was all I could think to say.

  He smiled, and turned for the door, nodding at Mac as he left.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  After the Alpha left, we took my babies upstairs and I checked on Noah in the crib while Jason tucked Fan and Teca into a nest of blankets on the mattress on the floor. Beatrice was sound asleep still, and I paused to watch them for a moment, so quiet and certain of their safety. It made me even more determined to see them into a better place than what was waiting for them back in Jackson-Jellystone.

  Jason came over and smiled at them, then touched my shoulder and moved us both away. “You can sleep on the couch if you want. Abel’s going to bring back more blankets.”

  “I’ll stay here, if you don’t mind. I don’t want them to wake up alone in a new place.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, okay. I understand. But you’ll still want the blankets.”

  Again, the incredible generosity. It was so strange—I’d come here hoping for it, but it still surprised me with every thoughtful word and gesture. “Thank you.” It was on the tip of my tongue to refuse, out of nothing more than foolish pride, but I didn’t have the liberty to indulge that any more. I was a beggar, and I didn’t dare pick and choose my charity.

  “I’ll call you when Abel gets here?”

  “Please. I think… Do you mind… I’d like a few moments to…think.”

  Jason smiled kindly at me and left, closing the door behind him, and I was alone with my babies. I settled down on the mattress with the oldest three and curled my body around them. A bone deep weariness settled on me again, and I wondered, if I’d been living on adrenaline and hope the past four years, what would sustain me now. Gently, I stroked the dark curls on Fan’s head back into order, and thought about the conversation that evening.

  Abel. I still couldn’t bring myself to call him by that, not in public. It suited him, and I found myself wondering what his beard would feel like if he were to kiss me, though I was afraid to go further than that. I was a mess of conflicting emotions—Patrick hadn’t been far off calling me randy, though I enjoyed the idea of sex more than the actual activity, once I’d gotten to experience it in more than just my imagination. I’d never initiated it, but once my initial distaste was overcome, I’d almost always participated. Some bone deep hunger for affection and gentle touch lay at the root of it, I suspected. The omega hormones were doing their job, too, I was sure. It made me wonder what was wrong with me, or where I’d gone wrong my in expectations of what it should be like. Maybe I should stop reading the novels, but they’d been my only comfort for a long time and even thinking about giving them up gave me a hollow feeling just under my heart.

  Maybe I should just not have expectations for the bedroom. Other omegas seemed to be happy with their half-lives—I would make it so for myself as well. In the meantime…

  I sat up and reached for my bag. Tucked into one front pocket was a battered copy of my favorite novel, one of half a dozen I’d crammed into random corners of our bags while I packed. I probably didn’t even need the book anymore; I’d read it so many times I could have likely told myself the story word for word.

  But this time
, it was different. As I read, the dashing millionaire grew a beard, and in my mind, his eyes were brown, though on the page they were blue. And then the plot disappeared completely, and it was me and Abel, and we were somewhere where the world couldn’t find us.

  “Oh, don’t be silly,” I told myself, and closed the book with a snap.

  I decided I’d go wash my face before the Alpha came back and then I’d have a good night’s sleep, screw my head back on straight, and wake up ready to tackle whatever my new future would be.

  I used the toilet, then examined what was available around the sink. A square of handcut soap rested on a saucer to one side of the tap, a creamy tan speckled with bits of herb. I lifted it to my nose and sniffed—lavender. A common scent, but not unpleasant. I remembered helping to make the community’s soap in Jackson-Jellystone, all the saved fat from the meat we bought melted down and mixed with lye. In Buffalo Gap, we’d run water through ash to get the lye, but in Jackson-Jellystone, we’d bought in our lye, and the soap was much better for it. I turned on the water, just a trickle, enough to wet my hands and wet the soap. It foamed easily and I rubbed it over my face, near ecstasy in that most simple of actions. I wasn’t used to being dirty, even after Patrick had died and I’d been relegated to the porch. I rinsed the soap away and patted my face dry with a nearby towel.

  As I hung the towel back up to dry, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and stopped.

  I didn’t look too bad for four pups and five months of poverty. My hair needed to be cut—it hung in my eyes and below my chin. But my skin was still clear, and my eyes bright. I ran my hands over my body, testing for any loosening at my waist, or a too sharp point of bone, but found nothing amiss. Perhaps I was in less desperate circumstances than I thought. I still had things to bargain with—my looks, my body, my willingness.

  “Abel.” His name in my voice surprised me, rolling off my tongue like honey.

  Don’t be a fool. Yes, I needed a mate, but it would be stupid to set my hopes on someone so utterly out of my league. The most likely explanation for this silliness was that I was tired and scared and he looked like someone who would keep me safe if he took me for his. I was reading more into this situation than was actually there, is what was happening. With a sigh, I ran my hands through my hair in a vain attempt to bring order to my curls. Oh, never mind. It was just because he was kind. An Alpha is absolutely not what you need.

  But in the back of my mind, I wondered. Would he be like the others? He didn’t seem to be. Not that my experience was extensive, but I’d met other Alphas after Patrick and I had been mated. Abel seemed…different.

  Not that that meant anything. How long had I known him—an hour? Not much to base a life plan on. Best to stick with my original idea, though the satisfaction I’d once had in it seemed to have disappeared.

  I came out of the bathroom to hear voices downstairs and I went to meet them. Jason and the Alpha stood in the entry, with a pile of blankets, a pillow, some towels, and I’m not certain what all else in a clothes basket on the floor between them.

  “Hello.” The Alpha—Abel; In my head, I could think of him like that—grinned at me, obviously delighted in his offering. “I thought you might need a few other things too. And I’ve arranged the credit at the laundromat, and for extra food credit for Jason until we can get you into housing. Tomorrow, we can see about getting you work so you have your own credits to spend.”

  I stared at him. “My own credits?” I’d thought I’d been daydreaming, hoping for that. Did they really let omegas have credits here?

  He gave me an odd look and then understanding dawned. “I forgot. Well, not forgot. I guess I didn’t explain it that well. We do things a little differently here. Omegas can hold jobs, they can collect credit to spend around the enclave. It’s yours, even if your legal standing isn’t what that of another shifter would be. And it doesn’t hold outside the enclave, obviously. But my grandmother was an omega and my grandfather worked with the Alpha of the time to have things changed here.” He grinned suddenly, and his eyes took on a fond look. “She was quite the lady. There was nothing worse than disappointing Gramma, you’d feel like shit for days and grovel for forgiveness even after she’d forgiven you.” His gaze landed on me again. “I hope you’ll be happy here.” There was warmth in them that I thought went beyond the care an Alpha had for his pack.

  “I will.” I wanted to please him, part omega neediness and as payment for the kindness he’d already shown, part knowing that to stay here I needed his approval. That prickling alertness to his attention urged me to make myself agreeable, especially as I wasn’t certain how real the interest I’d picked up on was, or what it meant. Maybe he just hoped that I’d play the merry widow, which would be stupid of me, but Patrick hadn’t been a month cremated before the alphas had come sniffing around when their mates weren’t aware, so what did I know?

  That wasn’t what I was looking for, as much as my body was convinced there was something good to be had in a cock inside me. Frail flesh, I think was the term I’d heard once, that couldn’t stand to deny itself its small pleasures.

  At least I didn’t have to worry about heats for another year. I’d kept nursing Noah far past the time that Patrick had ever let me nurse my other babies, and the time for my season to start had come and gone. I was safe now, but I had no interest in giving up these quiet, intimate moments with my youngest anyway, and I planned to nurse him until I absolutely couldn’t anymore.

  Abel and I stood in the doorway, staring foolishly at each other until Jason coughed. “I’m going to bed. There’s tea in the cupboard if you two are still going to talk, and the last of the brownies in the fridge.” He touched my arm, a gentle squeeze of solidarity, and threw an unreadable look at Abel.

  Abel cleared his throat. “I should get going. You’ll be tired, and there’s time tomorrow to talk about anything else.” Abel stayed there for a moment, like he was planning to say something else, then shook his head. “I’ll drop by about mid-morning, if that’s okay? I’d give you a time, but I’m not sure what I can clear off my schedule yet.”

  “That’s fine,” I said in a soft voice. “Your time is important. I’m sure I’ll figure things out on my own.”

  “I’d rather help.” The words came out rushed and I had a hint, the tiniest hint, that a merry widow wasn’t what he wanted.

  My hands twitched with the urge to go to him, but history held me back. I didn’t know him, and I needed to. As much as I was tired, and wanted desperately for someone to take care of me and help me, as much as my body wanted what his seemed to promise, I didn’t dare surrender any freedom I had until I knew that giving an inch wouldn’t lose me all the road I’d traveled. So I nodded and wrapped my arms around myself to keep from reaching for the shelter he promised.

  Not until I know.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Abel puttered around his apartment after leaving Mac’s and Jason’s, seeing it now with different eyes. Before, it had been convenient—exactly how he’d had it designed. Sure, he’d had extra bedrooms built into it when he’d talked to the architect. Even then, he’d figured that some day he’d mate and have pups. And if he didn’t, whatever Alpha came after him might have or want a family. Now, though, he wondered if it was big enough for six active shifters. He could imagine Fan and Teca sprawled on the floor watching television, while Beatrice and Noah played in the corner and Bax did…what? He didn’t know Bax well enough to even imagine how the man would spend his time. If Bax was even interested in another mate. Or a boyfriend.

  Doubtful. But he’d need one, if he was to stay out of the hands of the shifter waiting for him back at Jackson-Jellystone.

  Abel had always been good at reading people, even before he’d become Alpha, and the years since had honed that talent to a fine edge. The rest of Bax’s story had been laid out for him like a book, at least in the broad strokes. In the words he chose, the pauses as he thought about how to say something. The things he didn�
�t say out loud, but that screamed from the lines of his body.

  Bax had no reason to trust Abel at all. And that would be a shame, because he was hitting Abel’s buttons pretty hard, even on this short an acquaintance.

  It disgusted him, the way other packs viewed omegas. He’d done his best to make Mercy Hills different, following in his grandfather’s footsteps. Not that they had many omegas to make a difference with—there was Jason, and Mac’s teenaged cousin Bram. Bram was the only omega in the pack who’d been born in Mercy Hills in forty years. Abel knew better than to let the injustice of it eat at him, but sometimes he got so used to how things were here in Mercy Hills that when he was hit with some ancient, ridiculous tradition in another pack, it set him back on his heels.

  He’d be willing to help Bax thwart Jackson-Jellystone’s plans for him, if only for the juvenile pleasure he took in showing up the older Alphas, the ones who’d said he was too young, who’d tried to take his pack from him in council. But there was more to it, too. Something about the omega, both strong and desperately in need of a champion, moved Abel in a way he’d never felt before. He’d never been one to believe in that fated mates crap that teenagers told each other during sleepovers and camp outs, but something in the exhausted form in front of him had felt so exactly right, he was starting to question himself.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about him.

  Abel gave up rearranging the things on his counter and went to the living room to slump onto his couch. His keyboard was there, calling to him to spend time with it like a neglected lover, and he pulled up the files for Alpha Hunt. After all, there was still Jason’s predicament to deal with. He firmly set Bax on the back burner, and turned his focus onto the lines and lines of computer commands scrolling across the wall in front of him.

  Morning sunshine found him still on the couch. He’d fallen asleep with the keyboard on his lap, the cursor smirking at him from its place in the middle of a line.

 

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