Winterstoke Wolves Collection : An MM Mpreg Shifter Romance Bundle

by Sasha Silsbury

  Rumors that the challenge was rigged have been circulating ever since and Ronmin appears to have done nothing to counter it. It’s as if he doesn’t care, or if he believes people believing it is beneficial to him.

  The man keeps control by a measure of blackmail and cold hard cash. He’s rumored to have a spy in every town, and there’s no end to his ambition.

  He is going to have to be dealt with one way or the other.

  Adam has thought about just killing him, but all that will do is create a power vacuum. The alpha who takes Ronmin’s place might be the more old-fashioned kind: keeping control with pure violence and rage, rather than sneakiness.

  Ronmin is the devil he knows. Even if Adam were to issue a challenge, it’d not worth the risk of someone worse taking his place.

  Adam tosses the phone back into the truck. His entire body is itching with the desire for Thomas to wake up so he can see him again.

  But while he waits, he needs to come up with a plan. They can’t keep on like this, just waiting for Ronmin to either make a mistake or for them to.

  None of the previous Adam Winterstokes would be sitting here, making calls and worrying about what to do.

  They’d act, and this Adam Winterstoke intends to too.

  Step one is to act on Ronmin and get rid of him for once and for all. Step two is Thomas.

  The sooner this is all over, the sooner he can ask Thomas on a date and do it properly this time.

  THOMAS

  we need to talk

  Thomas lies on his back in the makeshift bed on the floor, and stares at the stars through the hole in the roof. There’s even a sliver of bright yellow moon.

  In other circumstances, it might feel romantic or soothing: Thomas inside, where it’s warm and safe; Adam outside, patrolling and keeping watch over him and their little family.

  Instead, Thomas’ chest feels tight and his throat constricted, as if his past is rising up to suffocate him.

  Ivan is fast asleep beside him, his nose pressed up against Thomas’ shoulder.

  Ivan is getting so big now. In a few years, he’ll begin showing the signs of whether he’ll be an omega or alpha, or possibly even a beta, although the Warwicks don’t produce many of those. Nor the Winterstokes for that matter.

  Alpha, Thomas prays. It’ll give him an easier life.

  The floorboards in the cabin creak suddenly, and Thomas freezes. The sound is followed by the scraping of a door opening and footsteps moving into the kitchen.

  There’s the trickle of running water. Thomas’ shoulders relax: it’s no one other than Cam or Shannon getting a glass of water.

  He doesn’t want Ivan to have this life. Ivan needs to have the option to opt out. Maybe he’ll go into the Warwick business. Or maybe he’ll leave and go live a life somewhere free of all of this.

  He’ll never have that choice if he’s an omega. He’ll spend it subject to the whims of alphas just like Thomas has been.

  Like Jacob will be. His cousin is still asleep on the other side of the room. Jacob is still young. He’s not spent much time outside the farm or school. He hasn’t yet been exposed to the harder side of the Warwick family business, but sooner or later, he’s going to understand. Thomas’ chest tightens at the thought.

  Beside him, Ivan snuffles and turns over in his sleep. Thomas leans over and envelopes his son in a hug, burrowing his nose into the side of Ivan’s neck.

  He doesn’t want Ivan pregnant and scared at eighteen. He doesn’t want Ivan coming home one day with a raw and bloody neck.

  He doesn’t want Ivan to have to make a choice like Thomas did. Like Thomas still has to.

  He grits his teeth, shuts his eyes tight, and breathes out a long slow breath. He reaches up. The rough scar tissue on his neck feels familiar under his fingers.

  What did he do to you? Mom’s voice sounds in the back of his mind, as clearly as it was yesterday. The memory of the rage in her voice still makes his gut tighten, and shame flush his neck.

  “Nothing, Mom,” he’d said, even though the raw flesh was clearly not nothing.

  “That’s not nothing.” Mom ripped off the scarf he was using to hide the damage. A scarf. In August.

  Not that that he could have disguised the scent of freshly claimed omega. Not without powerful and very specific scent blockers. Of course, he didn’t know that then.

  She’d stormed right into the bathroom without knocking. She’d probably picked up his scent from the orchards. Not that he’d needed that particular bit of humiliation.

  He’d stood there, back against the blue-and-white tiled wall while Mom pulled the skin back with her fingers to get a better look.

  “Ow.”

  “Don’t be such a baby. We’ll need to get some antiseptic on that. And then I need to call Winterstoke. He’s raising that boy to be an even worse version of himself. We need to nip this in the bud right now.”

  “No!”

  “Yes,” Mom said firmly. “This is not acceptable. Not acceptable at all.” She pulled open the bathroom cabinet and began rifling through it. “Get in the shower and give that a good rinse. Then we are going to have a talk.”

  He took as long as he could in the shower, standing under the shower head until long after the water ran cold. Anything to avoid going out there again.

  She was waiting outside the bathroom when he got out as if she didn’t quite trust him to do as he was told.

  In hindsight, she was right. Thomas had intended to get dressed and head straight back to Aylewood and Adam.

  To make matters worse, the farmhouse was filled with scents that weren’t there before: Thomas’ brothers, cousins, aunts, uncles.

  Thomas’ stomach sank. She had called a family meeting. About him.

  “Mom, please. Adam and I are grown ups. We can make our own choices.”

  Mom rolled her eyes. “Only children say ‘grown ups’. You might be on the cusp of adulthood but you’re not there yet. And if we are going to get closer to the Winterstokes, it has to be a family decision. They’ve mostly left us alone due to those ridiculous agreements, but not one of the many Adam Winterstokes has ever been a real friend to this family.”

  “Adam’s not like his dad.”

  “No? Did he ask your permission before he did that?”

  Thomas was never a good liar. He racked his brain for something that was both the truth and also let Adam off the hook.

  “That’s what I thought,” Mom said sadly. “Go get dressed.”

  Thomas slunk off. He took his time getting dressed, and when he finally forced himself to make an appearance in the living room, dozens of eyes looked up, multiple gazes flicking to the wound on his neck.

  Lex was stood in one corner, his arms folded. He gave Thomas a sympathetic grimace.

  The discussion went on for hours. A handful of people were in Thomas and Adam’s corner, but not many. Thomas kept quiet for the most part.

  Later that night, he lay in bed, the wound on his neck throbbing and keeping him awake until the door opened a sliver and the bed dipped under the weight of Mom’s familiar scent.

  She put her hand against Thomas’ forehead, her fingers soft and cool against the summer heat.

  “I know you think I’m being so hard,” her voice whispered, “but you’re still my baby. You’ll always be my baby. I want what’s best for you. Not me. Not even the family. And especially not Adam.”

  “I do love him, Mom.”

  “I know, sweetheart, but that’s not always enough. Not in the real world. Boys turn into men, and all too often they turn into their fathers. Sometimes that’s a good thing and sometimes it’s not.” A soft sigh filled the night air. “I know this isn’t a question any boy wants from his mother, but did you use protection?”

  No. It had just happened. Thomas felt his face redden and was glad it was too dark for Mom to see.

  “See, that’s the decision you need to make now that you’re grown up enough. Are you that sure that your Adam won’t be like al
l the others? Most claimings result in pregnancy. That’s just biology. And even if you’re not pregnant now, you will be if you stay with him.”

  Adam isn’t anything like his father, Thomas thought even as a little voice at the back of his head said, and how many times did Adam say ‘Dad says’ today?

  “Wait a couple of weeks to make a decision. Until you know for sure. I’ll tell Adam you’re sick. Just promise me you’ll think about it.”

  “I promise.”

  Three weeks later, he knelt in that same blue-and-white tiled bathroom, his head over the toilet and he didn’t need to check the plastic stick lying beside him to confirm what his body already knew.

  He got to his feet slowly, and looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was lank and greasy, dark circles underpinned under his eyes.

  He knew the decision he had to make from the beginning, and the reason wasn’t the one Mom thought it was. It was worse.

  The problem wasn’t Adam. It never was. It was Thomas.

  Thomas could never keep a secret from Adam. He’d already come close to blurting out what he knew about the railroads. If they were properly mated, he’d definitely do it.

  Adam wouldn’t betray them. Thomas was sure of it. But Adam Winterstoke senior? Thomas didn’t know what he’d do. Rage for days at the least.

  Thomas couldn’t keep secrets from Adam, and Adam couldn’t keep them from his father.

  Thomas put his hand against the soft skin of his stomach. It was still smooth and flat, and it was weird to think that there was someone growing in there.

  The decision was obvious. He could never see Adam again. Just the thought sent waves of panic flooding into his muscles. Thomas gritted his teeth and pushed the thought away.

  He needed to make the right decision for the baby. Not for him, and not for Adam.

  Ten years later, Thomas lies in a rotten cabin in the middle of Aylewood forest with his son sleeping beside him. It feels like he’s coming to another crossroads: a crossroads with Adam right in the middle of it.

  Mom was right last time. He had been too young to understand the consequences.

  If he’d stayed in Aylewood, he’d have been be bored stiff. Maybe he’d have a whole pack of cubs already. The Warwicks had always been a fertile lot. He could be about to give birth to his tenth.

  Instead he has a life. He has a job he likes, and a calling that he loves. Once this is all over, he wants to get back to it.

  Mom was right about something else too. Sometimes love isn’t enough.

  He wants Adam, but he doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want to live in the same crappy mountain town that he grew up in now that he’s had the chance to fly.

  He’s also seen too many bruised and broken omegas come through the Warwick Taprooms to ever give up on the hundreds who will still be coming.

  Through the broken roof, the dark sky is lightening and the stars dimming with the coming day. Thomas gives up on sleep.

  He creeps out of the bed, careful not to disturb Ivan, then tiptoes over to the door, pulling it open slowly for minimal creak.

  The door to Shannon and Cam’s room is ajar and he can pick up their now-familiar scents among the cabin’s rotting floorboards and the woodlice.

  He walks on soft feet over to the front door. He can scent Adam on the other side, keeping watch as they sleep.

  He shoves the door open with his shoulder, wincing a little.

  On the porch, Adam gets to his paws. He sits back on his haunches, tail wagging against the wood.

  Thomas flinches. He breathes out slowly, steeling himself. “We need to talk.”

  ADAM

  gray storm clouds and a dawn chorus

  “Yes, that’s a good idea,” Adam says. He shifted so fast he’s a little woozy. “I should probably put some clothes on,” he adds.

  “Uh yes,” Thomas replies. He hesitates and looks behind him at the cabin. “We should probably talk somewhere else.”

  “The rock?”

  There’s another moment’s hesitation. “Sure.”

  Adam trots over to the truck to get his clothes. By the time he’s pulled his clothes from the cab, Thomas has already disappeared beyond the tree line. He dresses quickly, pulling socks onto feet wet with morning dew.

  Adam watches the forest as he dresses. Something is off with Thomas. He knows it.

  He knew it would be difficult for Thomas to be away from his family. The Warwicks have always been close. It’s one reason he’s always deferred to Barbara, despite not getting on with her that well. It’s never been worth upsetting Thomas by having a fight with his mother, and even when Thomas was long gone, there was always the possibility that he’d be back.

  Now he is, and this time Adam isn’t going to screw it up.

  The walk through the trees is different in the rising light, compared to the dark and Adam realizes he’s never been here first thing in the morning. It’s always been at night or early evening.

  The dawn chorus is phenomenal. The birds aren’t content to simply sit in the trees and sing either. They fly, swooping and calling through the trees above Adam’s head.

  Thomas is standing on the rock when he gets there, looking out over the ravine and watching the display. Gray storm clouds hover above, threatening rain, but the birds aren’t bothered.

  “Gorgeous, isn’t it?” Adam asks.

  “Yes.”

  Adam takes his place beside Thomas and reaches out to put his arm around him.

  Thomas pulls away. He doesn’t meet Adam’s eyes. “We need to talk,” he says again.

  “Okay,” Adam says. His heart is starting to beat faster. Thomas is pulling away. Adam is screwing it up again. It was last night. They went too fast. “Let’s go to Marino’s,” he says hurriedly.

  “What?” Thomas asks. He looks startled as if it was the last question that he was expecting.

  “You remember them? They’re still there. It’s small and romantic. Good food. We can start off slow. No jumping into anything before you’re ready. I promise.”

  Thomas puts his hands in his pockets. He’s still looking down at the ravine.

  “Please look at me,” Adam pleads.

  Thomas does, and Adam gets a glimpse of worry in his eyes before Thomas’s gaze flickers away just as fast.

  “There’s something I have to tell you,” Thomas says. His voice breaks on the last word, and Adam’s stomach flips at the sound.

  Adam waits, but whatever it is, Thomas isn’t ready. He stares out at the ravine, his mouth working silently as he starts a sentence, then abandons it.

  The rock underneath their feet is hard and unforgiving against Adam’s spine. He’s not going to be able to stand for long.

  “It’s fine. Whatever it is. It’s fine,” Adam says. “We can work it out between us.”

  Thomas turns around and this time, he meets Adam’s eyes. “Ivan is your son.”

  Adam stares at him. “He can’t be.”

  “He is. I am so sorry but he is.”

  “You would have told me.” Thomas would have told him. If Adam knows anything, he knows that.

  “I didn’t,” Thomas says. “I should have. I’ve wanted to. Every single day I’ve thought to myself that I need to pick up the phone and call you, and every day I haven’t. I’m sorry. Everything just snowballed. It got bigger and bigger. I made the wrong decision. You deserved to know.”

  “We only did it once,” Adam says stupidly.

  Thomas gives him the look that the comment deserves.

  Pain spikes up Adam’s leg again, radiating up to his spine. The world is starting to spin. A thousand and one thoughts race through his brain, and he can’t pin any of them down long enough to think about it.

  “Right. Of course. How long have you known? Oh hell. That’s a stupid question. Sorry. I don’t think my brain’s working.” He rubs at his leg. Stupid Mason Reed and his stupid wolf teeth. What did he need to screw up Adam’s leg for?

  He sits down heavily, then pi
nches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.

  It’s only once he’s sitting, that he realizes that he is sitting in the exact place that Ivan was conceived.

  “You should have told me,” he mumbles.

  He has a son. A real live son: maybe not a grown one, but the kid isn’t a baby either.

  “This is going to take a little adjustment on my part,” Adam says. It feels as if he’s still floundering in a fog of bewilderment. At least, he’s stopped asking stupid questions. Another thought strikes. “Does he know?”

  “No, not yet. I wanted to tell you first.”

  That makes sense, Adam thinks. Actually, no it doesn’t. “Were you going to tell me at all? I mean if you weren’t forced to come back?”

  “I was intending to.”

  Intending to. The same way he had been intending to tell him ever since Ivan was born it seems.

  Think, you fool. He can’t blame Thomas. He’s done stupid things too. He’s the one who messed everything up by biting Thomas without asking. No wonder Thomas didn’t trust him.

  He can still make it right.

  “Okay,” he says, putting his hands out. “What’s in the past can’t be changed. It’s the future that matters. We can work this out.”

  With those words, the solution is obvious. It’s perfect even.

  “Once all this is over, you and Ivan come and live with me. I love you. I know you love me. We can be a family.”

  Thomas’ eyebrows just about hit the sky, his eyes wide. He opens his mouth, already shaking his head.

  “No. Wait. Listen,” Adam says. “Just hear me out. I’m not saying it’ll be easy. I know it won’t be, but it’s the obvious decision.”

  Thomas is still shaking his head. “I can’t do that.”

  “Why on earth not? It makes sense. He’s our son. We love each other.”

  “Adam—”

  “Do you love me?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Adam feels as if he’s been punched in the chest. “That’s a ‘no’ then,” he says, voice shaking.

  He can’t sit any longer. He needs to be moving. His leg complains as he gets to his feet. Thomas shrinks back and for some reason, that angers him. Adam has a right to be angry. This isn’t fair. “Okay, well when are you going to tell him?”