Winterstoke Wolves Collection : An MM Mpreg Shifter Romance Bundle

by Sasha Silsbury

  He can hear the alpha breathing now, panting hard as he catches up and Aaron imagines he can feel his breath too, hot and heavy against his fur as he draws closer.

  Any moment, the alpha is going to pounce, sending Aaron sprawling hard onto the hard sand of the scrubland.

  This is it, he thinks. This is how he ends.

  The alpha is right behind him now. He mentally cringes but nothing happens. Instead, the alpha draws up beside him, running alongside.

  He’s an enormous wolf: huge and golden-haired with the sky-blue eyes of the alpha back at the pen.

  You.

  Nope. He’s not stopping. Not for anyone. He’s going to keep running until he physically can’t run any further or the alpha takes him down.

  The alpha gives him a confused look as if he’s not quite sure what Aaron is playing at, then he swings forward, blocking Aaron’s path and forcing him into a stop.

  Aaron grinds to a halt, sand streaming through his paws.

  They stand under the yellow moon, panting and staring at each other.

  Aaron makes a feint, trying to fake the way he’s going to go, then heads the other way. He doesn’t wait to see if it works. He just swerves and keeps running, forcing his trembling legs.

  He hears a huff of surprise, and then, unexpectedly, the sound of air displacement as the alpha shifts.

  Pleasure flushes through him. The alpha has given up. Aaron has no idea why, but he won’t be able to outrun Aaron on human feet.

  “Aaron.” The sound of his name rends the cool night air.

  Shock courses through him. No one here knows his name. They gave him a number at registration.

  He stops in his tracks and turns around. Does he know him? He can’t.

  Gary hasn’t let him out of the house in years. He knows no one, other than the few people he’s chatted to online. He certainly doesn’t know any alphas.

  The alpha is pink in the face as if he’s been running a lot longer than he’s been chasing Aaron.

  “Aaron Schibold? It is you, right?” the alpha asks, his voice unexpectedly deep and gentle. It sends a gentle shockwave reverberating into Aaron’s chest. “I’m Gregor Winterstoke. Ben sent me.”

  Aaron sinks to the sand, his limbs turned to jelly as relief floods his system.

  “It’s okay,” Gregor says. “We’ve got a plan to get you out of here.”

  GREGOR

  bare skin and hellscapes

  Gregor bends over, hands on hips, and tries to catch his breath. He wasn’t expecting the kid to bolt from his hiding place like that, although he certainly can’t blame him.

  Gregor turns and squints back to the hill that they’d run from. The wiry wolf isn’t anywhere to be seen, and his scent is fading. They have a couple of minutes to catch their breath and take stock.

  He’s desperate for a drink and is glad he had water back at the viewing platform instead of the beer he was in the mood for.

  Cool blood trickles down the bare skin on his calf and ankle where the wiry wolf managed to get a couple of hard bites in.

  Gregor twists and surveys the damage. The bites are deep, although not enough to need stitches. In ideal circumstances, he’d wash them off under a hot shower right now, followed by some antiseptic cream, but these aren’t ideal circumstances.

  He’ll just have to hope that the wiry wolf brushed his teeth before he left and wasn’t as full of bacteria as he’d looked.

  Aaron is still wolf-shaped and watching him with worried eyes. The kid’s unsteady on his paws and Gregor’s not convinced he can walk ten yards, never mind the three miles or so to the road where Dan is waiting with the car.

  Whatever instinct had made him bolt like a cat out of hell seems to have faded, or maybe he’s just got nothing left.

  He gave Gregor one hell of a run, and Gregor feels an unexpected flush of pride.

  Well done, kid. He put up a good fight. He can be proud of himself.

  He takes a step towards Aaron, and the kid flinches back.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, kid. I promise,” he says, trying to put as much truth into the words as he can.

  The slim wolf watches him with cautious eyes.

  “We can rest for a few minutes but then we gotta keep moving.”

  Aaron still watches him. His body is still sunk onto the sand, as if he’s lost all energy.

  “You think you’ll be able to get moving in five?”

  The wolf nods slowly.

  “Are you hurt?”

  A shake of the head.

  “Are you hungry?”

  A nod.

  “Thirsty?”

  Another slight nod. The kid is barely looking at him.

  What did they say to you back there that you can’t even look at an alpha? He can imagine. Aaron is one of the most stunning he has ever seen: long languid eyelashes and cheekbones you could cut yourself on, with a magnetizing scent that’d urge any alpha to bite into the soft skin at the nape of his neck. He’d be in demand.

  He’ll continue to be in demand, Gregor realizes. Gregor needs to get him out of here, before one of those other jerks tries to take him away.

  Unexpected fury rises. Gregor clenches his fists. He’s not going to let that happen.

  Aaron startles and Gregor realizes he can scent his anger.

  Think before you act, Adam had written down in that damned instruction booklet. Now Gregor’s irritated at himself and the booklet. He’s always thought there’s not much more infuriating than someone else being right about your failings.

  Aaron is still staring at him with wide nervous eyes.

  “Not you, kid. This whole situation,” Gregor blurts out. “I hate this stuff.”

  For the first time, something other than terror or worry shows in Aaron’s eyes. He looks distinctly unimpressed.

  “And I’m sure you hate it more. Don’t shoot the rescuer, kid.”

  Gregor runs his hands through his hair. It’s hot, tangled and sweaty against his scalp. His beard and long hair are better suited to the cool mountain climate, not this desert hellscape.

  He looks around, trying to get his bearings. If they head due west, then go north, they should be able to skirt the edges of the run boundaries before getting to the rendezvous point. It shouldn’t add too much time to their journey, but it’ll keep them safer.

  He turns back to the wolf, but Aaron has shifted while he was distracted and he finds himself looking at a bare chest and slim, graceful legs instead.

  Dark finger-shaped bruises are beginning to form on his upper arms. Big brown eyes lined with thick lashes watch him cautiously.

  God, but the kid is pretty.

  “Ready to go, kid?”

  “I’m not a kid,” Aaron says firmly.

  “Okay?”

  “I’m a man,” Aaron says. “I’m twenty-one.” He’s not meeting Gregor’s eyes when he says it, but Gregor hides a smile anyway.

  Good, let the kid – man – assert his independence. He’ll have had too little of that.

  He puts amusement in his voice. “Got it. Well, twenty-one-year-old man, we need to shake our tails if we want to get out of this shithole by dawn. Paws down, let’s go.”

  Aaron gives him a small smile, twisting omega-soft lips into a smile that reaches his dark eyes. Gregor can’t help feeling a small flush of pleasure at the sight.

  He shifts, checking behind him to see that Aaron has done the same, then strains his nose up to the night sky.

  The wiry wolf’s scent has faded further. He’s disappeared in search for easier prey. There are other alphas out there but they’re not anywhere close by.

  There is another omega not far to the east somewhere, giving off scent wave after scent wave of fear. She’s going to be attracting every alpha within a mile.

  For a microsecond, Gregor considers trying to get her too.

  No. I’m not the omega pied piper. I can’t rescue all of them. It’s too risky and he might lose Aaron. His lips tighten. That is not an o
ption.

  He lets out a low yip, indicating to Aaron to follow, then begins trotting west.

  The earlier cloud has cleared, revealing a pale-yellow moon that paints the landscape in whites and greys. Aaron trots alongside him.

  By unspoken agreement, they keep silent. Paws land on patches of sand instead of rough desert bindgrass. They don’t yip or bark or growl. Gregor finds himself holding his breath.

  They move quickly but deliberately across the night sands, getting closer to the hulking form of Thorn Peak.

  Aaron keeps to the pace that Gregor sets, even though it has to be punishing for him.

  Not much longer. Then it’ll be the car, a drive, followed by a motel where he can get a stiff drink and a hot shower.

  They reach the foot of Thorn Peak just as the moon starts to dip in the sky.

  Gregor can still pick up the scents of the run, but they’re far in the distance. He starts to veer north.

  You see that peak rising into the distance there? That’s Thorn Peak, the north boundary. There’s a track just north of it, Dan had said, pointing at the spot on the satellite map. When you find it, take it and keep going. I’ll park the car at a safe distance so just keep going until you find me.

  They run along the flat alongside the peak and find the track shortly after. It’s not much more than two lines of track sunk into the earth from journey after journey. Weeds and bindgrass grow up between them, long enough to tickle the engine of any truck passing over.

  Hasn’t been used in a good long time, Gregor thinks. Hope Dan’s tires are up for it.

  Away from the sandy flats, the brush begins to grow higher and deeper as they follow the track. Sharp-thorned bushes brush along their fur as they run until they can only see a short distance ahead, and even less when the track bends.

  The track turns right.

  Gregor stops. There is no way forward. A large fence bars their way.

  Dan didn’t mention this. Moonlight glints off of the metal. It’s not a simple fence either: no cheap chain-link wonder. Its thick bars appear too solid to bend or break.

  He looks up. It’s high too: a good eight feet.

  “I wouldn’t climb it if I were you,” a voice says from the dark.

  Headlights turn on, blinding him. A whine sounds from behind him, and he feels sudden warmth as Aaron’s body huddles up to his. The scent of omega fear fills the air.

  “Fence is electric. Cost us a pretty penny, but it keeps the omegas in.”

  Gregor blinks, trying to adjust his eyes.

  He doesn’t recognize the man standing against the hood, but the blood wolves uniform is clear enough.

  The man steps forward, his lip curled with amusement as his gaze darts from Gregor to Aaron and back again. “You’re supposed to bite ‘em you know.”

  Beside him, Aaron shrinks closer.

  “If you don’t bite him, then someone will take him off you and do the biting for you.”

  Unbidden rage soars through Gregor’s veins. The hackles on his shoulders rise and he gives out a long low growl before he even knows what he’s doing.

  The man chuckles. “Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re going to follow the fence. Don’t bother. It goes all the way round. No point fencing just part of it, is there? And it’s all electric.”

  There’s a tone in the man’s voice that makes Gregor think he’s telling the truth. There’s no way out. They’re stuck in here.

  AARON

  dark shadows and a flat-topped boulder

  Aaron knew it couldn’t be that easy. He knew it, and he’d hoped anyway.

  It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. Gregor has a plan. He said so. He’ll have another way through the fence.

  Aaron’s first instinct when the headlights came on was to get as close to Gregor as possible. There’s something about the scent of the big wolf that settles his stomach and lulls the fear that’s been simmering for most of his life. Some instinct tells him that as long as he stays close, he’ll be safe.

  Aaron keeps his head and belly low, and his ears flat and hides behind Gregor. He rarely wolfed out at home. There wasn’t the space and he hadn’t the inclination, but the movements come instinctively.

  The blood wolf stands hands on hips as if waiting for an answer.

  He doesn’t get one even though Aaron can scent Gregor’s annoyance. Instead Gregor turns tail and heads back the way they came. Aaron follows him faithfully.

  Gregor will have another way out, he thinks.

  They’re about twenty minutes away from the blood wolf and the electric fence, when Gregor stops and shifts.

  Aaron copies him. He keeps his eyes lowered, trying not to stare at what he has to admit is an absolutely gorgeous and very naked alpha.

  “I’m going to take us up the peak,” Gregor says. “Not far. Just enough to find a safe space to stay for the night.”

  Aaron frowns. That doesn’t make sense. The longer they stay here, the easier it will be for the other alphas to track them down.

  It’s hard not to be distracted by Gregor’s voice though. It’s deep and rumbly. It makes Aaron’s stomach feel all wobbly.

  The thought is followed by a stab of panic deep in his belly.

  “My heat’s coming,” Aaron blurts out.

  Confusion crosses Gregor’s face followed by embarrassment. “Already?”

  “They gave me a shot,” Aaron explains.

  “Oh crap. Of course, they did. How long until...” Gregor breaks off, clearly unsure of how to put it delicately.

  Until I turn into a sex-obsessed omega and I try to jump you.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know what type of trigger they gave me. It could be a slow burn one or a fast one. Either way, it’s coming.”

  They both fall silent. Aaron doesn’t miss how the alpha’s nostrils flare.

  Gregor breaks the silence with a snort. “In that case, we’ll both need to get some rest. Come on.”

  Aaron follows him, confused. Are they going to go back to the track in the morning and hope the blood wolf is gone? Or does Gregor have another plan?

  He’s never been close to an alpha at the beginning of his heat, nor during it for that matter. It’s making his thoughts fog up and he’s struggling to think straight.

  Before when his heat was coming, he used to prepare a box of food and water and then he’d lock and bolt the door on his side, and Gary would do the same on the other. He’s never been around an alpha when it’s happened.

  Gregor leads the way up the peak, stopping at the first protected place they find: a large flat-topped boulder surrounded by spikey-leafed trees that overlooks the path they came. They’ll have to climb.

  “It’ll do for now,” Gregor says, surveying the boulder. “We’ll get moving again in the morning. Do you need me to help you up?”

  Aaron’s gaze flicks immediately to Gregor’s hands. He imagines them on his waist, holding him firmly as he’s hoisted him higher against the rock.

  “Yes,” Aaron replies without thinking, even though he’s not sure if he needs it. Say no. Say you’re not sure. Don’t take advantage.

  He says nothing, his eyes still on Gregor’s hands before he forces himself to turn and puts a single foot up against the stone. He reaches up to try get a handhold. The top of the boulder is a bit too far for him to pull himself up after all.

  He doesn’t say a thing, even as he sees Gregor approaching out of the corner of his eye.

  He waits for the feel of warm hands against his waist, but when the touch comes, it’s not where he expects.

  Firm hands grip his ass and boost him upwards. A flush of warmth floods Aaron’s body and he’s grateful for the near darkness so Gregor can’t see him blush.

  He reaches out and clambers clumsily onto the top of the rock, feeling exposed, but when he looks back to see if Gregor is looking, the alpha has his eyes averted like a gentleman.

  Gregor doesn’t climb up after him immediately. He’s doing something down below i
n the dark, making soft scratching noises in the sand and brush.

  “What are you doing?” Aaron whispers.

  “Just checking something,” Gregor calls softly, then “Aha!”. Whatever he’s up to, it’s not long before he’s clambering up the stone.

  There’s a shallow hollow in the middle, likely worn away by millennia of infrequent rainfall. It’s filled with sand and brown grass and is unexpectedly comfortable.

  The alpha scoots down beside him. He’s holding something clutched to his belly. He pulls them out as he sits, passing Aaron something that looks like a gray pitted rock. It’s surprisingly light weight.

  “And this?”

  “Tombstone tubers. They’re edible. They’ll taste like ass but they’re pretty nutritious.” Gregor grins. “They’ll stop us from starving to death before morning.”

  Aaron gives him a small smile, passing it back. “We can’t eat these. They’re poisonous. I saw a picture of them on a forum post.”

  “Nah, you saw a picture of tumulus tuberosum. These are sepulchrum tuberosum. You get both of them out here,” Gregor says. “Feel this?”

  He gently takes Aaron’s hand in his own and runs the fingertips over the lump. Gregor’s fingers are unexpectedly soft and warm. Aaron shivers.

  “It’s bobbly and if you rub it like so, the bobbles stay in place. The poisonous ones don’t do that. They rub off. Besides, they’re flowering. The flowers are yellow and the poisonous ones have a pink streak running through them.”

  “How on earth do you know that?”

  “I did my thesis on tubers. Sounds fun I know. Never thought it would actually come in useful.”

  “Thesis? You went to college?”

  “Yeah. Got a degree in botany.”

  “You’re a botanist,” Aaron says curiously. With everything happening so fast, it hadn’t even occurred to him to wonder what Gregor did when he wasn’t rescuing omegas from mating runs.

  “That’s what I studied. My day job’s a little less fancy,” Gregor says. He reaches behind him, looking through and discarding small rocks one after one until he finds what he’s looking for. “I’m a landscaper, but I know my stuff. I like growing things.”

  “Oh,” Aaron says. He’s imagining Gregor in a greenhouse now, his strong hands carefully transferring seedlings between pots. “What kinds of things do you grow?”