Aaron puts his hands on his hips and stares up at Thorn Peak, desperately trying to remember the details from a forum post that he last read two years ago.
He’d committed it to memory then. When he thought he was going on the Red Run, knowing about the bottle stash might have meant the difference between life and death.
They’ve both discarded the idea of getting out before then, but there is still hope. If they can just get that water, they can stay on the outskirts and keep out of the way of everyone else until this all ends.
On the outskirts. If you have enough water. If you have enough food. Without being mated. Don’t be stupid.
At least two omegas have died of thirst on the Red Run for the past five years. He wishes he didn’t know that. Maybe all the research was a bad idea after all. Now he just knows the many different ways he can die: each as nasty as the other.
His mind picks up and files away fact after fact as they walk. If only he hadn’t been distracted by the Aylewood run. If only he could have spent the last year researching the Red Run instead.
But then he was sure that he was going to do Aylewood and the information got filed in his brain under ‘No longer relevant’.
One day. Gary could have given him one day’s notice. A twenty-four-hour refresher course would have made all the difference.
If he recalls correctly, around four years ago an omega and alpha pair had managed to collect a small amount of plastic trash that they used to store water, and a year after that, another omega had found it and added to it. She’d then been mated, but she’d managed to hold out almost five days.
Her last forum post had detailed where she’d left the stash for anyone unfortunate enough to be stuck on the Red Run.
That was two runs ago. Either the bottles and plastic bags are still there, or someone has taken them and hidden them somewhere else.
Or the blood wolves have removed them.
If there’s nothing there, they’ll waste a good two hours without water under the desert sun. And if there is...
Then they might be able to hide out for the week, assuming they could make it there and back with the water.
It’s a lot of ‘ifs’.
Gregor doesn’t help either. The scent of the big alpha is turning his brain to fog. Every time Aaron tries to concentrate and remember, his mind keeps turning to his coming heat, and how it’s likely that Gregor is going to be the one to ‘help’ him through it.
He can’t quite help himself from stealing glances at Gregor’s dick which has been at least half-hard since... well, since Aaron met him to be precise.
It’s not polite of him to look, but it’s damned hard not to.
In under a week, he’s going to know that part of Gregor very well indeed.
Shut the hell up, he tells himself. Water, you damned fool! Think about the water. That’s the important thing.
“They’re in a small cave up a sharp incline,” he says. “I remember that. By the end of the run, most of the unmated alphas form packs. The incline and narrow approach made it impossible for the pair I mentioned to be outnumbered. They could see attackers coming. The alpha still had to fight off contenders but it was one at a time. Not sixteen to one.”
Gregor stands beside him, close enough that Aaron can scent the warmth of his skin, and he has to resist the urge to rise up on his toes and lick the side of the big alpha’s neck.
Water! Pay attention.
“It’s about a third of the way up the east side. We need to look for an overhang shaped like...”
“Shaped like what?”
“I don’t remember,” Aaron admits. “Something interesting, I guess.”
“Okay then. Let’s go find us some trash.”
Unspoken, they both shift into wolf form. It’s hotter covered in fur, but the sun is starting to beat down hard. A sunburn isn’t going to help with the lack of water.
They move quickly, keeping to the shade of the adderthorn trees where they can. The trees become more thicker and closer together as they approach the peak.
That has to mean there’s water, Aaron thinks. No matter what the forums say. The water must be coming from somewhere.
Gregor is apparently thinking the same because every now and then he veers off, following his alpha nose, to scratch at the roots of a tree or bush, but each time he returns within seconds, shaking his head.
Aaron’s wolf eyes aren’t as good as his human ones, so he follows his paws instead, taking the sharpest incline up the peak. They’ve given themselves two hours to find the stash of plastic. Any longer and they’re risking dehydration if they don’t make it to the river in time, pending alphas in their path or other catastrophes.
Twice, Aaron has to stop and veer away from his chosen path when he picks up the sharp stink of an adder ahead. Scorpions make scritch-scratch sounds under the rocks as the pass.
There’s little by way of prey: a handful of mice, some gophers left far below in the valley. Once, he thinks he picks up the scent of something bigger: a deer perhaps, but he’s never scented one in real life so he’s not sure.
That’ll be Gregor’s job, he decides.
The big alpha will have spent his life chasing down deer in the Aylewood mountains.
The closest Aaron ever got to that was getting off the chair by his desk to chase down snacks from the kitchen before Gary woke up.
It gets harder to find his footing as he climbs. Rocks jut out, high and sharp, with deep drops on either side. The adderthorn trees that crowded the lower slopes are now few and far between, and those that are left are straggly, sad things unable to reach their roots far enough for water.
Aaron stops and sniffs the air, scanning the horizon for anything that might look familiar from a long-ago description.
This was futile. We should have just gone straight to the river.
A soft nose bumps into his flank. Aaron quivers at the touch. Gregor’s been keeping a respectful distance, but he’s close now and shaking his head at Aaron.
Aaron shuts his eyes and breathes him in: the warmth of his body, the scent of summer and the promise of filthy things.
He feels another insistent nose bump, followed by “Dude!” as Gregor shifts.
Gregor uses his fingers to point.
“That rock looks like a coyote to me,” he says. “That the kind of thing you mean?”
Aaron blinks, washing away the rude thoughts he’s been having and forces himself to focus. His wolf eyes can just about make out the shape that Gregor is pointing at, so he forces himself to shift.
It looks more like a tortoise, he thinks, but it does look interesting.
“Maybe,” he says dubiously.
“Well, let’s take a look anyway. I haven’t seen anything else that even comes close to interesting. It’s all rocks and more rocks shaped like nothing but rock,” Gregor replies.
His pale skin is pink and flushed under the beard, and Aaron can’t help wonder if he regrets not having a shave before heading out to the desert.
What does he even look like with a haircut and a shave?
Aaron stares at him, trying to imagine it. Of course, that just leads to him wondering what Gregor looks like in all sorts of other situations.
“Move your ass, dude. We don’t have much time.”
Dude. He supposes it’s better than ‘kid’.
He forces himself to keep walking, staying human-shaped.
He can’t take the heat from his fur any longer, and if that is the right rock, then it won’t be much further until they reach shade.
He can hear Gregor’s footsteps behind him and is both grateful and resentful that the blond alpha is behind him and not in front. If he were in front of Aaron, he’d be able to watch his ass as he walked.
Is Gregor watching Aaron’s ass? Maybe he is. Maybe any moment now, he’s going to find it too much, push Aaron down right here on the sun warmed rock and...
It’s a damn rabbit. The rock is shaped like a rabbit. There are t
he ears, one slightly bigger than the other, then a lump for a body and a small cotton tail which is just another rock. It was meant to be a rabbit.
Aaron bursts into laughter and twists where he stands to tell Gregor who is most definitely staring at Aaron’s ass.
A wave of lust courses up his spine and sends a wave of slick to dampen his ass cheeks and thighs.
Gregor’s eyes darken, and he licks his lips.
Aaron takes a step towards him, and then stops where he stands.
Water. They don’t have time for this now.
“It’s the right rock. It’s meant to be a rabbit.”
Gregor bites his lip, then nods. “Better keep going.”
Aaron is hardly listening. He’s transfixed by the image of Gregor’s teeth on his bottom lip.
The alpha’s teeth nip at his neck, small sharp bites that don’t quite break the skin but send delicious shockwaves through his trembling body.
“I said ‘better keep going’.” Gregor’s watching him with concern, his brow furrowed slightly.
“Right. Sure,” Aaron mumbles. Gotta keep going. Stop thinking about sex. Oh my god. Sex. Sex with Gregor.
“Move!” It’s an order, barked out with full alpha authority.
Aaron moves.
Part of his mind is aware when the bright sunlight turns to full shade, and when Gregor says something to him.
A thousand filthy scenarios stream right into his cerebral cortex, while his legs move on autopilot, one foot then the other.
And then, even his feet don’t work. He’s capable of nothing other than falling to the sandy floor and garbling out one pleading word after another.
GREGOR
buried treasure and the mountain from hell
This was not the plan. The plan was to find Ben’s brother and go home.
It wasn’t this: standing in a cave in the mountain from hell while a desperate omega presents himself, begging and pleading, even as Gregor knows Aaron doesn’t really want it.
Aaron is only begging because of the pinprick Gregor can see even now on his thigh: a red, raised mark that says that none of this is real. It’s nothing other than forced chemicals coursing through Aaron’s body.
Chemicals or not, Aaron is beautiful: dark pleading eyes, smooth pale skin flushed with warmth. His mouth spills out word images far filthier than Gregor even knew could come out of an omega’s mouth.
Gregor’s dick is standing to attention, ram rod hard and he can hardly see straight, Aaron’s scent overriding almost everything else in its intensity.
He can hold out. He knows he can. He’s done it before, even if not for so long, and even if none of those other omegas looked like this.
He also knows holding out is a bad idea. This isn’t a temporary thing. They’ve got six days left, and Aaron may be in heat for most of them.
It’s not Gregor’s most romantic move. He’s never fucked an omega before where he hasn’t at least bought them a coffee first or engaged in a little online flirting.
Aaron needs to be able to think straight, Gregor tells himself. They need to find water. They’re not going to do that while he’s like this. It’s a survival thing. They both knew it was coming.
Fucking for survival. It sounds like an excuse. Just do it, idiot.
Aaron is on his hands and knees, looking back over his shoulder, his fingers digging into the sandy floor of the cave. He’s not even looking at Gregor.
He’s staring at Gregor’s dick as if riveted. His body rocks back and forth as if he’s already anticipating Gregor inside him. The scent of pure sex rolls off of him.
Gregor sinks to his knees behind Aaron.
“Thankyouthankyouthankyoupleeeaaaase. Oh god, please.” The words tumble out of Aaron’s pink mouth so fast, Gregor can hardly differentiate one from the other.
He reaches down and grips Aaron’s ass, using his thumbs to spread it wider, even as his thumbs are drenched in slippery omega slick.
He lines his dick up and plunges in hard without ceremony.
Wet heat tightens around him, even Aaron cries out.
He stills himself in a panic, worried that he’s hurt him, but then Aaron slams back on his dick, twisting his hips and wriggling on it like he’s trying to feel every inch.
Gregor can hear him panting. Mewling sounds of desperation spill from his lips.
Every regret, every sense of hesitation, every single thought that Gregor has that tells him he needs to be careful and hold back and be the responsible one here: every one of those thoughts disintegrates with the feel of Aaron shoving himself hard down on Gregor’s dick.
The world narrows to the feel of wet heat surrounding him. Aaron is fucking back harder and faster.
He loses it.
No. I’m in charge. Gregor digs his fingers into the soft skin of Aaron’s ass, keeping him in position.
The younger man gives a cry of protest, but the complaint lasts seconds before it turns to pure pleasure, as Gregor fucks into him, setting the pace the way he likes it.
Aaron’s breathing quickens, and Gregor has to grip him harder to keep him in place.
Then Aaron lets out a cry, clenching tight around Gregor’s dick as he comes hard, sending pulses of hot slick running down Gregor’s balls and thighs.
Pure pleasure spikes through Gregor’s muscles, sending waves of heat rising up through his spine and tingling down his legs, until it overwhelms him and he holds in place, buried balls deep into Aaron as he comes hard enough to see stars.
They both collapse in a trembling, shivering heap, Aaron’s breathing coming in deep shudders as he comes down from his orgasm, skin slick with sweat between them.
Gregor wants to just lie there and take him in his arms, but they don’t have that luxury. He’s also not sure if it would be welcomed. Not really.
Instead, he presses a kiss into the side of Aaron’s neck and whispers, “Are you okay?”
Aaron doesn’t answer. His eyes are screwed up tight and he breathes out of his mouth. He nods.
“Okay. I need to see if we’re in the right place,” Gregor murmurs against the slick skin of Aaron’s neck. “I’m not going far. You said they should be buried near the back?”
Aaron nods again, still partly face down in the red sand, clearly not trusting himself to speak.
Gregor gets to his feet, feeling his thigh muscles complain. All that running yesterday and climbing this morning, and this is when his body complains, he thinks.
He flares his nostrils trying to pick up the scent of plastic amidst the fog of pheromones and desire.
The cave isn’t deep. It’s hardly a cave at all: not much more than a deep recess cut into the rock of the peak accessed by a narrow hole at the front.
It smells of water and when Gregor reaches out to touch the stony walls, they feel cool and damp.
For a moment he wonders if they can just stay here but whatever coolness feeds the dampness of the cave is not enough to sustain them for the rest of the week.
A sense of damp is all there is, and there’s not even enough for him to lick if he were to get desperate enough.
Dry sand slips through his toes as he approaches the back of the cave.
There’s nothing to be seen: just that same endless red sand accompanied by a myriad of pebbles, but when he bends and sniffs, he picks up the distinct scent of plastic amongst the scents of sand, scorpions and sun.
He digs down with his fingers, turning his fingernails red and is rewarded almost instantly with smooth plastic, buried under a thin layer of sand.
He pulls out six empty bottles, complete with tops, and eight plastic bags. The bottles have been strung together with more plastic, knotted into a thin rope.
Bingo. It’s a damn treasure trove. Bless Aaron and his research.
He turns, “We got it! Step one of the plan is complete,” he says grinning.
Aaron isn’t looking at his trove. He’s staring right at Gregor again, his eyes dark and hungry.
G
od, already? What did they give you?
Never mind avoiding Corrigan after this, the next time he sees him, he’s going to give him a good hard smack in the mouth.
After he’s made sure that Aaron is safe, of course.
“Please,” Aaron says. His hands, knees and stomach are painted red with sand and dust. He looks like a sacrificial offering.
Gregor’s dick gives a half-hearted twitch, but that’s as far as it goes. He’s generally good at recovery, but it hasn’t even been three minutes.
His mind races. “I can’t take you to the river like that,” he says out loud, even as he knows that Aaron is barely listening. Every alpha in a mile will scent him out.
“Bite me,” Aaron says.
So, he is listening, even if he’s not completely compos mentis, Gregor thinks. “That’s the heat trigger talking,” he says as soothingly as he can.
“Please.”
It’s not the worst idea, Gregor thinks. Most of the alphas out there would respect an honest claiming.
Most of them.
Except it wouldn’t be an honest claiming. Not really. Aaron is out of his head. He has no idea what he’s really asking.
Gregor makes a decision.
He crawls over on his hands and knees, leaving the bottles where they lie.
He meets Aaron mid-way and cups his jaw for a kiss.
Kisses might not be necessary to the process, but they’re good, damn it and he might as well try make it as good for the guy as he can.
Aaron meets his mouth with enthusiasm. A bit too much enthusiasm. He’s all teeth and tongue and hunger.
Gregor pulls back, laughing despite himself.
My god, kid. Haven’t you kissed anyone before? Just as the thought hits, so does the realization.
Aaron hasn’t. He’s as good as said that he’s been kept confined at home for all of his adult life. He hasn’t done any of this before.
Gregor’s gaze is drawn involuntarily to Aaron’s ass, where Gregor’s fingerprints are still visible where they pressed into his soft skin.
Oh no. First time and that’s what he does.
Aaron is still leaning against him, trying to get his tongue in Gregor’s mouth.
Gregor pushes him away gently. He cups Aaron’s face, and tilts his chin so Aaron meets his eyes.
Winterstoke Wolves Collection : An MM Mpreg Shifter Romance Bundle Page 59