Winterstoke Wolves Collection : An MM Mpreg Shifter Romance Bundle

by Sasha Silsbury

  He never was a fan of polo necks.

  “I’m going for a walk,” he says as he leaves.

  “Want me to come with you?” Ben asks.

  “Nah, I just need a little thinking time.”

  Ben nods. “I’m sorry if I’m putting pressure on you. Make the choice that’s right for you.”

  “I will,” Aaron says. He heads out of the packhouse and takes the brick path round the back to the meadow. He’s been out on his own a few times but never strayed far.

  Being on his own outside has always felt a little too strange. He supposes he’ll get used to it one day but that day isn’t going to come anytime soon.

  The meadow is thick with flowers. Aaron can’t name any of them other than the white-headed dandelions that sway in the breeze.

  Aren’t they supposed to be weeds, Aaron thinks. He’s surprised Gregor hasn’t had them removed. Surprised but pleased. They’re pretty things and he likes the sense of freedom they give, whirling their spores out through the air.

  He walks slow, watching where he puts his feet. The air smells better here. It’s all pine and fir, fresh river water and mountain air.

  The scent of fir is a thousand times better than that of the adderthorn trees. Never going to scent those again, he thinks.

  He finds himself heading towards Gregor’s greenhouse, although he’s never gone in.

  It seems to be empty so he pushes down on the handle and goes inside.

  This is Gregor’s space, he thinks. Entering feels like something of an intrusion.

  It’s beautiful though. There are plants of every type, color and size. One side is completely filled with orchids. The other is filled with...actually he has no idea. They all look peculiar.

  There are fly catchers, and bulbous-leaved plants, and others where he’s not sure whether he’s looking at flowers or leaves.

  He remembers sitting on red sand back at the cave and asking Gregor what he grew.

  Anything I think is interesting, the alpha had said. These certainly are interesting, Aaron thinks.

  Something on the far wall catches his eye: two plants in large pots, one with yellow flowers and one with yellow flowers with a pink streak.

  “Tombstone tubers,” he murmurs under his breath.

  “Told you I knew my tubers,” Gregor’s voice says from behind him. “You’re not going to destroy them, are you?”

  “What? No!” Aaron says spinning round.

  The big alpha is standing in the doorway. He’s wearing the shirt that Aaron wore on the trip back from the Red Run.

  “Oh sorry. Bad joke,” Gregor says, closing the door behind him. “I thought you might have heard. Jax’s mate decimated the place once. It was a misunderstanding but... Actually, never mind. Is everything okay? I don’t usually see you out here.”

  “Yeah,” Aaron says, “I was just walking. Walking and thinking.”

  “Best way to do it,” Gregor says cheerfully. “Nothing like a good long walk to clear the head.”

  “Ben’s leaving,” Aaron blurts. “And he wants me to go with him.”

  Gregor stands completely still. A look of shock crosses his eyes, then he blinks and it’s gone. “Okay,” he says slowly. “Whatever you need to do is fine with me. I’ll support you in whatever you need.”

  “You’re fine with me leaving?” Aaron says. The thought hurts even more than he thought it would.

  “I don’t think it’s my choice. Your days of being owned are over. You can do whatever you want. I’m not going to stop you.”

  “Do you want to stop me?”

  Bright blue eyes meet his own. Aaron swallows. He could drown in the emotion in them.

  “I want you to have what you want. I don’t want to be one more asshole alpha putting pressure on you to do what he wants. I’m not going to take advantage of that. Not ever.”

  Aaron’s heart soars, then he grins. “What if I want you to take advantage of me?”

  Gregor’s eyes darken, suddenly hungry as they take in Aaron from head to foot. He takes a single step forward and then stops in his tracks. “Are you sure about that?” he says, and Aaron can hear the doubt in his voice.

  “Absolutely sure. One hundred percent,” Aaron replies, putting as much conviction into his voice as he can.

  “Then come here so I can kiss you,” Gregor orders, a deep grin on his face.

  Aaron returns it, feeling happiness flood his body as he obeys. “Why yes, sir.”

  EPILOGUE

  reconstruction and a lazy fall morning

  “I got your favorite for breakfast,” Gregor says softly so as not to wake the baby.

  She’s been up most of the night but is finally fast asleep in the crib beside the bed. Her chubby arms are thrown straight up over her head as she sleeps, fists clenched tight. He’s never been able to work out why babies always look so serious when they sleep.

  Aaron smiles sleepily and sits up in the bed. Gregor’s been waiting for him to wake up for hours so he can do this.

  Gregor hands him the round gray tuber he’s been hiding in the back of his sock drawer for a week.

  Aaron barks out a laugh. His eyes widen and dart over to where the baby is still sleeping.

  “Where’d you even get this?” he whispers. “You didn’t dig up your plant, did you?”

  “Nope. It’s new. I ordered it online so I could surprise you.”

  Aaron chuckles under his breath. “That you did. You know I’m not actually going to eat this, right?”

  “I’d be horrified if you did,” Gregor replies, leaning in and pressing a kiss against Aaron’s forehead. “That’s why I made you a proper breakfast too.”

  Aaron’s dark eyes flash with amusement. “I should have surgery more often. I like being spoiled like this.”

  Gregor sits down on the bed, feeling the mattress dip under his weight.

  “How’s your neck feeling?” he asks. There’s nothing to be seen under the sterile white bandage on Aaron’s neck.

  Aaron gently moves his neck from side to side. “Fine, I think. Can you scent anything?”

  Gregor dips his head to the bandage and flares his nostrils. It smells like cotton and antiseptic. The surgeon had done his best to repair the damage and connect the glands but had been very careful not to promise miracles. “Nothing yet, but they said it would take a few days before I could. If it works.”

  Aaron’s dark eyes turn serious. “And if it doesn’t?”

  Gregor shrugs. “Then it doesn’t. I love you and I want to claim you properly, but it won’t make me love you any less if that’s what you’re worrying about.”

  “I’m yours either way,” Aaron says.

  “I know. And I’m yours.”

  Gregor puts an arm around Aaron. The omega is soft and warm in his arms. He presses a kiss onto his hair.

  It’s past nine in the morning but the packhouse is still and quiet. Luke is no longer living there with his kids, although he and Cal pop in most days.

  Gray takes the twins out every morning to run wild in the woods. “Wolves don’t sleep late,” he said seriously when Gregor mentioned it, and Jax is at the clinic like he is most days.

  The Winterstoke brothers have settled into a routine that fits all of their families.

  Only Adam is missing. It still seems strange to not have the oldest brother around all the time, but he’s going to be back for the twins’ first birthday in a couple of weeks, and then for Cal and Luke’s youngest daughter’s birthday the week after that.

  It’s not the same but it’ll have to do.

  We’ll have to have more kids, Gregor thinks. The more they have, the more Adam will have to come back to visit.

  “When do you think we should have another?” Gregor asks suddenly. “Assuming you even want another one.”

  They’d talked about a thousand things throughout Aaron’s pregnancy but all of those thousand things were about the little girl now asleep in the crib beside the bed: whether she’d be a boy or a g
irl. An unexpectedly long list of names that they both liked. Whether they were going to try homebirth or go straight to the hospital. What brand of shea butter was best for Gregor to rub into Aaron’s belly to keep the skin soft.

  Gregor liked that last part best. He liked anything that meant he got to have his omega’s soft skin under his hands.

  They’d never spoken about having other children. It had felt like the one they were having was enough to focus on.

  “I do,” Aaron says hesitantly. “Do you?”

  A flush of pleasure passes through Gregor. “Yeah, I do. Actually, I always wanted a bunch of them,” he admits. “A nice big family. I mean if you only want two, that’s fine. It’s just what I’m thinking.”

  Aaron gives a small smile. “I’d like that. Let’s just start with one more for now. We can stop when we think we’ve had enough.”

  “Absolutely,” Gregor promises, although he’s thinking that ‘one more for now’ might end up being two, like Jax had.

  “I do have one complaint though,” Aaron says with a smile. “You did promise me breakfast in bed, and I know you keep your promises. It’d be a terrible thing to break one now.”

  “It would,” Gregor says softly. He kisses Aaron and then goes to keep his promise.

  This promise is just scrambled eggs but Aaron is right. A promise is a promise.

  ****

  Blue Sky Lies

  Winterstoke Wolves Book Five

  SASHA SILSBURY

  CONTENTS

  1. Prologue: red sand and red shoes

  2. Otto: beers and binders

  3. Dan: coffee pots and winter snow

  4. Otto: plastic baubles and a wall slam

  5. Dan: runaways and the urge to pee

  6. Otto: bugs and betrayal

  8. Dan: paperwork and lasagna

  9. Otto: whiskey and dry sandwiches

  10. Dan: river water and pale skin

  11. Otto: cider and coconut shampoo

  12. Dan: heat rash and a small town clinic

  13. Otto: a boring book and a failed murderer

  14. Dan: blushes and paperwork

  15. Otto: mistakes and chases in the woods

  16. Dan: the hood of the car and glove compartment tissues

  17. Otto: forced jollity and broken plates

  18. Dan: weighty secrets and tuna mayo

  19. Otto: arguments and ice cream

  20. Dan: unexpected buzzes and a rental car

  21. Otto: apple trees and an addition to the family

  22. Dan: traffic jams and a hot breakfast

  23. Otto: universal idiots and golden auras

  24. Dan: prints and plastic bags

  25. Otto: pre-packaged lies and a burger on the road

  Epilogue

  PROLOGUE

  DAN

  red sand and red shoes

  Dan is eighteen and sitting cross-legged on the red sand of his hometown when his heart breaks for the first time. The sunset behind him paints Oz’s hair in fire colors.

  Oz is oblivious to the way Dan’s breath has suddenly hitched and the way he’s fighting back tears.

  “No way am I getting my omega from the Red Run,” Oz is saying. He digs his hands into the sand and lifts them absent-mindedly as he talks, red grains as fine as dust falling through his fingers like a waterfall. “The run’s for rubes. Maybe I’ll meet someone at college.”

  “Maybe,” Dan whispers. He doesn’t intend to but it’s as if his voice has been stolen away.

  Oz’s gaze snaps to Dan’s face the moment he picks up the tone in Dan’s voice. Oz’s eyebrows furrow. He draws in a sharp breath and his eyes narrow as realization dawns.

  “Oh man,” Oz says, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I thought it was just a bit of fun. I thought that’s what you thought that too.”

  Three days later, Dan is on a bus out of town with his suitcase on his knees. He hasn’t stopped crying the whole time.

  The second time that Dan’s heart breaks, he’s twenty-two and standing in a windowless room in Fort Gosford as Michael Oxford gives a casual shrug and says, “Well, I wasn’t going to turn down a free blowjob, was I?”

  It wasn’t just one, Dan thinks. And it wasn’t always me giving it.

  But he can see the panic in Michael’s eyes even as they stare at the ceiling, at Ronmin, at the view out of the floor-to-ceiling windows: anywhere except at Dan.

  Ronmin’s mouth turns up in a smirk that makes Dan hate him even more, and he says, “And that’s all it was, was it? You willing to swear on that?”

  Michael nods so hard it looks like his head is about to fall off of his shoulders. “That’s it. It was nothing. I swear.”

  Ronmin’s green eyes flash. It’s just a split second but for that moment, Dan sees nothing but pure fury behind them, then they’re back to the same pleasant, too-friendly expression they always have.

  “And what about you, Mr Callister? You just go round offering free blowjobs to alphas?”

  Dan can almost feel the terror rolling off of Michael’s skin. He can certainly scent it, even as he knows Ronmin can too.

  “Something like that,” he says, even though it’s nothing of the sort. Michael didn’t turn down blowjobs. He also didn’t turn down long slow kisses or lazy Sundays in bed. A two-year secret relationship and it comes to this.

  “You know what I think?” Ronmin says, “I think you’re soft. I think that something went very wrong when God cooked up Daniel Callister. What do you say to that?”

  Dan opens his mouth to deny it, but it’s true. He is soft. There is something wrong with him and there’s no denying it. Besides, that flash of fury in Ronmin’s eyes is making something in his stomach curdle.

  “I think you’d be right,” Dan says as evenly as he can, even as pure terror streaks through every part of his body.

  This is it. Ronmin is going to kill him. He won’t want someone like Dan tainting his pack and giving them that kind of reputation.

  Instead, Ronmin chuckles and his eyes widen in amusement. “Good man. I do like honesty.”

  Just as fast as his expression turned to amusement, it flicks to rage again and he turns back to Michael. “And I really hate liars.”

  That’s when he pulls out a gun and shoots Michael in the chest.

  Later, Dan will wonder how it could have happened so fast. No one is that quick on the draw, but that’s how it felt in hindsight.

  One moment, Michael is standing there and the next he’s flat on his back on the floor, his blood seeping over Dan’s shoes.

  Ronmin cocks his head and gives Dan a thoughtful look, even as Dan’s whole body starts running cold with pure shock.

  “I might have a job for you,” he says and that’s when Dan makes a decision that sears directly into the veins and arteries of his heart.

  No more lovers. Ever. And especially no more alphas.

  The final time Dan’s heart breaks, he’s on his knees and looking up into the eyes of the man who is about to kill him.

  Otto McInnes holds the gun to Dan’s temple. It’s unexpectedly warm and almost sweaty against Dan’s skin.

  Otto’s eyes have the same expression that Michael’s did: the same panic and desperation, the same Judas denial that says that he’s going to try save his own skin.

  A sense of calm flows over him. He always knew that this was what was going to be the death of him. Now he knows how.

  He looks up into Otto’s eyes and gives him a forgiving smile because later Otto will blame himself.

  “It’s okay,” Dan whispers soft enough that only the two of them can hear. “I know you don’t have a choice. Do it.”

  Otto gives a small sharp nod, his mouth turned up at the corners as if he’s about to cry.

  Dan hears the safety of the gun snap off. He closes his eyes and waits.

  WINTER

  The runaway

  OTTO

  beers and binders

  “So, Aylewood,” Otto says as he
flips open the final binder. It’s stuffed so full that it doesn’t quite close properly and almost every page is handwritten in Hamish’s almost illegible scrawl. Otto’s heart sinks at the sight of it.

  Hamish leans over the pull-down table to get a better look, bringing the stink of old beer with him.

  “Been meaning to type that up,” he says in a way that Otto knows he never meant to at all.

  “Not a problem,” Otto replies. They’ve been sitting in Hamish’s quarters for almost six hours and it’s getting a little ripe. Like much of the Fort Gosford packhouse, the two-roomed apartment has no windows and consists of little more than a bedroom slash living room slash kitchen with a tiny toilet and shower stuck into a cubicle in the corner of the room.

  Hamish has been a member of the Fort Gosford pack for almost five decades and Otto still hasn’t worked out whether his tiny quarters are a measure of how little Hamish is valued after so many years’ loyalty or whether everyone gets the same cramped space.

  Otto’s is exactly the same. The only difference is that his mini apartment has fewer beer cans and has seen more soap.

  “Let’s start with the assets,” Otto says, pulling away two photographs from the paperclip at the top of the file.

  There’s no way he’s going to read through this whole thing before he has to leave tomorrow. He’s going to have to rely on Hamish to give him the highlights, assuming the old man can stay awake long enough to do it.

  The first is a headshot of red-haired woman on a plain white background. She’s staring right at the camera with a blank expression. It’s the kind of photo you take behind a curtained cubicle in a drugstore.

  Hamish blinks and stares at the photo with bleary eyes. “Right. That’s Elyse Callister. She’s okay. Dependable although she does send through everything. A cat shits in someone’s garden in Aylewood and she’ll send you an email.”

  Otto grimaces. “Nervy?”

  Hamish shakes his head. He takes a long swig from the can beside him before answering. “Nah, she’s solid. She thinks deciding what’s important is above her pay grade.” Hamish points at Otto with the can. “And she wouldn’t be wrong. Aylewood’s real tight knit. If the boss wants to get in there, he’s going to have to wait for the right opportunity. Elyse’ll make sure he doesn’t miss it.”