Wild Ride: An M/M Shifter Mpreg Romance Bundle

by Preston Walker

  He nodded, tension in his throat as he guided her inside his home and to the rear of the building. Agatha entered his bedroom ahead of him, her gaze instantly going very tense and critical. “I see you tried to stop his bleeding. Did it work?”

  “I don’t know,” Tristan said quietly.

  “Very well. If you’re going to stay in here, please watch for my bag. Otherwise, stay out of my way.”

  Tense and shaking, Tristan stepped away to watch the door, and he accepted the medical supply bag when the young wolf brought it to him. The handle was in her mouth, lips drawn back from her fangs.

  “Thank you,” he said softly. “This is really appreciated, and you’ve worked very hard. Please, get some rest in bed.”

  The wolf nodded, and then he was alone in the house with the doctor and the omega. Turning back to watch, he set the bag down by the bed and then placed himself at a safe distance away where he wouldn’t cause any trouble.

  With quick, precise movements, the doctor opened up her bag and pulled out a pair of heavy scissors. She offered no apology or preamble for what she was about to do, and Tristan expected none. Several snips later, she tossed aside the first layer of destroyed bedsheets and then moved on to the next, throwing the ruined and bloodied scraps in a heap on the floor. They piled up rapidly, sopping wet and staining the floorboards.

  Eventually, the young omega lay with his injuries bared to the world. Tristan winced at the severity of them, especially when he saw that they were still pissing blood.

  “I believe I recognize these marks,” the doctor said, shuffling around in her bag. She fetched out several contraptions, which Tristan focused on for a moment to identify. One appeared to be a hot glue gun, while the other looked to be a stapler, and the last resembled ordinary needle and thread. What these mismatched items could possibly do to save the life of the other shapeshifter, he had no idea.

  What was important was that Agatha recognized the marks just like he did, which meant he wasn’t making a mountain out of a mole hill. “Would it bother you if we spoke while you work?”

  Agatha let out a short, abrupt laugh. She didn’t answer for a moment, running her hands over the omega’s side to grab at the torn flaps of flesh from his wounds. Pressing the edges together as best she could, she grabbed the stapler apparatus and lined it up over the bloodied lines of the injury. “Well,” she said, “I would say no, but I have a feeling that this is going to be one hell of a tale. Besides, what kind of a healer would I be if I couldn’t do my job while some alpha blathered at me in the middle of a crisis?”

  “You could have just said yes or no,” Tristan snapped irritably. In the next second, he jumped as a sharp sound cracked through the room. As it turned out, the stapler-looking mechanism was actually a stapler. A thin line of black now held shut a small section of the omega’s wound. As he watched, Agatha moved the stapler slightly down the length of the terrible wound and applied yet another, and then another after that. He stayed silent the whole time, watching the amazing speed and practiced ease with which she did her job. Her hand never even shook at all.

  “Now, Tristan,” she said. “I did just say you could talk while I worked, didn’t I? Don’t be irritable with me, young alpha. Just because you are the leader of the pack doesn’t mean I’m obligated to obey you. Some things are worth more than obligatory leadership, and one is respect.”

  His shoulders slumped with the scolding, but he just scowled to let it be known that he wasn’t happy about this at all. “Sorry,” he muttered, even if he wasn’t. “The point I was...trying...to make... Oh, forget it. I was hoping that you recognized the marks. I did, too.”

  “Of course you would,” Agatha said calmly, now threading some sort of white material through a rather large and thick needle. “I don’t know how you could ever forget the sight of them. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

  Tristan watched as the doctor started to stitch up the wolf’s wound, adding a smaller and tighter layer of binding between the staples. “I was out hunting after my argument with someone earlier, and I heard a commotion. I went to see what was happening, and I found this guy right here being mauled.”

  “Mauled by?”

  “That’s just it,” Tristan growled. “I don’t know. I didn’t recognize the smell. It was definitely a shifter and something big, but it was also kind of behind something. I guess it lured him into a secluded area and then jumped him. I didn’t try to see what it was before I attacked.”

  “That’s probably a good thing. Any further injuries and this little one would be dead.”

  “Is he going to survive?”

  “I don’t know. Continue with your story.” Agatha finished with her stitching, tied off the end neatly, and then reached for her glue gun to seal down the whole length of her work. Then, she moved on to the next wound and began to repeat the process.

  “But, that’s about everything, I guess. I attacked, and the thing threw me, and then it was gone.” He lowered his voice threateningly. “I need to know if this wolf saw anything. Anything he tells me will only be useful.”

  “Unless he really was ambushed and saw nothing.”

  “He has other senses,” Tristan insisted. “Scent, sound. If nothing else at all, he can give me a better idea of what to watch out for in the future. This is personal, dammit.”

  “I know,” Agatha soothed. “Believe me, I know. Not a day goes by that we don’t mourn the loss of your parents. Not that you aren’t doing a good job yourself, of course.”

  No matter how good of a job I do, I know I’m not up to par with Mom and Dad.

  Tristan lowered his head, thinking bitter thoughts to himself while Agatha went about her job. The total process of sealing all the omega’s wounds took only about fifteen minutes, but every second was like an eternity. When the glue had all set, Agatha wrapped him in bandages while Tristan held up the omega’s bloody body. At least he could feel some of the blood crusting up now, which meant nothing new was flowing.

  “Well, honestly, I don’t know what more I can do for him. Our resources here are very limited, Tristan. They’re limited even further when he’s in this form.”

  “Why hasn’t he shifted back?” he demanded. “It’s strange.”

  “Maybe a little,” Agatha admitted, raising her steely eyes to look at him. “But he is stronger like this. He’s battling for his life. But quite honestly, I don’t think it’s a battle he’s going to win. Nothing is broken, although he has quite a few sprains in his legs. It was just the blood loss, and that’s very serious. If he lasts through the night, I’ll be surprised.”

  “Dammit,” Tristan snarled. “Fuck!” Anger and frustration rocked his whole body. Lunging around, he slammed his fist hard enough against the wall to leave a shattered dent. Splinters stuck fast in his knuckles, but he was undeterred. He reared back for another strike, only to feel a cool hand rest on his arm.

  “That’s enough.”

  Agatha’s voice was soothing, but firm. Tristan stayed where he was, his blood boiling with anger. He felt so full of hatred that he wondered if he would go mad with it. Why did all this bullshit keep happening to him?

  “If you’ll calm down, I’ll tell you an idea I have.”

  He spun around so fast that the world wheeled around with him. “What?” he demanded.

  For the first time since her arrival, the doctor looked a little frightened. “Tristan, you have to promise to be sensible.”

  “Okay.”

  “You didn’t promise.”

  He just glared hard at her until she put her hands in the air and gave up with a sigh. “Okay, but just remember: be sensible. Mates have a very special connection.”

  What does that have to do with anything?

  “A bonded pair have deep ties with each other. Their balance makes them stronger. This omega is single and unavailable, and so are you.”

  Tristan stared at Agatha, his heart starting to pound. “That’s an absurd idea. You’re a fucking idiot.�
��

  She shrugged a little. “Am I?”

  “Yes! How would he know if I bit him?”

  “His wolf spirit would.”

  “But if he died, that would destroy my wolf spirit!”

  Agatha grabbed his arm and snarled, and he imagined he could see the wolf in her eyes. “So what? Which would you rather do, you young fool? Sit idly by and let a puzzle piece to this mystery die, or take the plunge and increase your chances of getting revenge? I know that’s what you want. We all do.” She released him, looking almost disgusted. “I don’t care what you alphas do with your lives, but you need to use your head on this one, Tristan. If you bond him to you, if you claim him, his spirit will fight that much stronger to live so he can see you. And it takes care of that other problem, as well. You know the one.”

  He did.

  It was the very reason he’d gotten into an argument earlier.

  It was tradition for an alpha to lead with someone at their side, to balance them out. If a single alpha rose to leadership, he was supposed to choose a mate. His packmates had given him a bit of a reprieve on that due to the nature of his rise to leadership, but it had been a whole year since then and they were starting to disrespect him for it. His gayness didn’t matter. Spirit spoke to spirit despite sexuality or appearances, which meant a wolf could have any relationship he chose.

  He just actually needed to choose one.

  “He doesn’t even know me, and I don’t know him. I could never love him.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” Agatha said softly. “You will have saved his life. Might that not be enough for him? And as for you...who knows? But I’ve wasted long enough with this jabber. Let me patch you up as well. Just know that whatever decision you make, you must do it soon. He may not have long.”

  Tristan held very still as the doctor came over to him with her tools. He noticed that she carried only the needle and that interesting white thread. “This might be easier for both of us if you sit down,” Agatha said, not without a bit of amusement.

  “Just do it and then get out,” he said shortly. “As fast as you can. I don’t care if it scars. I just need to be alone to think.”

  She got to work without another word to him, but he did hear her mutter, “Young alphas...” under her breath. He ignored the remark, focusing instead on the sting of the needle as it wove in and out of his skin in swift, practiced jabs that weren’t hurried at all despite the speed. She knew what she was doing.

  The silence between them stretched nearly the whole minute she was sealing his wounds, but eventually he couldn’t hold his tongue any longer. “Why is the thread so weird?”

  Agatha glanced up at him, that same amusement flashing in her eyes. “Did you think that I was going to sew you up like I was darning a pair of socks? Did you want some blue cotton permanently embedded inside your flesh?”

  He couldn’t help the twitch of a smile that played around the corners of his mouth. “It would be a very fetching scar.”

  “I’m sure your future mate would adore it,” she chuckled. Tristan stiffened unhappily, but she continued on as though she hadn’t said a single word about it. “In any case, it’s a special thread. It can be broken down and absorbed by the body.”

  “What if it breaks down too soon and the wound isn’t ready yet?”

  Agatha shrugged a little. “It has something to do with timing and the way the body interacts with foreign substances. I’m not quite sure how it works, honestly. I’m a healer, not a chemist or a biologist or a medical engineer.”

  Tristan sighed a little. Even the simplest things were ones that he couldn’t find answers to. “You know, I should think about forming a council like my parents had. Would you like to be on it?”

  This time, Agatha actually laughed out loud. She even slapped her knee, a comical gesture that at once amused and infuriated him. “You’ve been at the head of this pack for a year and you’ve only now started thinking about a council and a mate?”

  “I’ve been busy,” he growled.

  “True enough,” the silver wolf chuckled, wiping a tear from her eye from laughing so hard. Then she grew serious again. “Tristan, you need to start thinking about all these things much more seriously. Starting now. I know what you’ve been ‘busy’ with and I would have told you that there are some points in life when you have to drop your quest for revenge. After this, I’m not sure anymore. Shit happens. Whatever you do now, good luck.”

  Tristan said nothing else, mulling over the words in his mind, and then he shook his head. As near as he could figure, there would never come a point when he dropped his quest for revenge. This was the most important thing he had ever done in his life and he would not stop until it was done. Even without this sudden occurrence, he would have continued onward.

  The doctor sighed and shook her head. “I see. Well, you know where to find me.”

  “I do. And thank you. I’ll be thinking about what you said, though. I promise.” As he spoke, he mentally crossed his fingers.

  Perhaps the doctor could see what he did, or perhaps not. No matter what she thought, she just smiled sadly and left. However, just before going out the door, she turned back. “Oh, yes. Actually, yes. Sign me up for that council of yours.”

  And then she was gone, and Tristan was left alone with the dying omega.

  His heart pounded in his chest as he turned to the small wolf on his bed, looking down at it. For the life of him, he couldn’t imagine ever taking the little creature as his mate. He couldn’t imagine ever taking anyone as a mate, honestly. It just felt too odd to do something like that, to bond with someone until they knew what he was thinking, or what he might want to do in the future. It was almost worrisome to consider, honestly. A leader sometimes had secrets, and the only way a secret could be kept was often if no one else ever found out about it. With a mate who could read his innermost thoughts... That was just asking for trouble.

  Tristan balled his hands into fists and shoved them against his eyes, wracking his brain, but no solution presented itself.

  He knew. He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew.

  For the sake of his journey for revenge, for the sake of his parents’ memory, he had to do this.

  Almost before he made the decision, Tristan felt his wolf form taking over him. Before long, he stood on all fours in his bedroom, staring at himself in the mirror on the back of the door. A blazing white wolf with silver points, he had always thought he was quite handsome. He knew that his pack thought so too, so what would be their reaction when they found out he was standing with a scrawny, common brown omega?

  He shook his head and quickly made a pact with himself as he put his paws up on the bed. He wouldn’t tell anyone about what he’d done until the omega was awake and moving around—and if he died, no one would ever know.

  Leaning down, he opened his jaws and reached for the omega’s neck. Then he pulled back, hesitating. And then he shrugged. What was one more tiny little wound? So, he grabbed the omega’s scruff in his jaws and bit down just hard enough to break the skin and leave his mark.

  As he did so, he felt something wash over him. It was terribly weak and gone before he hardly knew it was there. At the same time, something almost overwhelmingly strong seemed to pull out of his body and flow into the omega. The little wolf’s body shivered and then was still, but Tristan imagined that his heart had already begun to beat just a little bit stronger.

  What am I doing, he wondered, as he curled up on the floor by the bed and shut his eyes tightly. He had no intentions of sleeping, and he was too aware of the omega breathing for that.

  By dawn, he knew the omega would live.

  Chapter 5

  Jack opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember anything. All he knew was that this definitely wasn’t his bedroom in his house at Wolf Haven, the first reason being that he couldn’t hear any of the barking or arguing that constantly sounded through the house at all hours of the day.


  The second reason was because they had an actual house with plaster walls, and his bedroom had a slanted ceiling because it was actually a modified attic. This was the roof of a cabin, formed of rustic wooden slats.

  I have to be calm, he told himself. No matter what happened, I have to be calm.

  Without moving his body, he slid his eyes around. The room was incredibly sparse, with little decoration besides a few paintings hanging on the wall. The first idea that came to him was a hospital, although he didn’t know what kind of hospital would be inside a cabin. He was lying on a bed, covered with a light, thin sheet, but he didn’t want to move to inspect that yet; more to the point, something just told him that it would be best if he didn’t move.

  Still casting his gaze around, he happened across a mirror that hung on the back of the closed bedroom door. In it, he saw a glimpse of the bed. It was a cheap, flimsy thing with a frame that looked as if a mouse could tear it to pieces. The mattress was military-thin, and the sheet covering him was blue. Beneath his head was a stained pillow.

  He knew that he was lying in that bed in his human form. He really, really didn’t want to see what he looked like because now that he was starting to become aware of himself, he knew that he was going to be in bad shape. His body was still numb and sleeping, an artificial, drugged sleep, but the pain was like a monster just waiting beneath the bed, ready to lunge out at him the moment he gave it a sign of wakefulness.

  Still, Jack had to know and so he focused on himself.

  Actually, it wasn’t that bad. He actually looked normal from what he could see of himself from this angle—just his face and one arm which was hanging off the bed—but it was what was attached to him that caused him the most worry. The arm hanging off the bed had a needle in it, sealing into his vein by a thick bandage and a piece of tape. The needle trailed towards a dangling IV bag, attached from point A to point B by a tube that was continuously dripping some sort of clear fluid.

  Maybe this was some sort of disguised hospital? Was this what hospitals did these days to try and make the setting less clinical?