Abel's Omega(Gay Paranomal MM Mpreg Romance) (Mercy Hills Pack Book 2)

by Ann-Katrin Byrde

  Fuck. Abel rubbed his eyes, then checked the time. FUCK! He tossed the keyboard onto his beanbag chair and stomped his way into the bathroom to get cleaned up. Today was supposed to be clearing up the grant paperwork for the new storage warehouse that they desperately needed but now couldn’t afford. And he’d promised to take Bax down to the Labor Center to look for a job, and to fill out forms for his kids for the daycare.

  Abel stared at himself in the mirror. You need to get a grip. There’s too many people who depend on you.

  An hour later, still buried up to his chin in indecipherable paperwork, his phone rang. Grateful for any excuse to avoid the damned lines of check-boxes and instructions, he grabbed for it. “Hello?”

  “You busy?” Mac said.

  “Grant applications. Save me.” Actually, don’t save me. We need this. I just suck at doing them, and Louise is already working more hours than a woman her age should be. He wished he had someone else with a talent, or at least an interest, in hunting down money for the pack. The old Alpha’s mate had been a meticulous, nit-picking bureaucrat who loved nothing more than searching the Internet for ways to benefit the pack. It was a shame that they hadn’t found anyone to replace her when she’d passed.

  “I’d offer to help, but I’d just make things worse. Do you want me to take Bax around and see where he fits in? Is Gerald busy today? Because we should look at housing, and Gerald will have a better grasp of what’s coming available, or what can be made available soon. I love Macy, and Bax’s kids are cute, but having five of them in one house is just too damn much. I’ll go lunar on you if one more pup attacks my ankles this morning.”

  “Are they that bad?” Shit, he hadn’t talked to Gerald about housing. He made a note on a piece of scrap paper and stuck it right in the middle of his desk so he wouldn’t forget.

  “Just excited, I think. Bax is mortified, and Jason’s running interference. I need out of this house!” Mac laughed, though, taking the edge off the words. “But seriously. If you’re busy, I’ll take him around. Jason’s going to take the kids to Central Park and let them run off some energy. I brought the garden wagon back with me this morning so he can just pack them all in there.”

  Abel cast an unwilling glance over the paperwork. He could do some of it over lunch. Maybe a break was what he needed—the lines were all starting to run together in his head. “No, I’ll do it. Give me a few minutes to get down there.”

  “Why don’t I bring them up? It’s a nice day, and I don’t want Jason pulling that wagon with the kids in it. It’s not that far from Central Park to your office.”

  So much for getting away from the paperwork. “Sure. I might get another line or two filled in before you get here.”

  He could hear the grin in Mac’s voice. “You need another secretary.”

  “You applying for the job?” But no, it wasn’t a secretary he needed, but a fundraiser and government-paperwork grunt. Abel sighed. He knew how to plan a project, knew how to bring it to completion, knew how to find bugs in code and fix them, but the paperwork was going to drive him as lunar as the kids were driving Mac. “Yeah, I’ll meet you in the office.” He paused, then added, “Hurry up.”

  Mac laughed and they ended the call.

  An hour and a half later, he thought he was finished with the form, or it was finished with him. Either way, he wasn’t sure who’d won. A single silver key rested to the side on his desk, dropped off by Gerald not ten minutes ago.

  Just in time, too, because as soon as he put down his pen, his phone buzzed with a text from Mac to let them into the pack’s offices. He met them at the door. Bax stood back to let Mac go through before him, and Mac stood back to let the guest go first, and the two of them did an odd little dance until Abel reached out and pulled Mac through the door. “Come in, Bax,” he said, guessing that essentially being alone on unfamiliar ground would make the omega even more uneasy than he had been last night. Bax smiled uncertainly and ducked his head, slipping into the room with all the impact of a ghost.

  Abel’s phone buzzed. He checked the screen. “I’m going to have to get this. I’m Technical Support this morning.” He waved Mac out the door and pointed Bax toward the chair in front of his desk as he answered. While he unsnarled an issue with their bargain basement accounting software, he wandered over to the window and gazed out over his pack’s home. He hoped it would make Bax feel more at ease.

  The problem turned out to be easier to fix than he’d expected, just some setting that had been changed or had reset itself, and he was on the phone for less than ten minutes all told. Relieved, Abel turned back to the room, and froze. Bax was looking over his paperwork, in the process of lifting a pen from the paper.

  “What are you doing?” Abel blurted without thinking.

  Bax gasped and dropped the pen. He practically leaped out of the chair, spinning to face Abel. His skin had gone from its natural milk white to gray, an uncomfortable echo of last night. “I’m sorry, I used to help Patrick with paper work and I noticed…” His voice trailed off and he took a half step backwards, his head bent and his arms wrapped around his torso as if he expected to be hit.

  Easy there, Alpha. Fuck, how could people treat each other this way? Didn’t they get enough shit from the humans? Damage control. “I hate these forms,” he said in a self-deprecating tone. “It usually takes me submitting them three or four times before I get them right. Louise handles the financial stuff for the pack, but she’s tied down keeping me organized and keeping track of the budget.” He wandered casually over to the desk and picked up the form, acutely aware of the tension in Bax’s body. “Why did you change the category for the project?” It didn’t seem logical, but Bax must have had a reason.

  Slowly, cautiously, Bax sidled up beside him. “I know it looks like it should be the right category, but the projects that get approved for that funding are usually bigger and are focused on trade. Packs hardly ever get them—I think the only one that ever did was the one in North Carolina. In this category,” he pointed toward the next one on the list, “If you change the project to have a cultural slant, they’re more likely to approve it, because they hate to think they’re making us more independent, but they still need to look like they’re doing something so we stay content behind our walls. Culture is a good compromise.” He glanced up, met Abel’s eyes, then stared down at the floor again. “I used to call sometimes, pretend I was a human who’d been hired to help the pack fill out the forms. You get more information that way, and less hassle. Patrick didn’t know—he just liked that he could sign and have the work done. Not that he did much.” Bax’s eyes widened and Abel clearly heard his sudden intake of breath.

  Careful. “I like the way you think,” Abel said, keeping his tone neutral. “Maybe it won’t be hard to find a job for you after all. If you’re willing to handle the government forms, that will mean I have more time for other projects. And maybe you can help Louise with some of the bookkeeping. Heaven knows, she’s getting too old for all this crap.”

  It seemed to be the right thing to say—Bax’s eyes went wide and the color flooded back into his face. The corners of his lips turned up in a tentative smile that grew larger when Abel smiled back at him. He very obviously wanted to be useful here, to prove that he was worth keeping. And if Abel were in his situation, he’d probably grasp at any opportunity to make himself valuable.

  Bax looked down at the form, then back up to Abel, spearing him with those beautiful green eyes. “I haven’t done any bookkeeping. Patrick didn’t think omegas were good with money.”

  Abel snorted. “I’d like to see him say that to my grandmother.” His words coaxed a small gurgle of laughter from Bax. “Would you be willing to give it a try? Louise will know what would help her best.”

  “Yes, I would. I won’t disappoint you.” Bax’s eyes shone with hope.

  “I can’t imagine how you could.” Abel decided that he liked how this emotion looked on Bax. He had to do his best to make sure Bax had more g
ood experiences here at Mercy Hills—the young omega looked in desperate need of them. And then, maybe, some day in the future, once they knew each other better… Who knew? But he wasn’t going to rush it, not too much. He had two weeks until Bax’s travel documents were no good anymore, and a lot could happen in two weeks. Not everything, but if Bax was willing to see where things went, Abel could talk to Roland about letting Bax stay.

  He’d need some help—he’d never really courted anyone before. Good thing he had friends to help him figure out the best way to woo a wary omega.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Abel took me on a tour of his offices and of the small part of the building where he and about half a dozen other young shifters worked intently on computers to make…something. Like most packs, any money that came in went to pack coffers, so it wasn’t like they were doing this to get rich, but the work ethic I saw, on a Saturday morning, was impressive. Of course, I wasn’t making much sense of it all. My body kept noticing Abel, and my brain kept wishing that I could be sure he’d always be like this, and that I had a chance with him. Because he was kind, and sweet, and funny. Anything I even glanced at in curiosity got explained, anything I showed the slightest interest in, I got a tour of.

  It was…different.

  I was used to being invisible. Being so completely noticed was both exhilarating and unnerving. I kept waiting for him to see something he didn’t like, but it never happened, and eventually I grew bolder. Not that I was more certain of my treatment, but I needed to find the boundaries, needed to know what behavior would get me punished.

  And it never happened.

  The worst that occurred was being turned away from a door I wasn’t supposed to go through, but immediately after, he took me through the rooms that were being renovated to expand the software business, then down a floor into a workshop where busy shifters were assembling solar panels that one of the pack members had designed. Next door to that, empty rooms waited to be turned into the home office for a brewery once they had their permits to sell outside walls, something he was expecting any day now. The thought of it seemed to excite him, even more so when he mentioned he wanted Jason to start coming up with some products they could try to market as well, and pointed out an entire floor—currently empty—that could be put to use in their production. His pleasure in another shifter’s success was very real, and it eased some of my concerns about him, although I couldn’t help feeling a bit of regret for my old pack, with their no one succeeds unless I succeed culture.

  He showed me Jason’s gardens—huge things on the west side of the town, with row upon empty row where vegetables had once grown. At the far end of the deep brown soil, I could see a group of people bending and straightening, putting things into bins. I thought I caught a glimpse of red hair, and wondered if that was Mac.

  We walked down to Supplies, which was actually in the same building, but had its own entrances at the point where the two long arms of the building came together. There, I was allowed to make a list of things I thought I needed, and food I’d like to have. Abel had them deliver it, which I gathered was something special, and when they asked where, he said, “Guest quarters. The large one. Call Maintenance to let you in.”

  Guest quarters. It only made sense—I wasn’t a part of the community yet. I’d need to prove my worth. That, or find a shifter to mate me and take my babies.

  Abel took my arm as we walked out of the building. “I hope you don’t mind the guest quarters. I was hoping to find something with a yard for you, but we’re full and there’s no families ready to move out yet, though in six months that might change.”

  I realized that Abel was waiting for a response. “Oh, no. I truly appreciate everything you’re doing for me.” And here was a chance to make sure he knew I understood how generous he was being. “You would have had every right to tell me to turn back around, because I know if you decide to let me stay, it’ll cause trouble for you.” Or maybe not—Roland would probably be ecstatic to think he was making connections with Mercy Hills. Could he ask for a mating gift for my second mating? He probably would. Although, if I took a while finding a new mate, he might have enough time to forget about me. Out of sight, and all that. “If there’s anything at all I can do to make up for the trouble, please, I’d be happy to do it.”

  “I’m sure it won’t be that bad. We can always bribe your old pack.” His expression turned dark and then he made a visible effort to shake off whatever it was that troubled him.

  Impulsively, I asked, “What’s wrong? Have I already caused problems?” I held my breath in fear of the response.

  “Huh? No! No, I was just thinking…” His voice trailed off and he looked at me, assessing. For what? Then he shook his head. “You might as well know. Jason’s birth pack took us to human court over the rights to him.”

  I nodded. “I saw it on the news.”

  “Well, the judge decided that we could keep him, but that we needed to pay Montana Border because we’d broken pack law in mating Jason without negotiating with his pack. It’s a quarter million dollars.”

  I whistled, despite how un-omega-like it was. “That’s a lot.”

  Abel nodded. “I have some of it—we planned to expand to the east, build more houses and maybe start growing our own animals for food. But that’s all on hold over this.” He gestured as if Montana Border’s lawsuit were right in front of him.

  “That’s a shame.” And then the implications hit me. “So, you really don’t have any money to deal with Jackson-Jellystone.”

  “We’ll sort something out. Come on, I’ll give you a tour of the town, show you the park. It’s a good place to take the pups to run, and the day care is right off it, so you might as well see that too.”

  He showed me the rest of the town. There was even a small restaurant, and Abel explained that it worked like Supplies and Housing. You signed for your meal, and your account was debited the amount that the meal was worth.

  It was like a fairy tale.

  Right in the center of the little town was a large green space with trees all around it. At one end was a slide—I recognized it from stolen hours watching television—and a sandbox, which we did have at Buffalo Gap. Painted metal pipes criss-crossed each other beside them, covered in pups climbing, hanging, and jumping from them. An older shifter seemed to be supervising, but it was mostly to keep them from hurting themselves or each other. The pups seemed at liberty to play how they wanted, and I listened in for signs of bullying or class friction, but I didn’t hear anything. A subtle tension I hadn’t even realized I’d been feeling drained out of my shoulders. My pups would be safe here.

  Not far from the playground sat a low, white building, the grass in front of it scattered full of toys. On its right, a good-sized square of the park was fenced in behind a neat picket-style fence.

  “We call this Central Park. Not after the New York one. It used to have a name, but people just started calling that, and it stuck,” Abel said. His mood had improved as we walked, and he looked entirely relaxed now. “This is where we usually gather for full moons. We do big official things in spring and fall, but the rest of the year is just come as you are and people usually bring whatever food they feel like making and we all wander around and get fat until we decide we want to run.”

  His tone made me laugh. “It sounds like fun. We used to do a bonfire twice a year.” The bonfires were fun. The young shifters would write wishes on slips of paper and burn them. For the omegas in my birth pack, it had mostly been in hope of a rich and handsome mate—after all, a mating was in all our futures. I cast a glance at Abel, thinking he would have fit the bill for young Bax perfectly. Older Bax—well, older Bax wanted to wait and see. But I had to admit, I was much less nervous of him now than I had been before our tour.

  Why couldn’t life be simple?

  We waved at Jason and the pups over by the slide as we walked, but didn’t approach. Despite the sudden ache of emptiness in my arms, it was a relief to have someone I
could trust my pups to, to not always be organizing five people for something only one was needed to do.

  Abel led me across the park. It was bigger than I’d first thought, and I was impressed with the amount of space they’d set aside in the middle of the town. Or maybe not quite the middle—when I turned my head, I could see the top of the wall not more than a mile away, so we were close to the edge of the pack land. The silver coated bars at the top gleamed in the sunshine and I shivered.

  “Are you cold?” Abel stripped off his jacket and, before I could do more than open my mouth to protest, he had wrapped it around my shoulders. “I guess coming from down south you’re not used to the temperatures here. I’m sorry, I should have thought.”

  The cloth was still warm with his body heat, and his scent rose to my nostrils, creating a change in bloodflow that made other things rise as well. But I couldn’t bring myself to give it back—it was like being wrapped up in his arms, and I was tired of denying myself even the smallest indulgences, so I filed the sensation away to fuel my fantasies once the pups were in bed. “Thank you.”

  He smiled and we continued on across the park.

  Naturally, I waited at the door for Abel to go through first, as was his right as Alpha.

  “We don’t worry about rank here, not in everyday things.” Abel put his hand in the small of my back and guided me through the door ahead of him. I nearly tripped over the sill, I was so focused on that light pressure and, more shocking, how little I minded him doing something that had made me sick with fear when Patrick had done it. I filed that away as well. So much had happened, it was going to take me hours to make sense of it, and right now, I needed to pay attention to what was going on around me.

  The daycare was gorgeous. I’d read about them, but I’d never actually seen one, and my expectations were blown away.

  The first room we walked into was a large, brightly lit space filled with chairs and books and toys. I saw pups everywhere, and all of them busy at something, their laughter and the buzz of childish conversation filling the air.