Omega Wanted: Bad Boy Mpreg Romance

by Stephan James

  Of course, shapeshifter children grew in the womb quickly…

  And just like that, Lance changed his mind. Not his opinion, which was that this little leopard was nothing more than a rat who deserved torment at the venomed mouth of a snake, but his mind. He knew he couldn't throw this shifter to the viper, no matter what he'd done. His conscience wouldn't let him.

  Very calmly, he said, "Listen to me. Run."

  The viper woman stared at him, uncomprehending for the split second it took for the message to sink into Matias.

  Lance released his grip, and the small man exploded into feline form and fled. At the same instant, the woman lunged forward, dropping to the ground as a serpent and throwing herself after the fleeing leopard.

  And Lance changed as well, lurching sideways and biting down on the scaly body as it surged past him. He felt a distinct crunch as his teeth severed the spine, and the snake snapped back around in its death throes to take him with it.

  Two thin, hollow fangs brushed harmlessly through the fur on his cheek. Dripping venom clung to his whiskers, and he tossed his head to flick it away while dropping the lifeless body down at his paws.

  "Is it safe?" a small voice said. Lance turned to stare hard at the man poking his head around the doorway, eyes very wide.

  "For now," he replied, "but it will probably not stay that way. Where there is one snake, there are many waiting nearby. And you are a very wanted man right now. And…" He cut off what he was about to say next. There was no use explaining what might not be true.

  "And?"

  "You are still not free to go," Lance reminded him harshly. "I'm going to take you back with me to see Albus. He will know what to do."

  Matias lowered his head, wiping sweat from his dark brow with one tanned hand. "Poor little kitty can't do anything on his own without getting permission from his husband, huh? You're literally pussy-whipped, aren't you?"

  "Ha," Lance said, surprised at the laugh. "You have more fire than I thought you would, but remember this: you might be small, fast, and clever, but you aren't in danger from me if you run. You're in danger from everyone else who suddenly won't have to fight their way through me to get to you. Remember that."

  Albus hated being left home alone while Lance went off on these dangerous missions of his, but he knew that his mate continued on with them because he wasn't quite ready to fully settle down and accept that he didn't need to work. The companies made more than enough money for them to live comfortable for their next nine lives, but still, he insisted on venturing out to take the world by storm.

  I just wish he wouldn't take such risks. He knows I love him, so why does he put himself in a situation where it might come to be that he's not here to love anymore?

  There was no solid answer to that question, he knew. Nothing in the world was so cut and dried as to always have an answer that went one way or another. Still, he pined after Lance like a teen girl after a pop idol, with the difference being that his love could die at a moment's notice and he would forever be left in the dark without knowing what happened.

  Sighing, Albus slumped over and rested his forehead in his hand.

  Immediately, the murmur of discussing voices around him ran to a halt, reminding him that he was in a meeting where he was actually supposed to be paying attention –or at the very least doing a convincing job of acting like it.

  "Sir?" one of his company heads asked worriedly. "Are you okay?"

  Taking a moment before he lifted his head, Albus struggled to push his exhaustion away and force his face into the impassive, confident mask of a businessman that he inherited from his father. Having found it, he looked up and around at the thirteen men and women all wearing their very best, sitting around the table and expecting him to help make decisions that would impact hundreds of lives. He lost the mask and sighed, then put his hands down on the table and stood.

  "Yes," he lied, "I'm fine." It was obvious that he wasn't, but what else was he going to say? "Feel free to continue without me. I'll be back in only a moment."

  He strode out of the meeting room with his back straight, walking like a man with a purpose until he was far enough away from the window so that none of them could see it when he let his spirit crumble.

  He didn't stop to gather himself and then head back in. He didn't head to the restroom to splash water on his face. He didn't grab a cup of coffee to revive his energy. He just went back to his office, shut the door behind him, and then flopped down on the floor with his arm over his eyes and the other beneath his head.

  What's wrong with me? he thought weakly, despondently. Why do I feel this way?

  Was it because Lance was gone? Or was it everything bearing down on him, forcing him into a state of existential crisis? Maybe he just wasn't suited for a life of pressure like this, and he should just hand off his company to any one of those thirteen company heads in there who were way more competent at his job than he was. And actually, the urge to do so was quite powerful, to the point that he had almost convinced himself to do it when his door suddenly opened.

  He was lying in the way so it smacked into his foot. Letting out a little yelp of pain, he tucked up his leg out of the way.

  "I'm so sorry, sir! I…sir?"

  Blinking up, Albus gave his secretary a sheepish smile. "Hey, Bev. What's up?"

  She thought about this for a moment before shrugging and deciding it wasn't the strangest thing she'd ever done. "You have a phone call. It's Mr. Cassian, Mr. Cassian."

  In an instant, he had leaped to his feet. Joy soared in his breast, and he could have danced. "Lance is calling?"

  The secretary just backed up out of the way so he could go answer his phone and then she left, but not before he heard her mutter, "Quite graceful."

  Picking up the phone, Albus didn't answer for a moment and instead craned his hearing in silence. Much to his delight, he was rewarded with a hefty, impatient breath the likes of which he'd come to know and love. "Lance! What are you doing? You know you're not supposed to call me at work."

  He winced immediately after. That technique of playing hard to get was one of his favorite things to do, although his mate hated it. He just forgot sometimes, however.

  The response that came next was not Lance teasing him or telling him to shut up, or even continuing to be annoyed. It was a cold-blooded snarl. "Sweet, we've kind of got a situation going on. I need you to come back to the apartment. Immediately."

  Fear gathered in a knot in his stomach, tempered by excitement at seeing his love again. "What's wrong?"

  "Just get back here." And the line went dead.

  Albus stood there for a moment, indecisive as always. It only lasted for a moment, though, as he realized that he was the boss here. He didn't have to go back to that dreadful meeting, and he didn't have to explain his motives to anyone if he didn't want to.

  Straightening up, he grabbed his car keys and went out through the front door of his office. This being the top floor, he had his own little reception area just outside, where his secretary was hard at work behind her own glass wall. She looked up as he came by. "Did everything go okay, sir?"

  "Family emergency," he replied rapidly. "Tell the meeting I'm supposed to be in to take majority votes for any decision I'm supposed to make."

  He hurried past before she could say anything else, and then leaped into the elevator. As it went down at a rapid pace that still wasn't quite fast enough for him, he allowed himself a moment to relax and wonder if he could always get out of meetings like that. Probably not. He was more of a figurehead and representative that anything, and he couldn't represent anyone if he wasn't there.

  His driver was waiting for him, as always, though the man looked a little surprised to see him so early. He was a professional, however, and his face was once again a blank slate by the time Albus got to him.

  "Good evening, sir. And where are we going?"

  "Home. Quickly."

  They arrived at the apartment complex in record time, and Alb
us didn't even wait for the vehicle to completely stop before jumping out. He didn't even stumble, nimbly catching his feet, but even running as a human was much too slow.

  Dropping down into a leopard and folding his ears back against his head, he raced up the stairwell in leaps and bounds, front paws flashing out in front of him while his back legs propelled him forward. Faster and faster he went, his mouth and nostrils gaping open to catch the scent of any human who might be coming down and see a wild animal on the stairs, but all he could smell was dust and his own impatience.

  Arriving at the very top where their penthouse suite was, he shifted back into a human so he could open the door. Practically slamming his shoulder into it, he fell inside and looked around.

  Everything was as it should have been.

  Albus loved to decorate and he had taken this place in his own hands when renting it, paying off the owner to get him not to care. It was split level, with the second floor slightly more like a loft. Up there were bedrooms, all tastefully arranged with classic solid colors, and a library immediately off the stairs. Well, he liked to call it a library but it was really just a very long row of shelves overflowing with his favorite books.

  The first floor was where the kitchen and dining areas and living rooms were, and he had designed the layout for all of those as well. Plenty of stylish, comfortable seating. There were enough appliances in the kitchen to cook for the army, and the kitchen table was as perfect as always, complete with a centerpiece because he and Lance ate wherever they felt like.

  Speaking of Lance, where was he?

  Taking a more careful look around, he called out, "Lance?" just in the moment that he noticed the small, dark man sitting on the sectional. His skin was nearly the same color as it, a smooth shade of coffee that complimented the carpet.

  Surprise thrilled through him, and he brought one hand to his mouth to try to stifle the gasp that exploded out. "Alexander!"

  The small man gave a weary smile.

  "No…You're not Alexander, are you? You lied to us."

  "So I did, and so I'm not," the man said in his soft voice. He looked so incredibly tired that Albus found himself sympathizing without knowing why. Maybe it was because he himself knew that exhaustion, where all other aches, pains, and troubles fell away beneath it. "I am a thief. I masquerade."

  "Cut the crap," Lance said, emerging from the bathroom while wiping his hands on his jeans. "You're a thief. Masquerades have nothing to do with a lying little rat like you are. Hello, dear."

  Albus couldn't help it: he ran over to Lance and threw his arms around his neck. Their lips met in a deep, comforting kiss. Even when it was over, they kept their lips together and just breathed together for a moment before pulling back from each other.

  "What's going on?" Albus asked. "You went for a job and came back with him? Why are you calling him a thief?"

  The man just scowled at the carpet, obviously hating to be talked out. Petulant like a child.

  "I am calling him a thief because he is a thief, but there are a lot of things I don't know because he won't talk to me."

  "That's because you're scary and intimidating, dear," Albus said gently, glancing over at the pouting man again. "Do we know his name?"

  "Matias. You see if you can get anything out of him. I'm hungry."

  Lance prowled away to go to the kitchen. Albus watched him go and then turned to the man called Matias.

  "That's a cute name," he said softly, approaching slowly. Every inch of him was prepared to leap away at the first sign of provocation, but the little guy just sat there with his shoulders slumped and his spirits in shambles.

  "Thanks, I guess. Cute was probably what my mother was going for."

  "Well, it worked." Albus took an armchair opposite and then leaned forward to speak to Matias over the coffee table between. "So, you're going to have to explain some things to me."

  "And you have some things to explain as well," Matias challenged.

  Anger sparked in his throat, constricting it. "I have nothing to explain. I'm not the one being questioned here."

  "Yet, you should be," the small man continued to challenge. "I should have known when you introduced yourselves to me, but I was distracted. Still, how many gay couples in the world are composed of an Albus and a Lance? Yet, I did not figure out that you were the Cassians until I was dragged in this penthouse. If I had known, I might not have messed with you in the first place."

  "That's another lie, isn't it?"

  "Yes."

  Albus shook his head, at once amazed and frustrated.

  "But tell me, then. What on earth are the Cassians doing paying for sex? Don't you have enough men and women already trying to clamber into your bed? I thought men of money would have as much as they want."

  Something clicked inside his head. "That's why you agreed to everything. We mistook you for someone else and you thought it was just for sex."

  Those dark eyes flashed. "What was it for?"

  "Lance and I are trying to have a child," Albus explained.

  Matias threw back his head and let out a wild, startled laugh. "Are you kidding me? Two males trying to have a child with another male? That's absurd!"

  "It's possible. And judging from the smell of you, very plausible."

  As surprise and fear washed over Matias's face, saying the words out loud did the same thing to Albus for an entirely different reason. It was definitely true that Matias smelled much differently from when they had first met; the scent was deeper and not as pure, muddled like there were two.

  And if there are two…

  Albus decided to just explain it right out in the open. He'd had enough of this verbal song and dance. "According to ancient laws, two males can get each other pregnant if they mate in their animal form. However, one has to be less dominant the other. That was why we hired a surrogate, named Alexander. However, he went to the wrong place and we mistook you for him. And then you went along with it."

  "Surrogate," Matias whispered, and lay a hand on a stomach that was definitely a few degrees rounder than it had been.

  "Yes. You are carrying Cassian bloodline. I assume that's why Lance didn't kill you even though I guess you were his target."

  "You're right," Lance grumbled around a mouthful of the sandwich he was carrying. "And the client was there as well to make sure the job was done. A viper."

  Albus had to reach out to steady himself. Dear god, a viper! This thief was insane!

  "She is dead now. I chose to protect the possibility of our child."

  "So, what do we do now?" Matias demanded. "Are you just going to keep me locked up in here until I pop a baby out?"

  "No," Lance started to say, but in that moment there was an enormous crash as someone broke through the roof, and dropped down onto all fours in the middle of the living room. The concussive blast from their weight was enough to shake the floor, and Albus gripped harder to keep himself from falling.

  Matias cried out in alarm, and several things happened very quickly.

  The giant of a man who had broken through the roof was transforming, his body expanding and his face spilling forward as his arms and legs grew to the size of tree trunks. The floor was caving in beneath his mass.

  Elephant shifter, Albus thought. He braced himself to shift as well, and then he looked up and saw there were people at the hole in the ceiling, aiming guns down through it.

  Then, Lance's linebacker body slammed into him, and he was forcefully grabbed and thrown over a shoulder. Matias was on the other shoulder, screaming and confused.

  Once they were in the hallway, Lance dropped them. His shoulder was bleeding from a bullet wound.

  Albus reached for his love to pull him back in, but Lance stopped him. "Don't do that. You two, run and get to the driver. Head to the safe zone while I take care of things here."

  Tears sprang to his eyes, and he grabbed onto Lance anyway. "That's a suicide mission!"

  Lance's enormous hands wrapped around his. "No, m
y love. All I'm doing is buying us time, I promise. Please, get to safety. Keep our child and the cretin carrying him safe."

  "But…"

  "Go!"

  Albus turned to look at Matias, who was already shapeshifting. The two of them turned tail and fled.

  The safe house turned out to be a shoddy little cabin in the middle of the desert, right along the Mexican border.

  Matias was at once impressed and impatient with it, as it had all the modern amenities of a much larger house crammed into a space suitable only for dolls. A single minute was enough to explore it, and now that they were inside he wasn't even allowed to leave.

  He'd tried, already. Twice. Both times, some of the guards patrolling the perimeter had just stuffed him back in through the door.

  "This is a little absurd," he commented.

  Albus was sitting on the loveseat couch, sedately reading. He didn't even look up. "What's absurd, Matias?"

  "This!" He gestured around and then threw his hands into the air. "There's absolutely nothing to do or see here."

  "That would be because we're in hiding. That's what we're doing: hiding."

  "Well," he pouted, "I'm bored. I don't like to stay in one place for very long like this. It makes me uncomfortable."

  As he was speaking, there was a series of soft footfalls. And then, small hands grabbed his shoulders and whirled him around. Soft lips pressed against him, gently claiming them.

  "Hey," he tried to protest but it was a battle lost right away as the omega in him submitted to this more dominant man. Unease became the rippling pleasure, and he kissed Albus right back. His cock twitched in his pants, asking a question that was soon to be answered, he was sure.

  Albus kept kissing him, his tongue flicking out to caress the shape of his mouth. "You know…You're not actually so bad. For an annoying thief, that is. You're almost adorable."

  A blush rose up to his cheeks, as something else rose up in his pants and began to strain at the fabric. "Flattery won't get you anywhere."