Furbitten Falls Alpha's: A Wolf Shifter Mpreg Romance Bundle

by Preston Walker

  I made my way back from Frostbites as evening fell. As much fun as it was seeing Tate so happy and eating his baked goods (the boy could really bake) I was exhausted and needed to get home.

  I heard the music before I even got to the front door of the apartment building. The balcony doors were open and the music was pumping out into the night, the sounds of people screaming and laughing and having a great time drifting up into the air and falling to the street below.

  Tonight was not the night to do this. I didn’t want to. I headed up the stairs, the music getting progressively louder the closer I got to my door. I went inside and put my own headphones on, hoping they would cancel out the racket that was coming from next door. But to no avail.

  Fishstick was nowhere to be found, no doubt hiding away in his little cat tower I kept in the lounge or maybe having found his way into a cupboard to stop the noises from disturbing him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d gone out to explore the city, waiting for the music to die.

  Maybe it was Jarrett’s words, or maybe it was the fact that I couldn’t hear Annie Lennox over whatever bass-ridden dance/club remix was playing, but something in my head snapped and the wolf within me roared.

  I got to my feet and marched out of my own front door, hammering on my neighbors until someone heard and came to open it up.

  A cacophony flew out at me as the door opened, a wave of noise and screaming coupled with the stench of sweaty bodies and sweet alcohol. The guy who answered the door was totally hammered, swaying in the doorway, unable to focus on me even for a second. The wolf in my veins raged.

  “I want to talk to whoever rents this apartment,” I barked over the music. “Is it you?”

  “What?” the guy slurred.

  “Do you live here?” I shouted slowly, emphasizing each word, getting closer and closer to barging in there and finding whoever it was myself.

  “Oh, you want Niko,” he said, turning back to the party and calling out to somebody further in. “Niko! You’ve got a visitor!”

  He didn’t say goodbye, just walking back into the party and starting to dance again. The guy stood in front of me was young, of course, pale skin, long limbs and jet-black dyed hair. He had a lazy smile on his face that told me he’d been drinking and that he definitely didn’t care about what I was here to say.

  “Hey buddy, what’s up?”

  “Okay, first of all, I’m not your buddy,” I growled. “My name is Slater. I live next door and this has been going on for quite a few days now.”

  Niko looked confused, his eyebrows knitting together, his mouth twisting to a pout. “No, this party started about an hour ago,” he said.

  “That’s not what I meant,” I couldn’t get my words out. There was something at the party, a scent that was trying to pull my attention. Not now. “You’ve been playing your music really loud and I just wanted to come over and ask if you could maybe turn it down. Or at least stop it at some point before midnight so I can get some sleep.”

  He scoffed. “We keeping you up grandpa?”

  I blinked. Grandpa? “Excuse me?”

  “Get some ear plugs or something and leave me alone.” He moved to close the door but I stopped it with a strong hand. He raised an eyebrow at me. I was too tired to be fucked with right now.

  “I think you’re keeping half the building up, maybe even half the street, and I thought I would come around and ask you nicely if you would please turn it the fuck down, okay?”

  “Sorry, gramps,” he snorted. “But I’ve got a party to play for. Get some ear plugs or move somewhere else.”

  He peeled my hand off the door and closed it, leaving me dumbstruck. The music got turned right up, the bass pulsing through the floor and up through my body. In any other moment I would relish that feeling but not when I’d had hardly any sleep for over a week.

  I stormed back over to my place, slamming the door behind me and startling Fishstick from his place beneath the couch. He darted across the room and out of sight. Great, now my cat hated me too.

  I tried to settle, but I couldn’t. There was something in the air that stopped me. And then I caught it again, the memory of it still in my head, still filling my nostrils.

  There was a scent at that party. My mate’s scent, surely. I’d recognize it anywhere. There were too many people to tell who it was but he was nearby. Or maybe I was just tired. It had to be that. I was so delirious I was imagining things. That had to be it.

  4

  Niko

  Something stirred in me as the lock clicked shut and I couldn’t stop myself from staring at the closed door, wondering if he was still behind it.

  He was hot. It had to be said. He was tall, broad shouldered, his blond hair a little ruffled, a small amount of stubble on his face that made him look a little bit arty and bohemian. But he was older than me. I’d never really been attracted to someone older than me before. It wasn’t a problem, of course, but it was just new.

  He stirred something in me. Something enough that my wolf wasn’t about to back down when the alpha started coming for me at my own door, even though I was an omega. I definitely should have been letting him take control, but there I was, standing up for myself. I was pretty proud , actually, I didn’t back down. I mean, why would I? We were just having a good time, he needed to lighten the fuck up.

  So maybe I got a little carried away but there was something about him that made me want to keep talking to him, even if it was in a profoundly negative way. I wanted to be close to him and get closer to him, and I’d never really felt that for anybody before. It was a newness that I wasn’t wholly comfortable with.

  I started to wonder what else I could do, how else I could rile him up. I bet if he was hot when he was a little frustrated, when he got angry he would be positively on fire and I wouldn’t be able to resist him. Plus I wanted to know more about him. I’d had a taste and, frankly, I wanted more. I wanted the whole damn cake if I could.

  The following night I waited until I saw the lights go out on his balcony, certain that he was taking himself to bed. I cranked the volume up high, making sure the bass was at a ridiculous level so that the music was coming through a little distorted and let the walls shake.

  I mean, I was trying to rile him up, sure, but this was pretty fun for me. I loved when I could actually feel the music in my body. Whenever I’d gone clubbing when I was younger (sneaking in underage, the perks of having a brother that owned the club) I was always right by the speaker so I could feel it.

  It wasn’t long before there was a pounding on my door. A grin burst across my face, a grin I quickly hid away before I got to the door.

  “Are you seriously doing this right now?” Slater groaned. His hair a little disheveled, flecks of fluorescent green paint sticking some strands together and giving a weird sort of coloring to his blonde locks. “Come on.”

  “What are you talking about?” I said, struggling to keep the smile from my face. “I’ve got to practice. It’s not that loud.”

  “Not that loud?!” he repeated, incredulous. “The walls are shaking, Niko, the entire building is vibrating so hard it might collapse.”

  “You’re overreacting,” I said.

  He tensed, his hands balling to fists, the red mist seeming to descend over his eyes, the scent of him suddenly becoming more pronounced, drifting in the air around us and pulling my focus. I felt dizzy all of a sudden, unable to keep my gaze on him.

  “You need to turn it down,” he growled.

  “Or what, Grandpa?” I retorted.

  He opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t seem to find the words, searching for them somewhere but coming up short. I smirked at him and pushed the door, letting it slam closed in his face.

  I pressed my ear to the door and heard him growl and stalk away, his apartment door slamming behind him. And this was just the beginning.

  I changed my approach the following day. I mean, I say I changed my approach; I actually didn’t go to bed. There was something ab
out him that kept me awake, the thought of him over there getting annoyed at me, listening to the music through the wall. It was like I could feel him, like there was an invisible string tying the two of us together. Even when I turned the music off and tried to go to sleep I couldn’t, so I just lay there, allowing the thoughts of him to roll around in my head.

  Then I pounced.

  Picking up from where the music had left off last night, I turned it on full blast and fired up the coffee machine. The pounding on the door came almost instantly, and I checked my watch at 7:04 a.m. before I skipped across the apartment to answer it.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Slater groaned, leaning on the door frame. His face looked a little pale, heavy bags dragging his eyes down, his skin looking a sickly shade of pale. Okay so I wanted to piss him off, I didn’t want to make him sick. “It is seven in the morning!!”

  “What, so I can’t practice in the morning?” I quipped. “First you come over here and tell me I can’t play at night, now I can’t play in the morning, am I allowed to play at all or do I need your permission for every last bit of it?”

  “This isn’t what I meant!”

  “Well perhaps you need to be a little clearer,” I snapped. “I need to make a living and my music is my living. Jesus, get a clue.”

  I slammed the door and let him growl and stomp off again. I couldn’t stop myself from doing a gleeful little dance behind the door. I’d got him, I’d really got him. And there was that scent again. It hung in the air this time, like he’d spritzed a cologne into the apartment before leaving. It was heavier. It seemed to make the air soupy, like I could swim through it if I wanted to. His face sat in my mind, beautiful, rugged, a little bit tired, and I just longed to see it all over again. I wasn’t done with him, not by a long way.

  I repeated the process several times as the days passed by, late into the night and early in the mornings just to get those glimpses of him, just to see him even if it was when he was in a rage, when he was angry, anything just to be a little bit closer to him.

  I heard him come home in the early hours of the morning. I’d already been up anyway, still on some kind of high from my night at Club Rumblefish. I’d been surprised to hear him go out in the first place so late at night, but he came back so soon he obviously hadn’t lasted, wherever it was he had gone.

  I waited until I heard him get back into his apartment and I got my turntables ready to go. It would only take me a second, a little press of a button and the entire apartment would be jumping, then he’d be over here to yell at me again.

  But his door opened again, slamming quickly.

  I hurried out of my apartment and watched him disappear down the stairs, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his gaze turned downwards. He didn’t see me watching but I let my eyes follow him a little further. He was leaving? That wasn’t how this was supposed to go, not at all.

  My heart sank as I heard the front door to the apartment building close, and I found my legs carrying me to the balcony to watch him go before I could stop them. Off he went, driving his car into the distance and once again I was all alone. I’d hoped for a little more of his attention tonight. I guess I’d just have to entertain myself.

  I turned up the music and drowned out the world, trying to get the image of Slater’s face out of my head.

  5

  Slater

  My phones alarm pulled me from the best night’s sleep I’d had in nearly two weeks. I looked up to the stark white ceiling, my mind whirling, trying to figure out just where I was.

  Tate and Chasen had given me their keys last night, kindly letting me sleep in their spare room while Tate and Tavian, their newborn baby, were at the hospital. I could spring out of bed, I could dance around, I suddenly had energy that had been steadily being sapped from my body by the neighbor from hell.

  I revelled in the moment, wrapping myself back up in the duvet and taking a few more precious moments before I’d need to get on with my day, letting sleep wrap me in its warm embrace for just a minute more.

  I felt refreshed and alive, like I could finally get back to doing some work today, which was great. I hadn’t really been able to paint for the last two weeks and just the thought of listening to music had made me feel shit. Now I could get back to it.

  I could only hope that, at some point, Niko would get bored of tormenting me and just let me live my fucking life. That’s all I really wanted to happen, for everything to go back to normal. Me painting with my headphones on and whoever the fuck it is next door to just be quiet and keep themselves to themselves. Or just be a decent human being when they’re being asked if they could be a little more courteous. But whatever.

  I took a shower and gathered my things, heading back to my apartment around mid-morning. The building was quiet but for the sounds of a few people just living their normal, regular volume lives behind closed doors. Niko must have been asleep at the this point, whatever party he was having must have been long finished. I would finally be able to on with work. Thank God.

  I didn’t waste any time in setting up a canvas and pulling on my headphones, turning on George Michael because I wanted to be able to shake my booty a bit while I was painting. It infected me like it always did, bringing a smile to my face and bringing life to my idle hands, swirls of gold and pink and green across the canvas that mixed together and crossed paths. It was so therapeutic I wanted to cry out in a weird sort of ecstasy.

  Without waiting for it to dry, without waiting to see if I thought it was finished, I took it off the easel and laid it out on the floor, enticing Fishstick a little closer so he would walk in whatever paint he felt the need to and cross the canvas. His steps swirled around today, walking back and forth across the paint, like he could hear the music too and was having his own little dance to it. Who knew cats liked George Michael?

  Just as I was about to pick him up and carry him to the sink to wash off his paws, the music kicked in next door once again, louder than ever, the bass pulsing through the walls and hitting me square in the face. It must have hit Fishstick too because he darted away from the canvas and out onto the balcony, hopping over to Niko’s, leaving a trail of orange and green footprints behind him.

  Fuck.

  This was the last thing I needed. I didn’t want to have to talk to Niko right now. I didn’t want to look like some old grandpa going over there and asking him to turn his music down but I had to go and get my cat back. I couldn’t abandon him with Niko. No one deserved that!

  “He’s just a guy,” I said to myself. “He’ll be reasonable. He’ll give your cat back.” Why the fuck was I having to give myself a pep talk just to go over there and get my cat back? I was losing it. I’d truly cracked.

  I took a deep breath and left my apartment, heading down the hall to Niko’s door. The second I stepped into the hallway, the scent hit me like a wave. I could practically see it in the air around me, thick, intense, swirling around me like it was just waiting for me to come out here, like somehow I’d awakened it.

  With every step, a scent infected me more, coursing around my body like it was running through my veins, coming on a hell of a lot stronger than it had been that night at the party, more intense somehow, I was having to swim just to get through it.

  By the time I was outside of his door there was nothing else in the air but that scent, sweet, pungent, powerful, running through my veins and waking me up in ways I’d never been awoken before. My heart raced, my cock swelled in my pants, I was unable to stop it as it overtook me. Holy shit.

  I knocked.

  I knocked again, harder this time, trying to be heard over the loud music, trying to let my aggression be taken out on the door.

  It got turned down and I heard footsteps approaching. There it was. There was the scent. Behind that door was my fated mate and I knew it was going to be him. Of course it would be him.

  The door opened and Niko stood there, his hair a little scruffy from where he had clearly just got out of bed, his
eyes brightening as he saw me. Wait. Did I see that right? Did he really look a little bit pleased to see me?

  “Slater,” he said. “What are you-?” He looked down suddenly as Fishstick brushed past his bare ankles. He wasn’t wearing much of anything; just a low cut tank top and a pair of shorts. He wasn’t wearing underwear. That much I could see. Holy shit.

  “Fishstick jumped off my patio and onto yours,” I breathed. “Sorry if he got paint anywhere. He’s artistic.” I was having to force words out of my mouth, having to make myself speak because if I didn’t I probably would have been struck completely dumb by him.

  “Not a problem.” He swallowed hard. I could see the sweat forming on his brow, smell the intoxicating scent of him as it swirled in the air around us. Why did it have to be him? Of all the people in the world, why had the universe decided that we were supposed to be together? We were fated.

  Fishstick circled around my ankles desperate for me to stop ignoring him and to take him home. Apparently just a few seconds in Niko’s apartment was enough to have him come running back to me so I wasn’t about to lose my cat anytime soon. But I couldn’t take my eyes off Niko. There was an electricity between us, sparks passing in the gap that I desperately wanted to close. I wanted to be close to him, I wanted to feel his body on mine, his lips on mine, I wanted to know what it would be like to be with him, to be with my fated mate.

  He looked uncomfortable where he stood, like he wasn’t sure what was happening to his body any more than I was. We struggled to figure out what to do next. Someone needed to make a move. We couldn’t deny this anymore and neither one of us was going to feel any better until we mated. We had to do it. And I knew he knew it. And I knew he wanted to as much as I did.

  I bent down and picked up Fishstick, who happily curled up in my arms and started purring against my chest. Niko’s eyes followed me every step of the way, taking me in, watching me so very carefully.