It was the first he'd spoken so frankly of his feelings. I didn't know what to do with myself. I wanted to kiss him, reward him somehow, for being so brave and so bold. Most alphas spent their lives in the shadow of emotion, always hiding it under some overblown rage or trying to be tough. Here, in our home, Graham was opening up tender, sensitive leaves to his sweet, inner beauty.
I knew my mate was still in there. I knew it.
"You have another event coming up," I said. It wasn't a question.
"It's a television interview, actually," Graham answered. "Mindy Pippet is working on a program between some of the most influential young alphas of our time and invited me along."
"Are you going to hold the camera?" I asked, sweetly.
"Ouch," Graham smiled. "You got me. I'm dead. My heart is bleeding out everywhere. I hope they taught you how to mop."
I snorted. "They never taught you. They never taught you how to aim, either. I should install a tree."
"I'm marking my territory, thank you very much," Graham said with a grin. "I suggest you don't hold any sticks or hide near any bushes. Who knows what I might do to you."
"Ew!" I yelped. "Oh come on!"
Graham laughed and squeezed me closer. I pretended to fight away, gagging, as if he smelled like wet dog. Instead, he rubbed his chin all over the top of my head, more lion than wolf.
"I'll come if you promise never to make a joke about that again," I promised.
"On-air? With WTV? Your friends at Rise might see you. They might be pissed," Graham pointed out.
"They don't own me any more than you do, Graham," I said. "And I've been a poor husband. The last time you had that event, I had to run away."
"That was because the shrimp smelled sour."
"It was that, and my nerves. I'd never been around so many people in my life. You were in your element, and me? I wanted to go find a hole to den up in for the next six weeks," I replied. "But I want something out of you, too."
"Can I take a wild guess what it is?" Graham asked.
"I'm serious," I answered. "It's something important. And it's as much for you as it is for me. You might have Jenard in your ear all the time, telling you all these things you are and aren't. I know who you are, Graham. And I know what you are. And I know you'd never let our sons end up in some omega camp like Talewah."
Graham drew away and stood up. He began to pace the room, rubbing the end of his nose with his right index finger. I sat up, watching him and waiting. It would do no good to push him into a decision. He had to decide if my heart and my comfort were more important than anything else.
"You know there's nothing I can do if the police come for them," Graham started. "If they're reported or if someone scents them, it's over. There's nothing either of us can do, and they'll be taken to a state omega pen because we didn't plan ahead. They'll be treated like livestock, if not worse. God, Parker, sometimes they hold auctions for the pack alphas. How do you think Jenard's gotten so many mates these days? He just goes and buys a new toy when he gets bored."
"I know what we're risking," I said. "But we have so many years to try to influence something better than what we have today. We have so much time, and you've got so much power. You have all the pull that Jenard has, you just don't use it like he does."
I paused and frowned. "Kind of glad for that last part, now that I think of it. I don't think I'd want to share you with anyone."
Graham waved the thought away. "You never will. I've loved you for so long, I can't remember a time when I didn't. But all of that is beside the point. What if life doesn't change? What if we still have to put away our omegas for their own good?"
"Do you want to imagine me in my forties, trapped in our home because the world is too 'rough and tumble' for an omega to go out by himself regularly?" I asked.
Graham added lip-chewing to his repertoire as he walked a hole in our floor.
"There's so much that could go wrong," Graham said. "You're certain you won't at least consider putting a down payment on their omega camp positions now? We could always withdraw it later when things begin to change. If they begin to change."
I gave him a steady, less-than-amused look.
"It's just preparing for the future, Parker."
"It's preparing for their imprisonment."
"Their legal imprisonment!"
And the room went silent. Graham stopped mid-step and looked at me. "That's what it is. That's what you keep saying."
"That's what we all keep saying, love," I answered.
Graham came over to me, knelt before my feet and took his hands in mine. He met his gaze with my own and drew a breath.
"Our boys are never going to camp."
13
Graham
WTV, the creatively named Wolf Television, was a busy studio that left me wanting a good run outside. I'd preferred somewhere with plentiful deer and maybe a stream or two. And, of course, Parker right by my side.
Yet here he was, shrinking against me from the chaos of the studio. I had to keep reminding myself that he'd been shuttered away for so long, he was overwhelmed easily. Even after months of leaving Talewah, he found himself in these situations. The only way to solve it was to expose him to it, force him to face his fears. I took him by the wrist, held him close, and led him through the hallways until we found our greenroom.
He made a beeline for the bathroom, locked the door, and proceeded to make the awful sounds he made every morning--or when I'd taken him into a situation that was just too much for him. I opened the door, stepped inside, and held his hair back while he brought up the Taco Bell breakfast we'd snagged on the way in.
"I can't imagine Fire sauce tastes good coming up," I told him.
"Don't talk to me about anything sauce or heat right now," Parker whimpered.
I waited for a moment. How many times had I done this for him now? It was always better if he got everything up at once.
"You know you’ll feel better if you just give in and let it finish happening," I said.
And Parker rounded on another series of horrible wretching noises that left him empty in every way. I stood, grabbed him a glass of water, and offered it to him.
"All better?" I asked.
"You put a baby in me, now the baby kicks everything out," he panted.
He rinsed his mouth out, spit it into the toilet, and flushed. His face was grey, his eyes teary. He smelled like bile and tension. I kissed his forehead and helped him out to the couch. There, I laid a cool, wet paper towel over his forehead and across his neck. Parker moaned and, wetly, slapped the one on his neck closer to his skin.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice trembling.
"You rest here," I told him. "By the time they're ready for your part of the interview, you'll be all better, love. And if you aren't, we can go straight home and let you rest. Is that alright?"
"Mmnmm," Parker answered, but he was already well on his way to dreamland.
I smoothed the front of my suit, glanced in the mirror, then headed out to do battle with one of WTV's strongest journalists. Mindy was a well-known alpha, one that had supported Rise since the get-go. She did everything but raise money on-air for them. I ignored the beckoning of a make-up girl. Alphas didn't care if their foreheads were shiny on-screen or not.
"You realize you're going to look like some sort of beacon if you don't let the girls at you?" Mindy asked.
Her blonde hair was perfectly put together, all along with the rest of her. She smiled at me, a gesture that was as false as the walls of the stage around us. I returned it the same way. The last I'd heard, her omega husband had been found cheating on her with a beta male. I wondered if she'd gotten over it, yet.
"It's a pleasure to be here," I said. "But I think I'll fend your girls off. I like a natural, healthy glow."
"One minute!" someone called out.
Mindy seemed to be intent on ignoring me until the cameras came on. I settled into the chair across from her as a stagehand removed the cha
ir to my right.
"Is your omega tied up doing the ironing at home?" Mindy snapped.
"He's pregnant," I shrugged. "He got sick when we arrived. He'll be alright for the second set."
"Congratulations," she gritted.
"Thank you," I said, crossing one leg over the other at the knee.
The lights flashed, then came up all the brighter. A jingle played over my head and I was glad I'd let Parker get some more rest. If the studio had been too much for him, this would have set off another round of vomiting. I'd have to ask them to turn down the light show when he came out.
Surprisingly, the interview went off without a hitch. I returned to our green room to find my omega sipping ginger tea, compliments of the studio. How kind of them.
"You feeling any better?" I asked.
"It's hard not to, with you in the room," Parker said.
"If you aren't up for going out there, I'll call Scott. He'll take you home, make sure you're tucked in and comfortable before he leaves. And I'll be in soon. The rest of this filming won't take long. She's being pretty relaxed," I said.
"No, no," Parker answered. "I want to do the whole supporting-you thing. I just need a few minutes to compose myself. And I never want to see a bacon cheese sausage whatever-it-was ever again."
"I could bring you a donut?" I suggested.
Parker gave me a look of utter loathing and knocked back to the rest of his tea. "Donuts are third or fourth on the list of things I don't want to think about right now."
I kissed his temple and helped him to his feet. The idea of Parker standing beside me, finally, publicly, was almost too much to bear. An alpha was only as good as the omega who backed him. Like so many sitcoms from the 1950s, where the man made the money but it was the wife who was the backbone of the family. Without Lucy, Ricky would have been lost.
"You're sure?" I asked, even as we walked down the hallway toward the stage.
"I know it's a little unlike me," Parker said. "But I'm positive this time."
I kissed his temple again, grateful that he was trying to joke around. I didn't know if I would have been the same in his position. As far as he was concerned, a lot more rode on this than just a quick interview. If Rise thought he was a spy, they'd probably never speak to him again.
Settled in his chair, Parker turned green when the lights flashed. Damn, I'd forgotten to warn them about how ill he was. Parker swallowed sickly, shook his head, and listened to the cheerful jingle as we all "came back from break". These things were always filmed so tight--once I'd been on a stage where we hadn't so much as moved. The journalist had told the camera we were going to break, counted to five, and told it we were back.
Television had always struck me in an odd spot.
"It's so strange to find an omega who supports something like Roll Over," Mindy started. "Will your alpha let you answer questions?"
Parker blinked. "Of course he does. Graham's not like other alphas. He's-"
"He's one of the most standard alphas I've ever seen," Mindy smirked at the camera.
"He's wonderful to me," Parker said in a small voice.
I held his hand and heard the camera zoom in on it. For effect, I gave it a little squeeze. Try to spin that the wrong way, Mindy.
"You would think that, you poor thing. Did you come from Talewah? Let's talk about that."
My mate spent the next hour of his life outwitting the alpha bitch, and we returned to the room in silence.
The second the door closed, I grabbed Parker and pressed him against the door. I didn't dare kiss him, all things considered, but I sunk my teeth into his neck and ground my hips against his own. He made a strangled noise that set my blood on fire. I was going to fuck a hole into the top of his head if I couldn't rip his clothes off fast enough. Thankfully, that was what they made claws for.
I hoped I'd be able to find something to fit him in the wardrobe after this.
"Graham, this room isn't soundproof," Parker gasped, his fingers no match for my own.
His shirt, in tatters, soared across the room. "Like I give a single fuck."
Eloquence was not my strong suit. I picked him up, carried him over to a chair and sat him on my lap. There, I shucked him of the rest of what ailed me and bit him again. This time, it was a nipple that suffered my ire. He bucked against my groin, sending a bolt of pleasure through my spine. Had I locked the door? Who cared?
I hadn't bothered to wear underwear of any nature to this event. The moment I unzipped, I felt the warmth of his body slide across my precum slick cock. Nose crinkled, my inner wolf ready to ravish my mate, I jerked upward and forward. I'd always gone gentle on him, but this? He deserved this for a performance well played.
My nails sank into his hips. I bounced him, loving the slapping of my thighs hitting his ass. For Parker's part, he flailed at my shoulders and tried to keep from making too much noise. I assumed the last thing he wanted was someone to rip open the door and make sure Graham Nell's omega was alright. Worst came to worst, we had an audience.
Let them watch.
I drove into him with every breath, coming off the chair and dropping him, balls deep, onto my shaft. Parker hooked his legs through the arm rests of the chair and used his fading grip on me to try to plow himself closer, desperate to knot. I wrapped my forearm around his back, grabbed his cock with my free hand and pumped him for all I was worth. Parker took care of the rest.
My knot grew rigid, swelling against the heaviness in my sac. I sank my teeth into his shoulder and yanked him down, forcing the tie and shuddering as it gave way to an orgasm that rippled throughout my nerves. Everything was too sensitive for one, perfect moment as I tried to impregnate my already-pregnant mate.
Parker made a noise that sent lightning through me, then proceeded to ruin my shirt.
I went through more clothes with that wolf.
As he came down from his own orgasm, I unhooked my teeth and nuzzled his clavicle. Parker had his chin atop my head, panting, his hands limp on my shoulders.
"I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo--"
I made my way up to his lips and kissed them, taking the chance. Then I touched his nose tip to mine and sighed, happily. "I love you, too."
"You saved me, you know," Parker said.
"From those alphas?" I asked.
"In the park. All that time ago,"
"That's what I'm here to do, love," I told him.
Parker fell silent, but he seemed to be thinking about something. Between the stress of losing his breakfast and the wild sex we'd just had, I didn't want to press him. Besides, we'd be here for the next while until my knot softened enough to let him go. Maybe that was the best part of werewolf sex. After a coupling, nobody just got up and left. I didn't know how it worked in female alphas, but I assumed they had something relevant to their gender. For us? I got to hold Parker until I had to let him go.
I relished in the fact that it wouldn’t be any time soon. My lips found his neck again. If they needed to reshoot any part of our tiny interview, they could wait until we had finished with round two.
"Promise me you'll always be there if I need you," Parker whispered.
This vulnerability was new. I looked up at him to find he had tears in his eyes. My poor, sweet omega.
"I promise."
14
Parker
How were there so many different types of socks for babies? There were never this many when I was a kid, I was sure of it. Or maybe, my parents just hadn't wasted money on an omega kid. I snorted at the thought. I'd been spoiled rotten when I was younger. I was certain most kids thought that, but I really had. I'd even had a pony for a period until my legs had gotten too long and I'd outgrown him.
Alone for the day, Graham's lunch packed off with him that morning, I watched trashy daytime talk shows in the background while I loaded up on way too much stuff for the twins. Graham's bank account had always been an overflowing river. When we'd been younger, I had suspected his parents were
into drugs. Instead, they'd been brokers for a bank. Though they hadn't been happy about their alpha boy hanging out with an omega, his parents had done what they could for me.
It was too bad they'd died a couple of years after my internment at Talewah.
Did babies need little blue bunny rabbit slippers? I frowned. It seemed like every time I thought I knew something about becoming a parent, another question popped into my head. Babies needed hats to keep their heads warm when they weren't in their fur. Half of my books talked about how much warmth pups could potentially lose without a hat. I had fifteen in the cart already. I hoped it would be enough.
I had considered trying to knit my sons their own clothing, but when Graham saw me tangled in yarn one day when he got home, he laughed himself sick. And that was more than enough to tell me that I was in over my head. Fetch! had free one-day shipping in most cities around the country. Better yet, the hats would probably fit.
As I tried to check out, the tablet froze. I sighed and poked the home button until it gave in, re-opened the browser and watched as an ad off to the side started to play.
"My name is Graham Nell, CEO of Roll Over," announced a familiar voice.
I stared at the miniature version of my mate, my head tilting to one side. I understood how this worked, but I hadn't really paid any attention to any of the other ads I'd run across. It was strange seeing Graham on my computer's screen, all dressed up and talking to me as if he didn't know me. I leaned back on the couch to listen. An advertisement for Roll Over, these days, couldn't be anything worse than what I'd had to listen to so far.
"And this is my vice president, Jenard Tober. He's head of research and development for the Roll Over Therapeutic division."
"Hello, alphas," Jenard said, in a slimy way that made me growl. "Do you ever find yourself at odds with your mate? Maybe you've had a disagreement, or maybe your mate is withholding your birthright from you because he wants a fancy new collar."
Furbitten Falls Alpha's: A Wolf Shifter Mpreg Romance Bundle Page 44