Summary:
Single omegin Brogan Dale is jealous of the loving, stable relationships his omega friends have with their alpha mates. For years, he’s longed to find his own bondmate and create a family, but that hasn’t been in the cards. Just when he’s determined to take the first alpha who’ll provide for himself and his young son Peyton, Brogan scents him across a crowded coffee shop. Too bad his bondmate is the unstable alpha who nearly killed Brogan’s best friend last year.
Mikel Tovey is taking it one day at a time, adjusting to life on his own, away from the oppression and abuse of his cruel sire. All he wants is to complete his probation, make sure his omegin and brothers are safe, and find a way to live with all the mistakes he’s made. When he scents his omega bondmate, Mikel is initially terrified of the older omegin and his adorable toddler. But Brogan is handsome, kind, and Mikel is completely enamored of little Peyton.
With his bondmate in his sights, Brogan does everything in his power to prove Mikel can be a good alpha, a good mate, and a fantastic father to Peyton. But when Brogan’s past comes roaring into his present and puts Peyton’s future at risk, Mikel’s resolve is shaken. He wants to love and support his omega during this crisis, but he doesn’t know how. With Brogan surrounded by friends and chosen family who love him, he doesn’t need Mikel’s insecurities weighing him down, too—but Brogan has found his mate, and he isn’t letting Mikel walk away without a fight.
This time, Brogan has too much to lose…
NOTE: This is a non-shifter Omegaverse story with alpha/omega/beta dynamics, heats, knotting, and mpreg. In this world, omegas are second-class citizens with few civil rights and almost no protections under the law—although times are changing for the better. Trigger warnings for physical, emotional, and sexual abuse. This series is best read in numerical order.
Summary:
University student Demir Higgs is on the fast-track to graduate with honors and dive straight into medical school. His career plan leaves little time for dating, so after he catches his casual boyfriend cheating, Demir attends an anonymous sex party, determined to finally lose his virginity. He chooses an older alpha in a red mask and the man takes Demir apart piece by glorious piece, worshiping his body in ways Demir never imagined. Too bad he’ll never see the man again.
After his bondmate disappeared eleven years ago, Senior Constable Brandt Lars fell into his work and avoided dating, disinterested in relationships. Not until the boy in the blue mask. Introducing the young beta to the wonders of sex was Brandt’s absolute pleasure, and he can’t stop thinking about him—until Brandt comes face to face with Blue in the form of Demir Higgs, the middle son of a work colleague. Demir is equally drawn to Brandt and their chemistry is through the roof. The age difference is an issue, but their attraction is real, and stolen moments turn into a secret relationship they both enjoy…but something is still missing.
Years ago, Oliver Strand lost all his memories in a horrible car wreck that left his face scarred and his sense of smell obliterated. But he built a new life for himself and his son, and now he’s visiting Sansbury Province as a guest speaker at a territory-wide anti-sex-trafficking conference. What he does not expect to find at the conference is an alpha he doesn’t know, but who insists Oliver is his missing mate Ollie Lars, who disappeared the same week as Oliver’s accident.
Brandt is overjoyed to discover his bondmate is alive, despite Oliver having no memory of his old life in Sansbury, and he’s determined to keep both mate and son in his life. But he’s also in love with Demir and doesn’t want to lose him. Demir is ready to be the bigger person and step aside so the Lars family can be together again—until Demir realizes he and Oliver have unique chemistry of their own. And they’ve also both been claimed by the same alpha.
Can a grumpy alpha in love with two men, an omega with no memory of his mate, and a beta determined to chart his own course find a way to navigate the complicated waters of a poly relationship? Or will all three men end up stranded alone with broken hearts?
NOTE: This is a non-shifter, M/M/M Omegaverse story with alpha/omega/beta dynamics, heats, knotting, and mpreg. In this world, omegas are second-class citizens, but they are working toward gaining more civil rights and protections under the law. Series warnings for mentions of past physical, emotional, and sexual abuse. Additional warnings for extremely kinky sex, including dirty talk, light spanking, biting, edging, roughhousing, come-swapping, and threesomes. This series is best read in numerical order.
Kell Iverson Cross never imagined he’d find so much joy in his life, and he doesn’t take a single moment for granted. His tireless work championing omega rights have made him a bit of a celebrity across the territory, so when his brother Braun suggests Kell be the first omega to run for public office, Kell doesn’t say no right away. It’s a huge risk to their family, though, and Kell isn’t sure the political statement is worth it. It may be more change than the traditionalist citizens of Sansbury are ready for—especially the ones who’ve already painted a target on Kell’s back.
Demir Higgs is barely staying afloat with both university exams and the upcoming medical school entrance test. Add in spending time with his younger brothers, cultivating his relationship with his two boyfriends, and winning over a grieving ten-year-old? He’s exhausted in the best way, because Demir is happy, healthy and in love with two amazing men—men he isn’t always sure truly need him in their lives.
Brandt Lars’s greatest wish came true when his missing bondmate Oliver and their son Eriq came back into his life. Eriq is still grieving the death of his beloved uncle, and he’s standoffish with Demir. But their family is trying to come together—as well as come out to more of their friends as an alpha/omega/beta triad. But when Oliver’s traditionalist parents refuse to accept Demir and threaten to take Eriq away, Demir can’t help wondering if it’s time for him to back out of their relationship for good…
Settle in for the final full-length installment of the BREAKING FREE series, where an accidental secret, a possible surprise pregnancy, a blast from the past, and an unexpected kidnapping combine to shake up the lives of everyone Kell and Demir know and love. But they’ll survive these challenges and changes the same way they always do: as a united and loving family.
NOTE: This is a non-shifter Omegaverse story with alpha/omega/beta dynamics, heats, knotting, mpreg, and MMM pairings. In this world, omegas are second-class citizens, but they are working toward gaining more civil rights and protections under the law. Series warnings for mentions of past physical, emotional, and sexual abuse. This series is best read in numerical order.
Feel #6
One
Brogan Dale inhaled the rich, familiar aroma of coffee as he unwrapped his thick scarf inside the front door of Perks, his favorite local coffee shop. It was only the first month of winter, but the weather had been brutally cold already, and Brogan was not a fan. Fortunately, one of his beta guardians was a professional knitter, and he’d given this scarf and a pair of ear warmers to Brogan for his last birthday.
He plucked the ear warmers off and stuffed them into his coat pocket, then scanned the dozen tables in the place. Brogan didn’t see his friends yet, so he ordered his favorite tea and a sugar cookie. Mateo, the owner, chatted him up while he waited. The man was an alpha and kind to everyone who patronized his shop—except alphaholes. Mateo had no issue with tossing rude alphas out of the place, like he’d done almost ten months ago when one got in Brogan’s friend Jaysan’s face.
Speaking of Jaysan, he and his mate Morris were supposed to be meeting Brogan right now and they weren’t usually late. Brogan picked a free table to wait, and after five minutes, considered texting Jaysan to make sure he was all right.
The bell over the door dinged, and two familiar faces entered the shop. Okay, so Morris Danvers entered. Morris’s mate Jaysan sort of waddled inside. Eight months pregnant, he was kind of huge. Way bigger than Brogan remembered him being during his first pregnancy two years ago, and his OB had assured him he wasn’t having twins. Multiples were crazy-rare anyway, and Brogan had never met a pair in his lifetime.
Brogan stood so he could hug them both once they’d shed their coats and scarves. Jaysan sank into a chair with a groan. “Oh, fuck, my feet hurt,” Jaysan groused. “I’m never getting out of this chair.”
Morris gave his mate an indulgent smile. “Say that in fifteen minutes when you have to pee again.”
Jaysan blew a raspberry at Morris.
Brogan’s heart gave a jealous, unhappy lurch, as it often did when he was around his circle of mated omega friends. It had been almost two years since five of them had been rescued from a vicious fight ring. Two omegas, Jaysan and Liam, had found their bondmates and created happy lives for themselves and their children. Two others had passed away. Only Brogan was still alone.
And likely to stay that way now. Who wanted a used-up, twenty-one-year-old omega with a child by an unknown sire?
No one. And he was trying to accept it.
But sometimes he hated his friends for their happiness, and that made him a horrible friend. He should be happy for their joy.
“The usual?” Morris asked.
“New usual,” Jaysan replied. The guy preferred coffee, but ever since becoming pregnant when the pair mated back in the previous spring, he’d stuck to herbal tea. “And a slice of that coconut cake if Mateo has it.”
“Coming right up.” Morris kissed him before getting in line.
“So, up to anything new and exciting you can tell my housebound ass about?” Jaysan asked.
“You are not housebound,” Brogan retorted. “You just have an overprotective mate who’s over-thinking the birth of his first biological child, as well as a toddler to mind. Enjoy the pampering, my friend.”
“Oh, I do. I love Morris to bits and happily submit to his pampering.” Jaysan wiggled his eyebrows. “I just want to live vicariously through my friends, since the most exciting thing I did this week was get a blow job.”
That’s one more blow job than I’ve had lately.
Brogan squashed down the thought about his nonexistent love life and focused on his friend. “I haven’t been by the house in a while. How badly are you nesting?”
Jaysan snickered. “I’m not. Morris is. He keeps second-guessing the paint color in the new nursery, so I just let him fret and fuss, because eventually he comes to me for cuddling. I mean, Morris has always been an emotional guy, but you’d think the fate of the world depended on the nursery being perfect.”
“Sounds like a typical alpha to me.”
Except for the emotional part. Ever since Brogan first met Morris, he’d struck Brogan as almost beta-like in his temperament. Then again, at the time Morris had just lost his brother and brother-in-law in a fatal car accident, so he’d been grieving—and definitely not looking for a mate, but he and Jaysan had felt the bond. They’d resisted it at first, before giving in and opening their arms to love and joy.
“So come on, spill,” Jaysan said. “What have you been up to? It’s been, like, two weeks since we’ve talked.”
“All the same things, honestly. Taking care of Peyton is a full-time job, and I’ve got my support group to manage. Byron has been having a lot of panic attacks, so I’ve been spending time with him at Light House.”
“Ugh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
Light House was a brand-new, omega-only support center, run by two beta therapists for the exclusive purpose of providing abused omegas and omegins with resources. After their rescue, Brogan and his fellow fight ring omegas had begun an informal support group that met in each other’s homes, and it had grown to include traumatized beta members, as well. Not quite a year ago, Brogan had split off and created a second support group, because they’d grown so large.
Over the course of this year, because of the noise Kell Iverson Cross and his brother Braun Etting Bloom were making about omega rights, provincial funding was provided for an official support center. Light House offered psychiatric treatment, emergency placement if the omega was in immediate danger from their mate, and meeting space for the various smaller support groups to use, such as both branches of “Raising Our Voices.”
And now the people of Sansbury Province had voted to expand domestic violence laws to include not only beta couples, but also alpha/omega mates. Before last month, an alpha could beat his mate and claim domestic discipline, and the constables couldn’t step in. Now?
Straight to jail.
It was a huge win for omega rights, and he’d never seen Kell or Braun as excited as they’d been the day that bill was signed into provincial law.
“Byron’s getting there, I think,” Brogan said. “He’s only been away from his mate for a few weeks, and he’s still dealing with the miscarriage.”
Jaysan covered his own wide belly with both hands. “I can’t imagine that sort of pain. To be beaten by your mate so badly you lose your first baby. Kale went through that with his former mate, over and over.” Kale was an omega member of Jaysan’s support group.
“He’s dealing with a lot,” Brogan said of Byron, “but he’s got Light House to help him, not just a bunch of amateur, armchair therapists.”
“Do you think if we’d had Light House after our rescue, we’d have made different choices for our lives?”
Brogan cast Jaysan a pointed stare. “Like not giving up Aeron?”
All the fight ring omegas, except one, had been heavily pregnant when rescued, all from unknown sires, and Jaysan had given up his infant at birth. He’d regretted it months later, though, and the goddess had seen fit to reunite omegin and child this past spring. Jaysan had his first son back, the perfect mate, and a second baby on the way.
The perfect little life.
“That, and Reid’s death,” Jaysan said. “Maybe he’d have gotten real help and still be alive.”
“We can’t go back, though, so why wonder? I know you still feel guilty about Reid’s death, and you need to stop. It’s been a year and a half, Jaysan. Regret it if you must, but let go of the guilt.”
“I’m trying, believe me.”
Morris returned with their food, so topics switched to happier things. Jaysan told a humorous story about Aeron’s play date with their mutual friend Jax’s two boys, Karson and Jaxson. With Karson and Aeron both nudging into the terrible twos, they threw tantrums about everything.
“It’s funny watching them sometimes,” Jaysan said. “Because more and more, if Karson is having a fit, Aeron tries to comfort him. It’s like he knows deep down that as an alpha, it’s his role to comfort a distressed omega.”
“Wouldn’t it be funny if they ended up being bondmates when they grow up?” Brogan asked. “Any of our kids.” Their extended group of friends had a fairly even mix of genders among the next generation.
“Guess no one will know until they start turning sixteen and their scents change.” Jaysan groaned. “Goddess, I can’t think about Aeron being a teenager yet. Let’s change the subject.”
“Agreed,” Morris said. “On to something less depressing.”
“This cake is amazing.” Jaysan pointed his fork at the slice of vanilla cake and coconut frosting he was demolishing between words. “Best ever, in fact.”
“I’ll be sure to tell Mateo that.”
“Tell Mateo what?” the man in question asked. He’d come up behind Brogan’s chair. To Jaysan, he said, “You’re coming along quite rapidly, young Mr. Jaysan. Not long now, I suppose?”
“About five weeks,” Jaysan replied. “I can’t wait to meet this little man. They’re easier carrying in your arms than your belly.”
Mateo chuckled. “I’ll take your word for that. Aeron is well?”
“He’s amazing. Growing every day, thank you.”
Morris earned Good Alpha points by not bristling or even seeming annoyed at Mateo speaking to his mate about such a personal thing as his due date. Mateo’s scent suggested he was mated—if not now, then previously, because he’d never mentioned a mate or family in their brief interactions here at Perks.
I wonder if he’s interested in an omegin and his kid?
No, Brogan wasn’t about to throw himself at Mateo, who was at least ten, if not fifteen years his elder. Then again, Brogan’s friend Liam was very happily mated to a man twice his age—except Liam and Isa were bondmates, and Brogan had zero sense of that with Mateo.
“And you, Mr. Brogan?” Mateo asked. “How’s that rascal of yours?”
“A holy terror, but I adore him to bits,” Brogan replied. “I’ll bring him by when it’s not quite so cold out. He tends to get ear aches when it’s below zero.”
“You do that. I’d love to see him. Any luck in your search for a mate?”
“No.” Brogan tapped his stirring spoon against the side of the teacup. “I appreciate you asking, though. Peyton is still young enough that he’ll be able to adapt to a new home, new routine, new parent. My guardians are great, but I can’t stay with them forever.”
“Hold out for happiness, young man. Don’t settle unless absolutely necessary.”
The personal conversation gave Brogan the courage to ask, “Are you still mated?”
Mateo’s friendly smile slipped. “Not for many, many years. Alas, my bondmate died not long after we first mated, and I’ve never looked at another omega. He was it for me, so now I spend my days happily serving our community.” His mood went back up at the end, so Brogan didn’t feel as bad about bringing up a sore subject.
“And we’re very happy to have you,” Morris said.
“Much appreciated. You folks take care.”
Someone else was behind the service counter, so Mateo moved on to chat at another table. Brogan loved that he did that; Mateo truly did seem to care about his customers and neighbors.
“You’re not giving up on searching for a mate, are you?” Jaysan asked.
“No, just maybe changing my angle a bit,” Brogan replied. “I’ve put ads in the Omega Classifieds about an omegin looking for an alpha, but as soon as they meet me and realize who I am, they’re gone. I don’t understand why. I mean, I’m not that ugly, am I?”
“You’re adorable and you know it.”
“May I offer an alpha’s perspective?” Morris asked.
“Please do,” Brogan replied.
“It’s possible they’re put off by Peyton.” Before Brogan could bristle, Morris put up a staying hand, his expression gentle. “Not Peyton himself, but the fact that you don’t know who the sire is. In all technicalities, you’re mated to Peyton’s sire, and few alphas are willing to…how to phrase it? Erase another man’s mark, so to speak? They may not recognize your name from the ad, but your voice is quite distinctive.”
Brogan grumped. The men who’d kidnapped them and forced them to fight had paid a plastic surgeon to mutilate their vocal chords, lowering their voices to barely above a loud whisper, and everyone knew it. That man had finally been sent to prison for a minimum of fifteen years this past summer, but his victims would forever bear the mark of his greed. Their friend Jax—an omega who’d escaped the ring and helped bust it—had been left completely mute.
Morris made a lot of sense. “You mated Jaysan, who was also technically mated before.”
“I did, but we also shared the mating bond. It became impossible for us to ignore, no matter how hard we tried.” Morris leaned forward. “When you find your bondmate, you’ll understand, and he won’t care about Peyton’s sire. Just like I don’t care about Aeron’s.”
Jaysan beamed at his mate.
“I just don’t know if it’s worth waiting around and hoping to meet a bondmate,” Brogan said. “I love how happy all my friends are with their bondmates, I truly am, but I’m twenty-one, and Peyton will be two in two more months. I’ve lived with my guardians way too long. I’m thinking of advertising in the section for widowed alphas who are looking for an omegin caregiver for growing children.”
Jaysan made a face. “You’d give up your dream of finding a bondmate just for housing security?”
Brogan shrugged. “Yes? And didn’t you kind of do the same thing with Morris?”
“No. I didn’t move in with him until after we both gave into the bond.”
“He gave you a bedroom.”
Jaysan blew a raspberry at him. “Whatever. Don’t settle, please? I’d rather move you and Peyton in with us than see you prostitute yourself like that.”
Brogan frowned at his phrasing, then noticed Morris was distracted, staring across the round table to some point over Brogan’s head. Jaysan, who was sitting between them, followed his mate’s gaze and his entire body jerked to alertness. Curious who they were both staring at, Brogan twisted in his chair to look at the service counter.
At first, Brogan didn’t recognize the only man on line to order. Tall and slender, he slouched into his winter coat, but had no gloves or hat, showing off ebony skin and closely-shorn hair. The man seemed…exhausted? Haunted? Brogan wasn’t sure, but his omega instincts woke up and told him to see if the young man was okay.
A chair scraped, and Brogan’s head snapped back around. Morris had stood, and Jaysan held him by one wrist. Brogan looked at the stranger again, and this time, recognition hit him like a truck: Mikel Tovey.
Oh shit.
Before Jaysan had given in and mated with Morris, he’d been acting out, sleeping around with unmated alphas, and Mikel had been one of them. Unknown to Jaysan, Mikel and his family were being systematically abused by their sire, and Mikel had proposed to Jaysan out of desperation to get his family away from the man. When Jaysan mated Morris, Mikel became so despondent, he’d tried to kill himself—only Jaysan intervened and was accidentally stabbed.
Despite nearly dying, Jaysan had rallied for Mikel to received psychiatric treatment, rather than prison time, and after an emotional plea to the judge for leniency, Mikel received one year’s probation. Terms were three months of intense, in-patient therapy, followed by mandatory weekly sessions for another nine months after.
“Morris, don’t,” Jaysan said. His voice was too soft to carry to the counter, but the request made Morris growl. Loudly.
Every pair of eyes in the café zeroed in on their table, including Mikel’s. His eyes widened briefly, and Brogan noticed a strange…deadness in his expression. As if the alpha had no actual emotions left inside, and Brogan had to grab the edge of the table to stay seated and not go to him.
Mikel approached the table, as if completely unaware Morris looked mad enough to spit nails, and Jaysan stood with a lot of effort. Feeling awkward still sitting, Brogan did, too. A wonderful fragrance tickled Brogan’s senses. Earthy, sharp and still sweet, like tomato vine, only richer, and where on earth was it coming—Mikel.
The alpha stopped between Brogan and Jaysan. His nostrils flared several times, but his attention was wholly on Jaysan and Morris, not Brogan. Brogan studied his profile, entranced by the scent and too confused by its source to hope it was exactly what he thought it was.
“Hello, Jaysan,” Mikel said. His voice rippled down Brogan’s spine in a wonderful, nearly-arousing way.
“Hi, Mikel,” Jaysan replied. “You, ah, look…good.”
“You don’t have to be polite. It’s been a rough few months, but I’m happy to see you doing well, obviously.”
Jaysan flushed, both hands sliding up to cover his belly; Morris practically plastered himself against Jaysan’s back. “We’re very excited about the new addition.”
This close, Mikel’s scent was overwhelming, and it took all of Brogan’s self-control not to drool. Or jump the guy. But his memories of Morris so distraught as Jaysan fought to live after the stabbing…yeah, that got his libido back under control. Maybe it had been a horrible accident, but Jaysan had nearly died at this alpha’s hands. Brogan should stay away from the guy.
But. That. Scent.
“I won’t interrupt your gathering,” Mikel said.
“Too late,” Morris snarled.
“I’m Brogan,” Brogan said without planning to, but he didn’t regret it, because Mikel looked directly at him. Dark brown eyes met his, and something new and strange zinged down Brogan’s spine.
Mikel’s gaze briefly dropped, taking Brogan in, before rising again. “Mikel.” A new kind of tension bracketed his eyes. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Oh, yeah.” Brogan fought the wide grin that wanted to spread across his face, because he shouldn’t feel this happy and relieved while his best friend was distressed over the alpha’s presence.
Mine.
Mikel swallowed hard.
“Oh, hell no,” Jaysan said. “You have got to be kidding me. Really?”
“What?” Morris asked. “What did he do?”
Mikel took a full step back from the table. “I didn’t do anything.”
Maybe pregnancy hormones had gone to his head, because Jaysan poked Mikel right in the chest. “You do not get to feel the mating bond with one of my best friends.”
“The what?” Morris said with another warning growl tacked on.
“It’s not his fault,” Brogan said. “But I can smell it. I swear I’m not imagining things.” To Mikel, he asked, “You feel it, too, right?”
Mikel said nothing, only stared at him with apprehensive eyes and a flat mouth.
“Oh goddess, he feels it,” Jaysan said.
“I shouldn’t have come over here,” Mikel said. “I’m sorry for causing any distress.”
“Wait, you can’t leave.” Brogan took a step toward Mikel, who backed up, and Brogan flinched. “Am I really that repulsive to you?”
Mikel’s flat expression cracked with shock and open distress. “What? Of course not. But you don’t want me as a mate, Brogan. All I do is bring other people misery and pain. You deserve an infinitely better man than me.”
Brogan’s parents had taught him from a young age not to let his gender stop him from going after what he wanted, and he pulled on all his ingrained Dale stubbornness. Squared his shoulders and put his hands on his hips. He was shorter than Mikel by several inches, but Brogan had developed good muscle tone in the fight ring that he’d maintained since his rescue. “I’ve been waiting to feel the bond with an alpha since I was sixteen,” he said. “You can at least afford me a conversation and let me decide what I deserve.”
“You can’t be serious,” Morris said. “He almost killed Jaysan.”
“By accident,” Jaysan added. “You know I don’t hold a grudge against Mikel for that.” He flashed a guilty look at Brogan.
“You don’t hold a grudge,” Brogan said, “but you don’t trust him.” And for the first time, Brogan became painfully aware of how many people were subtly watching this little daytime drama unfold. Suddenly, his whole life felt like an episode of Beta University, a serial Jaysan had turned him onto a few months ago. “Will you please join us, so we can talk without such an obvious audience?”
“I can’t,” Mikel said, “and I promise that’s not an excuse. I was getting something to go on my way to an appointment. Congratulations on the new arrival, Jaysan.”
Before Brogan could protest, Mikel fled the coffee shop, taking that wonderful, earthy scent with him. Brogan stared at the café door, his heart squeezing tight with distress, until Jaysan clutched his hand.
“I’m sorry,” Jaysan said.
“Why? You didn’t do anything.” Brogan flopped back into his chair, slouched and unhappy. The one thing he’d wanted most for the last five years had just walked out the door without a backward glance, and Brogan pinched the bridge of his nose to stop a flood of angry tears. “It’s just more of my shitty luck, that’s all.”
“You’re better off,” Morris snarled.
Jaysan smacked his shoulder. “This is not the time. Brogan finally scented a bondmate, and the man turned him down flat. Do you know how devastating that is for an omega?”
“Oh.” Morris frowned. “I’m sorry, Brogan, that was insensitive.”
Brogan grumped and crossed his arms. “You have every right to hate Mikel, but this really hurts. All I want is a conversation with the man and he ran away like his ass was on fire.”
Jaysan reached over to squeeze his wrist. “Maybe he really did have someplace to be and couldn’t stay.”
“What’s more important to an alpha than his bondmate?”
“Thoughts on that one, alpha?” Jaysan said to Morris in a gentle, teasing tone. Morris was still visibly annoyed at having encountered Mikel, so Jaysan was being mindful of his mate’s feelings, while still defending Brogan.
“His remaining family, perhaps,” Morris replied after a moment’s silence. “Jaysan and Morgan weren’t in my life at the same time, but I know I’d have dropped almost anything if Morgan needed me.”
“And unless I was in immediate danger, I’d have encouraged you to go to him. You’re kind of a public figure, Brogan. Mikel can find you again.”
“Do we want to encourage that?”
“Yes, we do. Even if Mikel turns him down again, Brogan deserves a conversation with him about the bond. He’s been holding out for it for years, Morris, and it just walked away from him.”
Morris finally seemed to understand how big of a deal this was for Brogan, because he turned on a sympathetic smile. “I’m really sorry for what I said. I wasn’t being sensitive to your feelings.”
“Thank you,” Brogan said, even though he didn’t feel any better. “I get why you dislike Mikel, but I have to talk to him. If it turns out he’s a horrid person, it’ll cement my decision to stop hoping for an actual bondmate and just find an alpha who will take me in as a day carer.” Brogan was jealous of every omega who lucked into a kind bondmate, and he longed for his own, but he’d rather forgo the mating bond than give himself and his son to a cruel mate.
Jaysan looked as if he wanted to burst into tears on Brogan’s behalf, and Brogan nearly hugged his friend for it. Then Jaysan said, “It’s not super-weird that Mikel and I used to fuck around, is it?”
Brogan hadn’t given their previous personal relationship any real thought until Jaysan blurted it out. “A little, maybe, but it’s been months, and maybe that’s part of the reason he fled so fast? Maybe the idea of bonding to his ex-lover’s best friend unnerved him.”
Or made him feel sick, and he’ll think of Jaysan every time he’s with me, and won’t that make for an awkward relationship?
His life well and truly sucked today.
“Whatever it is, I’m going home,” Brogan said. “Take care of him for me, Morris, okay?”
“I promise.” Morris kissed Jaysan’s temple.
Brogan hugged his friends where they sat, then shrugged into his coat and began winding his scarf around his neck on the walk to the café door. Mateo waved from behind the counter, so he waved back. As much as Brogan liked spending time with his friends, his emotions were scattered and bruised, and the only thing guaranteed to make him feel better was a big hug from his son.
Peyton was his pride and joy, and today’s encounter proved Brogan needed to stop pining for a bondmate and do what was best for his boy: find a decent mate and finally create a future for them both.
But that scent…
Claimed #7
Prologue
Ollie turned bright eyes onto Brandt Lars, his smile so wide it could light the heavens, and it definitely lit the hospital waiting room. “It’s our turn, I know it,” Ollie said to his bondmate. “I can feel it, Bebe.” His pale hand covered his flat lower belly. “He’s in there. Our little man.”
After almost six years of trying to get pregnant, heat after heat, Brandt was not leaving this moment up to a cheap plastic stick and a home test. No sir. He and Ollie had made an appointment in Obstetrics for a proper test after Ollie’s home test came up positive, and Brandt wasn’t very happy they’d been shunted to a new doctor on staff. Someone named Nero Troi, and yes, Brandt had checked up on the beta man’s record. Only three years out of medical school.
But Ollie was practically vibrating with excitement in his chair as they waited for their appointment. They’d grown up as neighbors and been best friends, which was unusual for young alphas and omegas, but their parents had been close. Brandt had loved watching Ollie grow from a slightly gawky, blond teenager into a beautiful man with sun-kissed hair and a smile that always lit up the room.
“Yes, he is.” Brandt kissed Ollie’s cheek simply because he could, then slid a possessive arm across Ollie’s shoulders—both a reaction to the new couple who’d entered the waiting room and his own need to touch his mate. He’d never tire of touching him. Despite them being only a few months apart in age and feeling the mating bond at sixteen, Ollie’s parents had refused any formal mating agreement for years. Brandt was one of only two children to a mated pair, and Ollie’s parents had feared infertility would run in the family. They also weren’t happy that Brandt planned on joining the Constabulary Academy directly out of secondary school.
Usually the academy required at least two years at university, but Brandt had always been an excellent student, testing ahead of his peers, and he’d aced the entrance exam at only seventeen. And Ollie had waited for him. He also didn’t have his first heat until he was twenty, which was rare, but not worrisome to Brandt. Brandt didn’t care if they had one child or ten, as long as he had them with Ollie.
Still…six years.
Please, let this not be a false positive. Please.
“Brandt and Oliver Lars?” a deep voice said. Kit, the office assistant, beckoned to them with a patient smile.
They followed Kit down a corridor to an exam room, where Ollie was given a paper gown to change into. A few minutes later, the doctor entered. Dr. Troi was a short, average-looking man, but he had an air of peace about him that helped Brandt relax. A little. All doctors who worked in obstetrics were beta, so he wasn’t a threat, but Brandt hated the idea of another man, even a doctor, looking at his mate’s intimate places.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Dr. Troi said after introductions went around. “I hope you don’t mind the change in your caregiver. Dr. Sorenson had to step back for personal reasons, and for the last two years I’ve worked with couples experiencing fertility problems.”
Brandt resisted the urge to posture and bristle and say they didn’t have fertility problems. But they did. Six years and a lot of knots later, and they were finally—he hoped—pregnant.
“I don’t mind,” Ollie replied. “Unless you don’t have good news. Then I can’t be held responsible for my mate’s actions.”
Dr. Troi smiled. “Well, I do have the results back on your urine sample, and you are, indeed, pregnant. Congratulations.”
Ollie squealed and threw himself off the exam table, right into Brandt’s waiting arms. He hugged Ollie tight, but not too tight, tears of absolute joy making his eyes smart. “We did it,” Ollie said. “We finally did it, my love.”
Brandt laughed and kissed his temple. “Yeah, we did.”
“I need to caution you,” Dr. Troi said, “that a first pregnancy at your age brings health risks. Not only for yourself, Mr. Oliver, but also for the baby.”
“Ollie, please, only my parents call me Oliver anymore.” Ollie cinched his arms around Brandt’s waist and rested his head on his shoulder. “What sort of risks?”
“There’s a much higher chance of miscarriage, so you’ll need to take extra precautions. We can go over all of that in a moment.”
“And the baby?” Brandt asked. He slid one hand down to rest over Ollie’s belly, determined to protect this new life with every bone in his body.
“There could be developmental delays. Your first heat occurred when you were twenty, correct?”
“Yeah, about twenty and a half,” Ollie said. “My family doctor didn’t think that was something to be concerned about.”
“Normally, it isn’t, but you’ve gone through roughly two dozen heats since without conceiving. In your chart, there’s no mention of a fertility test.”
“No,” Brandt said, a bit testy now. “Fertility tests aren’t covered by the province and I can’t afford the expense on my current salary.” Given the fact that without omegas and their unique ability to conceive and carry children, every test and drug available for obstetrics and pregnancy should be available through the general public health care, but it wasn’t. So many things beyond basic health care for a pregnant omega were priced above the average person’s salary.
What if I really am the reason we couldn’t get pregnant for so long?
Unless a lot of credit landed in Brandt’s lap, he’d probably never know.
“An understandable, if frustrating problem,” Dr. Troi replied. “Mr. Ollie, how about you hop up and we do a quick exam?”
Ollie kissed Brandt’s cheek before climbing onto the table. Brandt held his hand, mostly to keep his need to growl at Dr. Troi in check, while the doctor poked at his mate’s private bits. After a few minutes, Dr. Troi declared everything looked good. A quick check of Ollie’s latest blood work proved him healthy and ready to carry a child.
“Now we just need to get through the next nine months,” Brandt said. “And we can finally start decorating the nursery.”
“Shopping!” Ollie laughed. To Dr. Troi he said, “Brandt hates shopping. Really, truly hates it.”
Dr. Troi chuckled. “I’m not fond of it myself. On a medical note, I’d like to see you every couple of weeks, just to keep an eye on your progress. You can make your next appointment with my assistant Kit before you leave.”
“Of course. Thank you so much, Dr. Troi.”
“You are very welcome.”
After the doctor excused himself, Ollie tugged Brandt’s head down and kissed him. A hard, possessive kiss that left his alpha gasping for air and a little hard. “When we get home,” Ollie said, “I want you to fuck my throat.”
Brandt growled possessively. For all Ollie had been a quiet, timid teenager, the first time they’d fucked at seventeen? Ollie had a dirty streak as long as the province itself, and he adored sex outside of heat. So much that they had quite the collection of sex toys in their bedroom drawer, and while they’d have to be careful with what they put up Ollie’s ass for the next nine months, Brandt couldn’t think of a better reason why.
“Should I tie you up first?” Brandt whispered, then licked the shell of Ollie’s ear.
“Goddess, yes. Please.”
As much as Brandt wanted to whisk his mate home and shove his cock down Ollie’s throat, he was too excited and eager to pamper the man. So they had an early dinner at Petrova’s, their favorite place to eat, splurging on more food than they could possibly consume and a few too many margaritas—virgin for his omega. He bought Ollie’s favorite chocolates from a sweets shop down the block, delicious little squares of dark chocolate and mint that he fed to Ollie with his own mouth after they got home.
Once they were both full of good food and chocolates, they worshipped each other’s body. Brandt didn’t leave an inch of Ollie’s skin untouched, unlicked, unloved. He worshipped Ollie’s entrance for ages, then sucked his balls. His dick. He made sweet love to his mate, until Ollie cried for him to be rougher, to give him what he wanted.
So Brandt tied Ollie spread-eagle on the bed, exactly how Ollie loved it, and then took his time fucking Ollie’s mouth. Teasing, only giving Ollie a taste, before pushing in deep enough to choke. It was his sweet, beautiful Ollie’s favorite game, and they played until Brandt couldn’t hold it in any longer. He pumped his load down Ollie’s throat before sliding down his mate’s body to suck him dry.
Happy and sated, Brandt untied his omega and cuddled him close. Ollie combed deft fingers through his chest hair, then licked the damp skin of his pecs. “Careful,” Brandt teased. “You might find yourself with a mouthful of cock again, if you keep licking me like that.”
Ollie sucked on his nipple, and a few minutes later, hard and leaking for his bondmate, Brandt took his revenge.
The next three weeks passed in a kind of blur for Brandt. Between working as a patrolman, studying for his constable exam, and helping Ollie with the nursery, he barely had time to eat or sleep. And that was okay. This was the life he’d always wanted with Ollie.
Ollie picked out paint colors, and Brandt came home one day to find the nursery a lovely shade of green. They shopped for the crib and changing table together, as well as toys, diapers and bottles. Everything was arranged exactly how Ollie wanted it, and Brandt loved watching him nest. He also went to bed each night with a prayer in his heart that both his mate and baby would be okay.
Ollie’s second appointment with Dr. Troi approached far too quickly, and it coincided with a flu outbreak at work, giving Brandt no time off to go with him.
“I’ll be fine,” Ollie said that morning as they shared pancakes for breakfast. “I’ll drop you off at division, and then go to the appointment at nine. It’s a routine checkup.”
Brandt didn’t like it, but Ollie was right. He’d allowed his mate to get a driver’s license years ago, even though Ollie rarely drove alone. Their house wasn’t in the best neighborhood, but it was home and Ollie loved being there, waiting for his bondmate to return to him.
“Okay,” Brandt said. “But you call me as soon as it’s over. Have dispatch patch you through to my car radio.”
“I will, you overprotective nut.”
Brandt blew him a kiss.
They left the house ten minutes later, and Brandt kissed Ollie thoroughly before getting out of the car. He hated watching his mate drive away, but they’d see each other again at the end of his shift.
A shift that passed slowly, despite them being shorthanded. Not much was happening across Sansbury Province today, and as the morning eased closer to lunch with no word from Ollie, Brandt began to wonder. He didn’t worry until after one o’clock and nothing. Then he called the hospital and asked to be directed to Dr. Troi’s office.
“Mr. Ollie didn’t show up for his nine o’clock appointment,” Kit said.
Brandt’s blood ran cold. “He had to have shown. He dropped me off at work and then went straight there.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but he never signed in. Are you sure he didn’t have an appointment in another department?”
Yes, Brandt was damned well good and sure Ollie didn’t have an appointment anywhere else today. He made several calls but no one had seen Ollie. The house phone went unanswered. As panic set in, Brandt called his supervisor, who gave him permission to leave and look for Ollie.
But Ollie wasn’t home and neither was their car.
Hours passed into days. Days into weeks. Weeks into months. The house became chilly and dark. The nursery lay empty and barren. And as months morphed into years, bitterness replaced joy. Grief replaced love.
And Ollie Lars never came home.
Loved #8
One
Oliver Strand sipped his ginger ale and silently prayed to the goddess that he wouldn’t vomit before he had this inevitable talk with his son Eriq. Oliver’s beta boyfriend, Demir Higgs, watched Oliver from his spot on a living room armchair, a constant and quiet support system while they waited for Brandt Lars to return with Eriq. All the bliss of Oliver’s recently completed heat had fled under the anxiety of knowing this conversation could no longer be avoided.
But how was Oliver supposed to tell ten-year-old Eriq that his uncle was dead, much less that he’d killed himself?
“Are you sure you want me here for this?” Demir asked and not for the first time. He was still getting used to his role as the beta boyfriend to an older, mated alpha/omega pair, and Oliver adored the twenty-year-old university student to bits for his careful, generous heart. “I mean, it really is between you, Brandt, and Eriq.”
“Yes, I want you here for this.” Oliver kissed the top of Demir’s head. “I love you, and I need you here. Just like I needed you here for my heat these past few days.” Oliver hadn’t been entirely sure Brandt’s alpha instincts would allow Demir to stay, much less be involved in the sex they’d had during Oliver’s heat, but Brandt had welcomed Demir into their bed multiple times, even allowing Demir to share both Oliver’s first and final surge.
It had been the single best heat experience of Oliver’s new life. The life of this past eleven years, before his memory was stolen away by a freak car accident.
No, Oliver didn’t want to think about the far-past right now; he had to focus on the present. A present in which Eriq was still trying to wrap his young brain around the fact that, two weeks ago, he’d been moved to Sansbury from his home province mid-school semester, his beloved Uncle Diego hadn’t been able to come with them, and his biological parents had a beta boyfriend.
Eriq was polite to Demir, but he didn’t actively engage with Demir the way he did with his sire Brandt, and Demir never seemed offended by it. Eriq was adjusting to a hell of a lot in a short period of time—not only the move, but up until a few months ago, Eriq and Oliver hadn’t known who Brandt was, much less that he was Eriq’s sire and Oliver’s bondmate. Long lost sire and bondmate.
They were all giving Eriq the time and space he needed to adjust. And Oliver’s heat had been horrible timing, in terms of telling Eriq the truth about Diego, and now they couldn’t put it off anymore.
A familiar car engine rumbled into the short driveway, and Oliver’s gut ached with fear and grief. He’d only had about a day to grieve Diego before the heat hit, and then nothing mattered except sex and fucking and pheromones, and a day wasn’t nearly enough. Diego Strand had been his best friend for years, and he and Eriq had adored each other. Diego had stepped in as a father figure when Oliver’s former mate Oskar—Diego’s older brother—was killed two years ago.
His gut twisted even tighter as he remembered the real reason Oskar had died that day, and he nearly bolted for the bathroom. He didn’t have a chance, because the front door burst open and Eriq barreled into the room.
“Daddy!” Eriq flung himself at Oliver with a huge grin. Oliver squatted to hug him, so happy to have his boy home where he belonged. Eriq was old enough to understand what a heat was and why he needed to stay at a friend’s house for the duration, but they always missed each other when they were apart.
Oliver clung to his son, hating that very soon Eriq’s joyful smile would turn to ash and tears. “Hey, baby boy, I missed you.”
“Me too, but I had a ton of fun at Demir’s house. Plus, Linus and Layne had a playdate with Branson and the twins, and Mr. Kell taught me how to make oatmeal cookies like he promised.”
“That’s terrific. You’ll have to make some for us one day.”
For the duration of the heat, Eriq had pretty much switched places with Demir, staying in his bedroom at the Higgs’ house, where Demir stilled lived with his sire, stepdad, and two little brothers. Kell and Ronin Cross were an omega/alpha couple and friends of theirs who had an almost-seven-year-old named Branson, plus a pair of four-year-old twins Eriq enjoyed playing with.
“Can I make them today?” Eriq asked.
I doubt he’ll want to make cookies once we’ve talked.
Brandt’s large form filled the open front doorway, and he met Oliver’s gaze with a serious expression of his own. His simple presence in their home calmed some of Oliver’s racing nerves, and in Brandt’s ice-blue eyes all Oliver saw was love, support, and patience. He shut the door and went to sit on one end of the living room’s red sofa.
“Maybe later,” Oliver replied. “I don’t think we have oatmeal in the house. But first, your dad and I need to talk to you about something important.”
Eriq eyeballed Demir. “Is it about him? Is he moving in now?”
“No, baby, it’s not about Demir.” Demir spent most of his free time here, even if he was planted at the kitchen table studying for exams, but they hadn’t sat down and discussed him moving into the small house. It seemed far too soon for that, as they’d only been a committed triad for a month. “Come sit.”
Oliver took Eriq’s hand and had him sit on the couch between Brandt and himself. Eriq’s now-serious expression hurt Oliver’s heart, and he remembered how hard Eriq had grieved Oskar’s death. Oskar had been the only father Eriq had ever known, despite not being his biological sire.
“We need to tell you something that is going to make you sad,” Brandt said, his deep, rumbling voice as soothing as he could make it. “But it’s the truth, and it’s important to always tell the truth, isn’t it?”
Eriq nodded solemnly. “Yes. Did I do something wrong?”
“Nope, not a thing, chief. Diego did something wrong. Something very, very wrong.”
“That’s why he didn’t come to Sansbury with us?” Eriq looked at Oliver. “What did he do?”
Oliver swallowed hard, his mouth too dry, his lungs too empty of air. “Do you remember the day I pulled you out of school and we got on a train to come here? Do you remember I had a bruise on my face?”
“Yes. You said you fell.”
“I did fall. I fell because Diego hit me.”
“He did not.” Eriq launched off the couch, marched across the room to stand by the TV set and crossed his arms. “He’d never hit you. He loves us both.”
Acid splashed the back of Oliver’s throat. “Yes, he did love us both. But baby, he loved me too much. He was mad at me for wanting us to come live here with Brandt, and when he said he loved me, he meant he loved me the way Oskar loved me. The way Brandt and Demir love me. Not the way a brother should love his brother.”
Eriq’s face scrunched up with anger and confusion. “Why would Uncle Diego love you like that, though? That’s dumb.”
“I don’t know why he fell in love with me like that, I honestly don’t. But that day, when I said I didn’t love the same way, he got really mad and he hit me. I made him leave the house, but I was so scared of him that I packed us up and brought you here where I knew we’d be safe.”
Oliver had also, with encouragement from both his lovers and their friends, reported what Diego had done to the Rainier Constabulary. Diego had been arrested, booked, and released on bail. He’d lost his job at a patrolman. And then…
“It’s why you haven’t been able to talk to Diego on the phone since you’ve been here,” Brandt added. “He got into trouble for hitting your daddy.”
Eriq glared at Brandt. “You’re both making this up, so I’ll hate Uncle Diego and want to live here for good.”
“I would never lie about such a thing,” Oliver said, his tone firmer, not appreciating the back-talk. “You know me better than that. We always tell the truth in our home, no matter what house we live in, right?”
“Yeah. But will I ever get to see him again?”
Grief simmered hotly in Oliver’s chest. “No, baby, you can’t ever see him again, and not just because he hurt me. You see, I…he…” He cast helplessly at Brandt, unable to admit this and break his boy’s heart.
“You remember when we told you everything Constable Bloom uncovered about how Oliver was abducted from here and taken to Rainier?” Brandt asked. “And the people who died in the car accident that stole Oliver’s memories?”
Eriq squinted at Brandt. “Yeah, they were bad people.”
“Yes, they were very bad people. And unfortunately, even though Diego loved you very much, he was also a bad person. He did something really, really bad that hurt both you and your daddy.”
“When he hit Daddy?”
“Then too, but this was before. He committed a crime, but no one knew until a few days ago, and your daddy and I both think you’re old enough and mature enough to handle the truth.”
Eriq took a single step closer, then froze, as if remembering he was angry at them for telling stories about his beloved uncle. “What did he do? He never hurt me. He never even yelled at me.”
Oliver’s eyes burned with unshed tears, and he scooted closer to Brandt, needing the warmth and weight of Brandt’s arm around his shoulders. “He was in love with your daddy, while your daddy was still mated to Oskar,” Brandt continued. “And he got so jealous of Oskar that Diego paid another very bad man to shoot Oskar. Chief, Oskar wasn’t killed by accident. It was on purpose.”
“No way. No, you’re lying!” Eriq bolted down the short hallway, and an instant later, his bedroom door slammed shut.
Oliver closed his eyes as his own tears spilled. Brandt pulled him into his arms and a firm hug. Seconds later, Demir hugged him from behind, surrounding Oliver with their love and warmth while Oliver cried for his son’s turmoil. Part of him hadn’t wanted Eriq to know that truth, but he hadn’t wanted to risk Eriq finding out later from some other source. He wanted Eriq to know his parents would always be honest with him, so he’d grow up knowing he could come to them with any problem he might have in the future. Any difficulty or decision. That they’d face everything as a family.
“He still doesn’t know the worst part,” Brandt whispered, his own voice a bit wrecked. An alpha reacting to his omega’s grief.
“He probably can’t imagine it could get worse,” Demir said. “I feel so awful for him.”
A door banged open, and Oliver turned his head, surprised to see Eriq stalking toward them, his face bright red but tear-free. “Why are you lying about Uncle Diego?” he demanded. “Why? Maybe he was mean and he hit you, but don’t lie about Dad. You told me he was killed by a stray bullet while helping people.”
“That’s what I was told, too,” Oliver choked out, unable to get a proper breath to speak. “It’s what all the reports said. Diego changed the reports so no one would know the truth.”
“Stop lying!” Eriq stomped his feet, his own developing alpha instincts digging in and refusing to accept this horrible truth. “I want to call him. I want him to tell me you’re making all this shit up because you’re mad at him.”
Oliver didn’t have the strength to reprimand him for cussing, and Brandt didn’t do it, either. It really wasn’t important right now. He summoned up the last of his willpower and cleared his throat hard. “You can’t call Diego. I wish you could, but you can’t.”
“Why not?”
Grief suffocated Oliver again, and he couldn’t get the rest out.
Brandt disentangled himself from their group huddle and knelt in front of Eriq, putting his son at his level. “I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you as soon as we found out, but we weren’t expecting your daddy’s heat when it happened, so we had to wait.” Eriq simply glared at him, so Brandt continued. “Three days ago, we got a call from Constable Thomas at the Rainier Constabulary. Diego wrote a letter explaining how he arranged for Oskar to be killed and that he changed the files. He admitted to doing it, and then…I’m so sorry, Eriq, but Diego killed himself.”
Eriq punched Brandt in the chest. It wasn’t much of a punch, because the boy was kind of small for ten, and Brandt didn’t move an inch, but the action spoke to how much this was hurting Eriq. “No, he didn’t.”
“I love you so much, chief. I would never say something untrue that might hurt you, and I know this hurts. I’d rather lay down in traffic than ever hurt you, but you deserve the truth from us always.”
“He wouldn’t leave me like that. He wouldn’t.” But grief was edging out Eriq’s anger, and his face started to crumple. “He wouldn’t.”
“He did,” Oliver said. “He left us both.”
With a sharp cry, Eriq launched himself into Oliver’s arms, and Oliver held on tight as Eriq sobbed against his chest. Oliver wanted to be bigger, stronger, able to hold Eriq tight and protect him from this horrible grief. To undo all of it and go back to before, when Diego was a friend and uncle, and not a murderous criminal. But undoing it was impossible, and even if he could, Oliver would lose this precious life he’d built in Sansbury—not only with Demir and Brandt, but with the other mated couples and their kids, all of whom he considered friends.
Oliver couldn’t change what had happened. All he could do was be here for his son and anything Eriq needed from him, now and going forward. In two years, Eriq had lost his first father, and now he’d lost his uncle. So much loss for someone so young. Oliver hoped some of that loss would be tempered by meeting his grandparents in a few more days and in discovering more family he never knew he had.
Unlikely, but Oliver had to hope. Hope had gotten him to where he was today, which was alive and safe. For the first twenty-six years of his life, Oliver had lived in Sansbury, had loved Brandt, and had mated the man. Been Brandt’s mate for six years, until he was kidnapped on his way to an OB appointment. A few days later, he’d lost his memory, his face and his sense of smell in a horrible wreck that killed five others. Oliver probably should have died, too, but he’d fought to live for the six-week-old baby growing inside him.
He’d fought and lived, and then he’d found Oskar. A gentle alpha who’d loved them both for nine years, until he was gone. Hope had gotten their little family through that loss, and hope would get them through Diego’s death. They’d work through it together, because they loved each other.
They were family.
This alternate reality series is set in a non-shifter Omegaverse world that includes heats, knotting and mpreg. If this isn't your thing, simply back on out to another page...or maybe give the series and chance. You might change your mind.
There's a spin-off series named Finding Free.
Saturday Series Spotlight
A.M. Arthur was born and raised in the same kind of small town that she likes to write about, a stone's throw from both beach resorts and generational farmland. She's been creating stories in her head since she was a child and scribbling them down nearly as long, in a losing battle to make the fictional voices stop. She credits an early fascination with male friendships (bromance hadn't been coined yet back then) with her later discovery of and subsequent love affair with m/m romance stories. A.M. Arthur's work is available from Carina Press, SMP Swerve, and Briggs-King Books.
When not exorcising the voices in her head, she toils away in a retail job that tests her patience and gives her lots of story fodder. She can also be found in her kitchen, pretending she's an amateur chef and trying to not poison herself or others with her cuisine experiments.
Loved #8
Breaking Free Series
Finding Free Series
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