Omega House Books 6-10: Alpha Omega MPreg Romance Box Set Read online

  It will be ours.

  Our home.

  "If you want to, of course." Zach’s eyes shift between mine and I can see a flash of insecurity in them. "I know it's got some issues still but—"

  "Yes, of course I want to!" I throw my arms around his neck. "I want that more than anything else in the world."

  When I woke up this morning, I didn't think my life could get any better.

  I was wrong.

  12

  Zachary

  The house is so quiet when Seth is gone. I hate it.

  I've gotten so used to having him around that it’s hard to function without him. It's only been a week since I asked him to move in, but it's been over a month since we first slept together. Somehow, it feels so much longer than that. I feel like I've known him my whole life. When he's away from me, I find myself counting the hours until I see him again.

  I’m like a puppy forced to wait at home while his beloved owner is away at work.

  The feeling has gotten easier to deal with the longer we've been together. It's like something inside me is growing more content with our life and less concerned that Seth will come to his senses and walk out on me. I couldn’t live without him. I don't know what I’d do if something ever forced us apart.

  I muddle my way through my daily routine. I've picked up a few new clients over the last few weeks, and if everything goes according to plan, I'll have enough money for a down payment on a ring. I found one I think Seth will love, especially since I went behind his back and got Sean's help in picking it out. I've never really done anything like that before. Sneaking around and forming clandestine plots to surprise someone. I never understood the reasoning behind it before.

  Now I do.

  I can't wait to see the look on Seth's face when I ask him to marry me. I'm sure it'll be a moment I remember for the rest of my life.

  I'm just about to go get something to drink from the kitchen when there's a knock at the front door. That sound still makes my heart jump, and I always flinch like an idiot. I want to hang a sign on the front door telling everyone to go away, but Seth won't let me. He says he doesn't want the neighbors to think we're a couple of crazies. Personally, I’m completely okay with people thinking I'm crazy, especially if that means they stay the hell away from me.

  But I’ve deferred to Seth's better judgment.

  After all, he's the one who has to chat with the neighbors while getting the mail or bringing in the paper. I can just lurk behind the curtains and hide in the shadows from everyone who isn't my beloved.

  Unfortunately, Seth isn't here to save me from this wretched situation, so I have to answer the door myself.

  I've never regretted anything more.

  "Hey there, sweetheart, are you going to let your darling mother freeze to death on your porch or what?" She hasn't changed a bit. Everything from her too-orange tan and the bouffant ponytail, to the makeup that's far too heavy and her favorite fuchsia track suit are all exactly as they were on the day I left home with no intention of ever looking back.

  She gives me a shove so she can step into the house, MY house where I've made my home with my omega. A flare of vengeance and anger hits me as I clutch the door and refuse to move aside so she can enter.

  "So, that's how it's going to be, huh?" It's more of a statement than a question. Her friendly expression drops away like a mask that's been cast aside, and her penciled in eyebrows draw together in a frown that I'm all too familiar with. "You wouldn't have anything if it weren't for me. Decades of blood, sweat, and tears were poured into making sure you had a roof over your head, clothes on your back, and food in your belly. After all that, this is how you repay me? By taking my mother's house and abandoning me?"

  I fight the urge to slam the door in her face. I know it's probably the most prudent response, but I also know my mother. She's likely to just stand on the front porch, pounding on the door for the rest of the afternoon. And I really don't want her here when Seth comes home. If I have my way, he'll never have to meet this gargoyle from my past.

  "Grandma left me this house. A house that you tried to steal from me, by the way." I do my best to keep calm, but just being around her brings up so many memories. The sound of her voice tears open old scars from years of torment and manipulation at her hands. It took me a long time to come to terms with the fact that my mother doesn't love anyone other than herself. It took me even longer to realize I didn't owe her a damn thing. Even then, it was still years before I got up the courage to strike out on my own and sever ties with her.

  "I was doing you a favor," she says as she stabs her finger toward me. "This place is haunted as all get out. Your grandma died right there." She gestured to the living room. "They said her heart just stopped and she dropped dead right on the floor. If it weren't for the book club meeting she had the next day, it probably would've been over a week before anyone found her. Still, she died in this house and she never left."

  "I already know all that." If that's all my mother has, then she's seriously losing her touch. I looked up the news articles, the obituary, and the police report about my grandma's death before I moved in. I even shared it all with Seth one evening when he asked about her. "The house isn't haunted. It just had some bad wiring and a few other things I’ve already taken care of. Besides, if it is haunted, Grandma always looked after me. I'd rather live in a house with her ghost than have anything to do with you."

  "Right, well…" My mother shakes her head and purses her lips as she digs into the gaudy bag hanging from her shoulder. "I've been talking to a lawyer, and he says I can contest the will. I'm her daughter. Her closest living relative. By all rights, this house should've been mine. Old Victorian's like this go for a pretty penny. Especially ones in this neighborhood. Slap a coat of paint on it, and it'll almost double in value." She holds out a piece of paper with an official looking letterhead.

  I don't take it from her. Whatever it is, I don't want it. I'm a little nervous about her claim that she can contest the will, however. The thought of losing the house now that Seth and I are so happy here makes my blood run cold.

  She glares at me and shoves the paper back in her purse. "Basically, you have three options. Option A: You and I work together to fix up the house and sell it. You say you've put some work into it already, fair enough. In light of that, you can take half of the final sale price of the house."

  I make no move to respond, wondering if my mother hears how ridiculous she sounds.

  "Option B." She holds up two fingers. "I get my lawyer to submit the paperwork, and we take you to court. My lawyer seems confident that we can get the judge to rule favorably for us. Once the will is overturned, I'll get the house and you'll get nothing." She seems to take a little too much pleasure in explaining that option to me.

  I have to admit, I'm getting really nervous now that I hear how evil she truly is. I’ve always assumed a will was absolute. If someone leaves you something in a will, there's no way that can be challenged, can it? I don't fully understand the details, and I'm beginning to question my knowledge on the subject.

  "Option C." My mother lays a manicured hand on the doorknob and leans forward to look me in the eye. "This is something I've decided to offer you because you're my son, and no matter what else you've done, I still love you."

  "Just get to the point already, will you?" I snap at her. She's irritating me, getting under my skin and giving me a rash. I don't want her here anymore. I want her to go back to wherever she came from and leave me alone. I want to rewind to this morning when I woke up to Seth bringing me coffee in bed and kissing my forehead gently.

  "Fine, fine," she says, stepping back and putting her hands on her hips. "I don't like the idea of waiting around for a house to sell and the court process could take months. I'm much more fond of cash in hand, up front. I know you loved your grandma, though god only knows why, so I'm willing to let you stay here. All I need from you is rent money."

  "You've got to be kidding me." My glare
deepens. What is this? Bribery? Extortion? Black mail? I don't know the exact terminology, but I know she's basically asking me to pay her to not try to take my grandma's house away from me. As angry as I am by the implication, I feel a familiar sense of hopelessness begin to close in on me. She owns me. She's got her claws into me and has backed me into a corner where I don't have any other choice but to give her what she wants.

  It's like I'm a kid all over again, but instead of hiding her nefarious schemes behind candy and lies, she's letting it all hang out in the open.

  The strength leaves my bones and my shoulders droop in defeat. It's pointless to try to fight her on this. The only fight I ever won was when I claimed my grandma's house for myself. Now even that doesn't seem like much of a victory anymore.

  "How much?" I hear myself say. I feel so numb inside that I can barely hear her reply.

  She digs out another piece of paper from her purse. There's a number scribbled on it. She's making some wild claims about the math she's done and that this is a perfectly accurate and fair number.

  All I know is that looking at it makes me feel sick to my stomach.

  Thousands of dollars each month, just to make my mother go away and leave my home in one piece.

  I want to vomit as I agree to send her the first payment before the end of the month. She adopts a cheery smile and tells me that if it's late, she won't hesitate to launch into Option B without so much as a warning.

  On that ominous note, she turns and tromps away with her head held high.

  I close the door behind her and lock it for good measure.

  I think I've just sold my soul to the devil himself.

  13

  Seth

  I bounce up the front porch steps with an anticipatory spring in my step. My heart is pounding and my cheeks are already flushed as thoughts of past sexual escapades rush through my brain. I'm ready and eager to embrace my alpha and show him the depth of my appreciation for him.

  So, I'm definitely not prepared for the scene that greets me when I walk through the front door.

  Zach is sitting on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression on his face. Empty packages of snack food and beer cans litter the living room floor. It looks as if he's eaten everything in the cupboards and drunk himself into a stupor. He barely even registers my presence as I close the door.

  I've never seen him like this before.

  The whole time we've been together, he's never had a drop of alcohol. I'm more of a social drinker, and since he wasn't having anything, neither was I. The case of beer in the fridge had been a "welcome to the neighborhood" gift from one of the neighbors a few days after Zach first moved in. From the looks of things, I'm pretty sure he's managed to get most of the way through it all by himself.

  "Zach?" I approach him tentatively, unsure if he even realizes I’m home. My immediate concern is potential alcohol poisoning. He's so far over the limit that I actually catch myself watching his chest to make sure he's still breathing.

  "Hey…" His voice is barely above a whisper. "Welcome back. Glad you could make it." The sarcasm in his tone is not at all characteristic of the alpha I've come to know.

  "What happened? It looks like you had a party or something…" I gingerly nudge a couple of beer cans out of the way as I kneel beside where he's draped himself on the couch cushions.

  "Yeah, a party. Woohoo, we're having a party." He rolls his eyes and presses the palm of his hand to his forehead.

  "If it's not a party, then can you at least tell me what's going on?" I'm so confused right now. My alpha is clearly in some sort of distress. It's like there's an actual rain cloud hovering over him right at this second, but I can't see it and I don't know how to stop it from drenching him in misery.

  "I don't want to talk about it." He sits up slowly and looks around the room with bleary eyes.

  I lean back on my heels and frown at him. I can't help him if he won't cooperate with me. This whole time we've been together, we've never gotten into a fight. We've never really disagreed on anything either. This is the first time I've felt my temper flare toward him, and it breaks my heart a little bit. My first instinct is to suppress it. I don't want to be angry at Zach, and I know that whatever's affecting him has to be bad for him to be acting like this.

  I take a second look at him and try again.

  "Come on then," I say as I climb to my feet. "Let's get you in the shower. You smell like you doused yourself in beer and Cheetos."

  "I don't feel like taking a shower right now." He knocks my hand away as I reach out to help him up. "Please, Seth, just…just leave me alone. Let me wallow. I don't need your help right now."

  "Screw that," I snap so suddenly that he looks up at me with surprise. "You want to sit around feeling sorry for yourself, fine. But at least tell me why you're behaving like a child. I deserve an explanation for why you ate everything in the house and got yourself into this state."

  "I didn't eat everything…"

  "Right, just the snacks." I roll my eyes. "That's not the point though. We're supposed to be a team here. At the very least, just tell me what's going on."

  "I already said I don't want to talk about it. Why can't that be enough?" Zach looks up at me with anger in his eyes.

  Part of me wants to back off and give him the space he’s asking for, but the rest of me is getting more frustrated with him by the second.

  "Is this the way it's always going to be?" I ask. "Whenever something upsets you, are you just gonna shut me out and try to deal with it on your own?"

  "Maybe," he replies without missing a beat. "I've always handled stuff on my own. I've never needed your help before now. In fact, you're a new arrival to the shit-show that is my life. So, don't presume to tell me what I should be doing or how I should be handling things." He unsteadily climbs to his feet, glaring at me as he does.

  "So, what? Is everything you've said up until now just lies then?" My chest is tight, and my eyes burn as I say those words. I feel like my life is on a razor's edge and one wrong word is going to send everything tumbling off into oblivion.

  My question seems to give him pause, and his eyes meet mine.

  The room is immediately plunged into darkness.

  I gasp as I shove my hand in my pocket in search of my cell phone. Before I can flip the flashlight on, the overhead light flickers back to life.

  Zach's expression is tentative, and his gaze shifts around the room uncomfortably.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as the temperature in the room begins to drop. The change is so immediate that, for a moment, I wonder if I’ve left the front door open.

  Zach grabs my hand, and a moment later, the lights go out once more.

  This time, I get the distinct impression there's something lurking in the darkness. I can't tell what it is, but I know it's there. That realization alone is enough to make me cling to Zach as if my life depends on it.

  His arm circles around me, and in that moment, I know he would lay down his life to protect me, despite our argument. Whatever's going on with him, whatever plunged him into this depression, is messing with his head. But deep down, I know he meant everything he's told me over these last few weeks. I also know that he'll tell me what's bothering him when he's ready.

  A moment passes, and the lights return to normal.

  We stand there just holding tightly to one another for several long minutes, waiting to be thrown into darkness once more.

  "Did you feel that?" I ask timidly. The presence I sensed in the dark is gone now, but the very thought of it sends chills down my spine. "I wasn't imagining it, was I?"

  "Pack a bag," Zach says as he slowly, reluctantly, releases me from his grip. "I'll grab a few things down here. We'll get a hotel room."

  As I head toward the stairs, I realize that he didn't answer my question.

  14

  Zachary

  It takes a couple phone calls to find an electrician who will come out first thing in the
morning. When I finally find someone, he’s from a completely different company than the one who came out last time. I'm really hoping this guy finds something that the last one missed. I definitely don’t want another repeat of last night.

  As the electrician goes about his inspection, Seth busies himself in the kitchen. He's thrown himself into cleaning up the mess I made after my mother's impromptu arrival. I really shouldn't have taken it out on him. He didn't deserve to come home and find me in that state. The fact is, I was just trying to escape. I'd hoped that a couple beers and some comfort food would lessen the effect that my mother's visit had on me. Unfortunately, the moment she knocked on my door was like a weapon of mass destruction going off in my front yard.

  Even trying to talk about it makes my blood boil and my throat tighten. I have no idea how I'm going to have that conversation with Seth without devolving into a quivering mass of raw emotion.

  I approach the kitchen tentatively and clear my throat as I stand in the doorway. Seth glances over his shoulder at me as he continues to wash dishes in the sink. He doesn't say a word, but nods to the clean dishes in the drying rack.

  We didn't do much talking after going to the hotel last night. Seth allowed me to stew in silence, merely curling himself around me like a security blanket. I was grateful for his comforting presence and glad I didn't have to process all my thoughts completely alone. Despite his willingness to offer me support, it’s obvious he’s still a bit hurt by the fact that I haven’t told him what was bothering me.

  I take a deep breath as I grab a clean towel and begin drying the dishes after Seth washes them.