Page 26 of Broken Bonds

We extended our stay by three days because once his heat broke, he spent the next thirty-six hours sleeping and needed another full day of rest and rehydration to fully regain his wits.

The second time Shawn hit a mating heat with me, I borrowed a fucking machine and goat milker from Todd, and it took nearly four days before Shawn’s mating heat finally broke.

That was when I set up the trusted group. Now when Shawn’s in a mating heat, they rarely last more than thirty-six hours, and I’m secure in the knowledge that my friends will keep him safe while I go about the business of running the pack. Most of the Alphas whose partners experience mating heats have made similar arrangements. When mating heats hit an unmated omega in our pack, they have a pre-designated buddy to coordinate the response, as well as a no-go list, in case there’s a chance that person’s species might get the omega pregnant.

Then the phone tree starts and someone usually moves the omega over to Todd’s, where the fun really begins. That’s one reason our initiation system works so well, because omegas already have an idea of who to ask to help out.

So far, the system has worked with no oopsies. There are a couple of omegas, like Wallace, where they’re the only one of their kind in the pack, and no one else is a similar enough species to worry about any issues. He’s a giraffe shifter. Lucky for him he’s down to fuck anyone anywhere, because he seems to go through eight to ten mating heats a year, where the average male omega usually only has four or six, if that, depending on their species.

Shawn’s not in a mating heat right now, but it’s close to full moon and he rides me to exhaustion this time of the month, meaning I’m definitely not turning down Todd’s help wearing him out.

“Go strip,” Todd tells Shawn, and he jumps up to do it. Todd flashes me a grin and pulls his shirt off. “Alpha gonna make me spread for the privilege tonight?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” I start unbuttoning my shirt. “Depends on how well you make him scream around my cock.”

Todd’s grin widens. “Then I guess I’ll just have to put a cock strap on him to keep him hard longer, won’t I?”

Shawn, in the middle of trying to pull his jeans off, nearly falls over when he hears that. He’s almost past the point of coherent speech.

In some ways I envy my mate. He can drop-kick his brain out the door and totally stay in the moment with his body. Before he joined our pack, there were nights I’d go over to one of the omega houses. Even while I enjoyed their attentions I envied how they could totally shut out the rest of the world in lieu of what their bodies demanded.

It’s beautiful, you know? Some assholes look down on omega males because of that, even ones born to omega dads, but I never have. My sire drilled into me from a young age that everyone has worth and is worthy of respect unless their actions and character dictate otherwise. That omegas are born the way they are the same way we were born Alphas, and never let anyone degrade an omega simply because they’re being true to themselves.

Unless, obviously, that particular omega has a degradation kink and consents to that kind of treatment.

Pops taught me omegas are some of the strongest shifters out there, no matter what people think, especially male omegas. Because, damn, they bring new life into the world. They’re the nurturers of our packs, the ones who keep us grounded and humble, and just because they’re omegas doesn’t mean they can’t viciously fight to protect the ones they love.

Hell, when I was a kid I once watched Dad take down an asshole Alpha who tried to start trouble while Pops was away on pack business. Dad knocked him clean out with one punch before anyone else could react. When the guy came to he was surrounded by several enraged Alphas, and even more enraged pack members who weren’t Alphas, who literally handed him his balls while Dad quickly hustled me out of there and took me home.

I’ll never forget the night I met Shawn. I was 30 and he was 55. When Shawn stepped out of Davis’ truck the scent hit me almost immediately. I ran over, grabbed him by the throat, and licked his cheek as I inhaled. His knees unhinged and he eagerly attacked my fly with trembling hands before I remembered we were being watched by Pops, Dad, and Davis.

My father looked amused. “Mate bond, son?”

“Yes,” I’d growled. I felt Shawn doing his best to tip his head back to show me his throat even as I had a grip on it.

“Then hands off him and let him answer,” Pops ordered, his Alpha tone brooking zero resistance. In times like that, I always addressed him as Father. Pops was for in private, or at home.

Reluctantly, I peeled my fingers off Shawn and stepped back while Shawn clung to me.

Then Father told Shawn what he’d have to do and asked Shawn if he wanted to join the pack. Shawn pledged his allegiance, asked to be my mate, and then I fucked a load down his throat. When I hardened again almost immediately, I shredded his clothes off him and mounted and fucked him right there on his hands and knees in the grass, biting him and putting my mark on him.

Because Father knew it’d be damned near impossible to make me and Shawn wait, he called an emergency gathering of Alphas to hold Shawn’s initiation that night. To Shawn’s credit, knowing I was the pack Alpha’s son and next in line to be pack Alpha, he volunteered to go through a full initiation even though he was offered an exception because of our mate bond.

Father expedited the timeline. I didn’t even have time to process how I felt about him and Dad taking their turns with him, because then the twelve Alphas who were immediately available started taking their turns. Following that, I ordered Shawn to shift, as did I, and I knotted him for the first time. The next few days were a whirlwind of fucking and orgasms until we were finally able to collapse for several days and get to know each other.

And then the wedding.

I don’t regret a single second of our lives together, except that we didn’t meet sooner. He’s the perfect man for me. While I worried I might have jealousy issues, a talk with Father helped me frame it.

“If he enjoyed bowling,” Father said, “would you begrudge him joining a bowling league? Going to do it without you?”

I hate bowling almost as much as I hate golf and Father knows this. “No, of course not.”

“Would you begrudge him spending time with new bowlers and teaching them?”

“No.” I sensed he was trying to get to the point quickly before my balls got the better of me and he lost my attention when I sought Shawn to empty them.

“Would you begrudge him spending time with more experienced bowlers to teach him?”