The Alpha’s Claim: MM Omega Mpreg Romance

By Max Rose

One battle-scarred alpha will risk his heart, life, and home to save his omega and their unborn child.

Danny Holloway is an omega wolf living life on the run. Never putting down roots. Never knowing true love. And certainly never finding a mate—a silly shifter myth. He's fled to the Alaskan wilderness, keeping a low profile as a small-town bartender and hiding from an abusive pack. But when Danny is viciously attacked, he draws exactly the wrong kind of attention: that of Marcus Connor, a huge, mean-looking alpha shifter as strong as he is scarred, who comes to Danny's rescue and saves his life. Danny's wolf howls that Marcus is his mate, and when Marcus gives him the most intense night of lovemaking of his life, Danny's tempted to believe it. But they both have demons, and Danny can't stick around for a myth. Not even after Marcus bites him and marks him as his.

Haunted by his failure to protect his pack, Marcus lives in the wilds of Alaska with only his dog Ginger. Out here, he can let his wolf roam free without giving a damn—about anything or anyone. But when he sees the omega being attacked, his protective alpha instinct takes over. And it doesn't stop until Marcus claims Danny as his mate. What would a scarred-up loner like Marcus want with a mate, let alone an omega? Omegas have a tendency to give you cubs—another thing Marcus doesn't need. But denying Danny is proving easier said than done. And the old saying is starting to prove true: once bitten, once branded, once his.

Reader note: contains mpreg gay shifter romance, mated wolf shifters, protective alphas and omega romance, and male male love

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wolf Hill Publishing
• Release date: Aug 3, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201845605

Book preview

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Cover

Table of Contents

Look for these titles from Max Rose

Title Page

Copyright Warning

Dedication

Part I

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Part II

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Epilogue

About the Author

Also by Max Rose

More Romance

LOOK FOR THESE TITLES BY MAX ROSE

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Stealing the Wolf King’s Heart

The Wolf King Needs an Heir

Omega Rescue

Chasing His Omega

The Omega’s Heir

To Love an Omega

Reclaiming His Omega

The Alpha’s Claim

The New Detroit Wolves Series

Giving the Alpha an Heir (Book One)

The Lone Wolf’s Omega (Book Two)

The Alpha Heir (Book Three)

Coming Soon (Book Four)

THE ALPHA’S CLAIM

M/M OMEGA MPREG ROMANCE

MAX ROSE

Copyright Warning

EBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/).

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Published By

Etopia Press

1643 Warwick Ave., #124

Warwick, RI 02889

https://etopiapressblog.wordpress.com

THE ALPHA’S CLAIM

Copyright © 2022 by Max Rose

ISBN: 978-1-949719-81-9

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First Etopia Press electronic publication: May 2022

DEDICATION

I’m so proud of you, C.M.

PART I

The Alpha

CHAPTER ONE

MARCUS

Marcus Connor lifted the wood ax high overhead. The ax blade cut through the air with a whisper as he swung it. The blade slammed into the piece of wood he had standing upright on the old tree stump he used as a chopping block. With a resounding crack, the blade sheared through the length of wood. Two pieces toppled to the side of the stump, thudding on the ground. He picked the pieces up and neatly placed them on the stack.

Then Marcus grabbed another piece of wood and did it all over again. After years of practice, he chopped wood with the power and precision of a machine.

Ginger, his Irish Setter, watched him from a safe distance. She had her head resting on her paws. When he glanced at her, she lifted her head and wagged her tail hopefully, then nudged her favorite ball with her nose.

He smiled at her. We’ll play ball when I finish this, pretty girl.

With a doggie sigh, Ginger accepted his promise and rested her head on her paws again. She was used to this routine. She knew her wolf-human chopped trees into smaller and smaller pieces, just like she knew those pieces helped stave off the worst of an Alaskan winter. But if she could get in a game of fetch too, everybody won.

Already, the Alaskan days were growing shorter, losing the long daylight of the summer. He had plenty of firewood for the winter, but the exercise shut the demons up nicely.

Marcus balanced another piece of wood on the chopping block. He raised the ax, looking directly at the spot he wanted to hit, the spot in the wood grain perfect for splitting the wood in two with a single blow. He brought the ax down again. A hissing whoosh filled the air, followed by the crack of shearing wood echoing off the tall trees around the travel trailer where he lived.

He wiped sweat from his face with the back of his scarred forearm. The Alaskan air was cool but not cold, but as a wolf shifter, his body ran hot. He rarely wore a shirt when working—there was no one around to gape at the deep scars ravaging his torso or the burn scars—and that meant he was as deeply tanned as a California surfer. Lucky for him, the clouds of mosquitoes didn’t like the taste of his wolf shifter blood.

Marcus picked up the two pieces of wood and examined them. He grunted at the nice clean cut. He chopped firewood because he needed the damn wood for his stove, but he felt a flash of triumph each time the ax blade hit precisely where he wanted and perfectly split apart a hunk of wood. There was something very Zen about it. It kept him in shape, and what the hell else was he going to do out in the middle of the Alaskan wilds?

But best of all, he didn’t have to think when he was cutting wood. No memories. No bad dreams. No cursing himself for things done wrong. Only a man, an ax, a good dog, and a desire for firewood.

A wolf howled in the distance. Marcus paused, both man and the alpha wolf inside his head listening to the wolf song. The sound sent a chill through his body and he shivered, but not because of anything close to fear. The sound was beautiful, melancholy, and made him feel like he’d just been punched in the center of his chest with a deep aching need. Ginger lifted her head, her ears twitching and her eyes curious.

Marcus’s isolated caravan trailer was east of the town of Stanlow, near the Talkeetna Mountains, and at the edge of a wolf pack’s territory. Those were normal wolves, not shifters like him—not brothers, but cousins.

His wolf cousins respected his territory. He’d felt like a damn fool pissing on trees to mark the borders of his territory, but what were you gonna do? He was an alpha wolf, no matter how much that part of him might seem lost and forgotten these days. Wolves marked territory, so he marked territory.

Besides, he didn’t want visitors. Ginger was his dog and family, but everyone else could fall into a glacier chasm for all he cared.

Another wolf howled. Again, the rise and fall of the haunting wolf song seemed to reach right into his chest and squeeze his heart.

Marcus resisted the urge to shift into his gray wolf and join the song. It was not an easy instinct to keep in check. His wolf instincts were powerful, and they’d only grown more powerful since he’d retreated to the Alaskan wilds. Out here, it was easier to forget the niceties of civilization. Out here, the call of the wild was a thunderclap.

The far-off wolf pack ended their howls and moved on. He listened to the silence for a while, then went for more wood to chop, feeling oddly lonely. When was the last time that had happened?

He didn’t have much interaction with humans these days and none with shifters. Once every three weeks, he took his beat-up old Chevy truck into town and bought supplies. Stanlow was a one-stoplight place, with no less than two hundred and four souls within town limits. And it was still too big for him.

That was how he liked it. Isolation. Quiet. Solitude.

He was dangerous to others. This was for the best.

Marcus chopped a few more pieces of wood. A breeze kicked up across the clearing where he had his truck and travel trailer and chilled the sweat on his bare torso. It felt damn good and brought a smile to his ugly mug, a face only a dog could love. It was September in Alaska, and the temperature was in the 50s. Sure, it could get down to 37 or 40 degrees Fahrenheit at night, but this time of year, the daylight hours were almost normal. Twelve or so hours of daylight, a big difference from the five or six hours of daylight in December, when it was very dark for very long.

Those dark months were cold; better believe your ass about that.

After stacking the last of the wood, he tied down the tarps over the piles and cleaned off the ax blade. He took the wood ax with him toward his trailer, resting the haft on his shoulder.

Time for a beer and a shower. Then he’d heat up some kind of dinner and watch one of his movies. No internet out here in the mountains for cable TV or online anything. For entertainment, he mostly bought cheap DVDs at those big box stores in Wasilla or Anchorage whenever he felt like heading deep into human territory. He’d seen a lot of crappy movies these last few years. Some of his favorite crappy movies were bad werewolf films. Humans got everything wrong, but they did it with such enthusiasm. It amused him.

Another distant wolf howl surprised him. He’d thought the pack had moved on deeper into the forest.

To hell with it. He threw back his head and howled. A human throat couldn’t replicate a wolf howl perfectly, but he wasn’t bad. A handful of his wolf cousins howled back to him. It brought a smile to his face.

Feeling a little better, he headed for his camper trailer. It had been a good enough day. Nothing bad had happened. Nothing much had happened, actually. But that was how he liked it. His days as alpha for a Santa Fe pack were long behind him—a dark and distant dream more than a memory. That time seemed like a thousand years ago.

He set the ax against the side of the caravan and opened the door. As soon as he swung it open, Ginger bounded inside, her tail wagging. Marcus put his weight on the metal step to follow her.

A scream echoed from the trees. Marcus froze, the hairs on his neck standing up. He turned and stared off into the trees, in the direction of the scream, his heart pounding faster and adrenaline in his veins.

His human ears weren’t nearly as good as his wolf ears, but even in man form, a wolf shifter had better hearing than a regular human. That scream had not been particularly close, but it still echoed through the trees and off the mountain slopes. His place was miles from anywhere. He didn’t even have a mailbox. So what the hell was going on? A bear attack?

The silence after the scream seemed to ring in the air. The birds had gone quiet. Ginger whined.

Marcus ignored her and cocked his head, listening for more, his heart thudding hard and fast as the blood rushed through his veins. His inner alpha wolf stirred, determined to find out what was wrong.

Wanting to set something right again.

He kept a tight hold on the damn alpha wolf. He wouldn’t lose control to instinct. He needed to be careful. He didn’t have a pack to defend anymore. This wasn’t his business.

Yeah, right. As if he could ever turn away from someone in trouble.

Ginger had returned to the doorway. She was looking out at the trees too, and her ears twitched.

Ginger, stay.

She whined again but obeyed. She was a good dog. Far too good a dog to risk checking out whatever this was. He didn’t want to go rushing off with Ginger at his side, meaning to save some hiker being trampled by a moose, and have his dog end up hurt too.

He shut the door, keeping her in the caravan. He picked up his ax and crossed the clearing toward the trees, moving in the direction of the scream. Maybe the scream had been some humans screwing around. Teenagers or something. It didn’t seem likely, but maybe…

Instead of stripping off his blue jeans and boots, shifting into a wolf, and tear-assing into the forest willy-nilly, he calmly and carefully walked in the direction of the scream. He kept the ax firmly in hand, though.

Another cry echoed in the air. Not a scream this time. More like a wail of fear and pain.

Fuck it. Time to run.

He kicked off his boots, socks, and dragged off his jeans. He never wore boxers. What the hell was the point when you lived alone?

Naked, he took three running steps and embraced the alpha wolf inside him. The wolf was powerful and responded eagerly to his call.

The shift rippled through him, his wolf nature dominating. His body changed, shifting, muscles rearranging as his bones moved and adjusted from man to wolf. Thick gray fur burst from his scarred skin. He howled as he hit the ground again on four paws and began to sprint.

Someone out there was in danger and pain. Someone was terrified and needed help. He might have come to Alaska to escape from his alpha instincts, but he refused to fail someone else the way he’d failed his pack.

He bared his teeth and ran through the trees, shooting through the undergrowth like a furry rocket.

If some asshole was hurting some innocent person, that bastard was about to have a very bad day when a huge gray wolf showed up to put an end to it.

* * *

DANNY

Shut up, you fucking little bitch, the beefy guy snarled right before he punched Danny Holloway in the gut.

All the air was driven out of Danny in one whooshing exhale. He doubled up and fell to his side, collapsing onto the fallen leaves and pine needles along the side of this one-lane dirt road. Pain ripped through him. It felt as if his chest had locked up and he couldn’t suck in the air he needed.

Danny couldn’t scream anymore. He didn’t have any breath left in his body. It was all he could do to suck in another shallow breath. The smell of damp soil and wet leaves filled his nose. It was almost enough to hide the stink of his fear.

Screaming doesn’t matter, he thought as he curled up, clutching his stomach. You already tried screaming. No one is coming. This is the middle of nowhere in Alaska, and Alaska is already the ass-end of nowhere. You could be eaten by bears and no one would come. Not even to take pictures.

This was not a bear attacking him. This was a human who stank of stale beer and body odor. His name was Bill something. Bill didn’t like homosexuals. He probably didn’t like wolf shifters either, but he hadn’t said anything about the fact that Danny was an omega, so maybe he didn’t know. It wasn’t as if Danny wore a T-shirt announcing