Disclaimer: The only thing that is mine is the plot, the world of 'Alpha and Omega' and 'Mercy Thompson' belongs to Patricia Briggs. Cover Image is the work of Dan Dos Santos.
About this Collection: You might have already read the first chapter in this collection. I've had it up under a different name since May. But I decided to include all my Mercyverse stories under the same collection, and have therefor added to it. The stories in this collection will be from the world of Mercy and Alpha and Omega. It will include characters we know and love, characters we don't know but love anyway, and a few of my own mind. Stories will range from light and fluffy, to things a little more dark and angsty. I will be putting an A/N at the start of each chapter detailing a little of what that story will be about.
Most of these stories will be 'deleted scenes' - something we didn't get to see in the books, or something set outside the books timeline. Requests are WELCOME. I have a number of stories already planned, but if you would like to see a specific scene written out feel free to either msg me, or put it in a review.
A/N: An Alpha from a distant country finds out what the Marrok has in stall for the Werewolves' big reveal. Pre 'Hunting Ground' OC's POV. Just a very short piece. I got this idea while reading 'Hunting Ground' for the second time. There is a small paragraph at the start of the book when Charles is explaining about the wolves all over the world. "There are two packs in Australia, about forty wolves. Both of their Alphas have been informed of our plans, and neither voiced objections."
As an Australian I couldn't pass up the chance to voice my objections!
Read, review but most of all enjoy!
In a small weatherboard house a few hours from Sydney Mathew Flynn rocked the baby in his arms and whispered soothing words as she fussed, tired and ready for bed.
"Here, I'll take her," his wife and mate whispered drying her hands on a dishcloth after finishing the dishes and walking over.
"She's getting tired," he murmured to his mate, putting the baby in her arms. He had been a wolf for a long time, experience a great deal life had to offer in the years since the change, but nothing could have prepared him for being a father for the first time. It was new, and exciting and he wouldn't change it for the world.
"It's time for a nap, isn't it sweetheart," his wife cooed to the baby, "let's put you down, and maybe Mummy and Daddy can get a bit of cleaning done, hum." She walked out of the kitchen and headed for the first door to the right of the hallway.
Mat made to follow and help his wife with their daughter, but the phone started to ring. "Hello?" Mat said as he picked up the phone.
"Mathew," the voice on the other end of the telephone greeted him. The accent clear and controlled, with a hint of Welsh, not at all like the soft twang of Mat's own.
The wolf froze. He had only heard that voice once, seventy years ago, when the older wolf had called to warn him that Darwin was in the sites of the Japanese. How the Marrok had gotten that information in the first place was one of the reasons he was spoken about in awe, even on the other side of the world.
Mat had called a contact in the government, the military had scrambled to intervene, and Darwin survived to fight another day.
Mat cleared his throat. "Bran," he said, "It's been a while, what's the issue this time."
The Marrok didn't have much cause to call on him, they lived in different countries on opposite sides of the world. He and his wolves didn't follow Bran's orders. They weren't under the Marrok's rule, they would never be under the Marrok's rule.
There were only forty wolves in Australia. Thirty in his pack, located at the base of the Blue Mountains, south of Sydney. There were only ten in the pack on the West Coast. There were not enough wolves in the country that they had any major issues. Any type of policing came down to him and the Alpha of the other pack. If a wolf lost control they dealt with it by killing them, and covering up the mess. There was enough deadly animals on the continent that a werewolf attack could easily be covered up.
"A few actually," the Marrok answered evenly.
That was one of the things Mat hated about the older man, for a wolf whose ire was legendary, the man was always so calm, it was uncanny.
Mat heaved a sigh and then collapsed on the couch. "Ok," he said tiredly. "Just tell me."
Bran paused for a second, "I think it's time we told the human's." he said coolly, his words sending Mat sitting bolt upright.
Mat's eyes widened in horror. "What!" he shouted so loud his human mate stuck her head in from the bedroom and gave him an annoyed look. "Would you keep it down, I've just put Alice down for her nap," she snapped at him.
He put his hand over the mouthpiece to muffle his voice. "Sorry sweetie," he called to her, unable to help the smile forming on his face as she gave him the finger before returning to her baby. He took his hand away from the phone and put it back to his ear. "What did you say?" he asked Bran again.
Bran was patient. "The Fae have been out for thirty years," he said, not telling Mat anything he didn't already know. He knew all about the Fae, despite there being only a few who decided to settle in Australia, most of them preferring the America's that reminded them of the old world. Only those with an affinity for metal, seemed inclined to make this big, hot land their own. The Iron ore in the soil of the metal-rich country didn't suit those with an aversion to metal.
"I think it's about time the wolves came out as well." Bran continued, "It's getting harder and harder to hide as the technology becomes more advanced and the governments know that their are others out there. I want it to be on our terms."
Mat mulled it over. It did make sense, as a dominant Alpha he knew the advantage making the call would be, it would give the wolves an edge over those who could also seek to gain over the exposure, the government being one of them. He could appreciate the other wolf wanting to have that advantage, he could even understand wanting it to be now. The number of near sightings had almost tripled in the last decade alone.
"Why are you telling me?" he asked eventually.
"It might be a month away yet, but eventually it's going to happen. I'm giving you the heads up, prepare yourself and prepare your wolves for it. I'm going to contact Hussein and the South American wolves soon and give them the same fate. I'm organising a meeting with the Europeans and Canadians in a few days, see if I can't talk them into agreeing with me as well."
"Do you want me there?" he asked, "You Yanks could do with a bit of back up."
Bran laughed heartily, and Mat smiled, he liked the old wolf. "I appreciate the offer, but the wolves I'm sending will be fine, he's done this type of thing before – she hasn't, but she's better at handling people then he'll ever be."
"Ah," Mat said with realisation, leaning back on the couch and putting his boots on the coffee table, though making sure his wife was in the other room first. "You sending Samuel or Charles?" he asked. The Marrok's sons were almost as well-known as Bran himself. He had never talked to either wolf, but Samuel could very well be as old as his father, and everyone knew of Charles, the only known born wolf. It would make sense for Bran to send either of his sons, someone whose presence wouldn't be taken as an insult if Bran himself didn't go personally.
"Charles," Bran said after a moment's hesitation. "He is more suited to this type of work then Samuel is. Samuel is taking things hard at the moment, he's been a wolf for a long time."
"And the girl?" Mat asked, "Are you sure she can handle Jean Chastel? That French bastard is a real piece of work."
Bran chuckled. "Anna, she's Omega," he said simply, as if that explained everything.
Maybe it did. Mat whistle softly. "Boy, I'd love to see the looks on their faces when she walks in," he muttered. "It's been a while since I've had the pleasure of being in an Omega's company, my young Georgia died decades ago."
"She's a blessing," Bran agreed, "I haven't felt as calm as I have in her presence, in a very long time."
"You're getting mellow in your old age mate," Mat said, hearing the longing in the other wolf's voice.
"Yes," he admitted, "Though I think the world is grateful for that."
"You wouldn't be wrong there mate," Mat said. The Australian wolf was barely a century old, yet already he could feel the years pressing upon his shoulders. He wouldn't like to think of what might have happened if he hadn't found a mate. If he didn't now have something to live for in his little girl. Without them he might have gone the same way of many a wolf before him. It would have been a disaster, his second wasn't dominate enough to bring him back from the brink. He would have died, but not without bringing a few of his wolves down with him.
They chatted for a little while. "What do you think the vampires will do?" Mat asked the older wolf.
"They'll stay quiet for now," Bran confirmed, "They know they can't come out now…"
"Too many teenage girls obsessed with the undead?" Mat interrupted with a grin.
"That's true," Bran admitted, "It's also harder for them to play the unwilling victim when even the stupidest teenager knows a vampires true nature. They won't reveal themselves for a while yet."
"Well as long as they don't steal our thunder, filthy bloodsuckers." Mat muttered under his breath.
"Are you still on that thing?" His mate snapped at him in annoyance as she walked into the living room and heading for the kitchen, "Get off that, you have work to do you lazy bastard."
Bran laughed, having heard her through the phone and Mat smiled ruefully, "Well that's my cue mate." He admitted.
"Good luck Mat," Bran said, "Go see to your mate before she really has something to say."
"See ya Bran, though do me a favour, call with good news next time would ya?"
"I'll see what I can do," Bran said dryly before they exchanged goodbyes and hung up.
With a sigh Mat replaced the phone on the receiver and headed towards the kitchen. "Ok love, what do you need?" He asked. Every Alpha knew how to fight, part of that was learning to pick you're battles. As he walked into the kitchen and saw his wife's less than amused expression he knew that this was one battle he didn't have a hope in winning.
He just hoped Charles and Anna had more luck then he did.