His Two AlphasA Men of Meadowfall novel
Anna Wineheart
Contents
1. Micah
2. Spike
3. Kai
4. Micah
5. Spike
6. Micah
7. Kai
8. Spike
9. Micah
10. Micah
11. Kai
12. Spike
13. Micah
14. Micah
15. Micah
16. Micah
17. Kai
18. Micah
19. Kai
20. Micah
21. Micah
22. Micah
23. Micah
24. Micah
25. Micah
26. Kai
27. Micah
28. Kai
29. Spike
30. Kai
31. Spike
32. Micah
33. Kai
34. Micah
35. Spike
36. Micah
37. Kai
38. Micah
39. Kai
40. Kai
41. Kai
42. Kai
43. Micah
44. Micah
45. Spike
Epilogue
Thank You! + Coming soon!
Also by Anna
About the Author
Copyright Anna Wineheart 2019
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without express written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This novel contains graphic sexual content between three men. Intended for mature readers only.
Warnings: past child neglect/abuse, an alcoholic parent, and some violence
To all my readers:
Thank you for all your support - I wouldn’t be here writing books if it weren’t for you :)
Take care, and I hope you’ll enjoy Micah, Kai, and Spike’s story!
.
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1
Micah
“Up next: Despite the rain, a high-profile celebrity wedding took place in Meadowfall this afternoon,” the news anchor announced. “Said to be one of the most romantic unions of the year...”
Micah Davis thumbed the remote with every intention of changing the channel, but he couldn’t.
On TV, the camera panned over a tremendous crowd gathered by the lake: the most popular wedding spot in Meadowfall, with a scenic forest in the background, and chairs with gold ribbons arranged in front of a gazebo.
The celebrity couple gazed adoringly at each other, bonding marks on their necks, wedding bands on their fingers. The crowd cheered.
Micah’s heart ached with longing.
If he ever had a wedding... the chairs would be pale yellow with royal blue ribbons, and he’d wear a lace shirt with flowing pants. He’d stand in front of the minister and his alpha, hand in hand, his alpha staring fervently at him.
Like Micah was his most important person in the entire world.
What would that feel like? Micah shivered and looked down at his hands—one with pale skin, the other covered in mottled red scars.
Just like that, his hopes for the future receded like the tide.
The burn wounds had healed horribly. Thick, uneven scar tissue ran down the entire right side of his body, scars that sometimes hurt for no reason at all.
Micah tried not to look at his walking stick, or the mess of scars on his foot. He patted the hair on his right side, combing it down over the bald patches on his scalp.
He still felt the bulky flesh on his cheek and shoulder, though, scar tissue with messed-up nerve endings, lumpy and thick, attracting stares everywhere he went.
Sometimes, Micah just felt so ugly.
At first, after the fire, he’d tried dating. All his dates had stared, and the conversation had grown awkward after a while. Then he’d tried putting his picture up on dating sites, and only creeps had messaged him there.
After a series of more dates, some convincing from his friends... Micah had tried again, only to give up.
He was forty-one. He was past the prime of his child-bearing years. He had a son, and York was the most wonderful child a parent could ask for. But York was also nineteen, and sooner than later, he’d find his own omega to settle down with.
And then Micah would be all alone—why would an alpha pick a limping, scarred mess of an omega, when they could have any number of prettier, younger ones out there?
With a sigh, he cracked open his laptop, pulling open his work email. New regulations on staff-student relationships, the first message said. Maintain the college’s reputation—inform your superiors about suspected relationships between professors and students.
Like Micah needed a reminder.
“Hey, Dad,” York said from the kitchen. “You have a moment?”
Like Micah, York had blue eyes and brown hair, but the similarities ended there. Where York was tall and strong, Micah was thin, a whole head shorter, and he smelled like gardenia, instead of York’s hickory scent.
“Kai and Spike are coming over for a bit,” York said. “We’ve got the group project due next week.”
Micah blinked. And then horror crashed through his chest. “Wait, they’re coming over?”
“In five minutes.” York frowned. “I asked you earlier. You said yes, remember?”
Micah looked down at himself—he wasn’t dressed in much: just a T-shirt and a pair of sleeping shorts. With any other friends of York’s, that would have been okay. Except Kai and Spike Ventura... they weren’t any ordinary students.
And Micah was in heat.
Last week, Spike had come up to the podium after class and said, My brother needs help with his homework. He’s too stubborn to ask for it, so is it okay if I wrangle him into your office? I swear I’ll make it up to you if he’s a grumpy bastard.
And then Spike had winked. At Micah. Who was his professor.
Micah had stammered a yes, only because it was his duty to teach.
That hadn’t been the only time he’d spoken to Spike Ventura, though—on far too many afternoons this semester, Micah had bumped into Spike on campus.
Once, Spike had handed Micah his fallen stack of assignments. The next week, he’d handed Micah a red pen and said, You dropped this, even though the pen was new and there was still a price tag on it.
On a third occasion, Spike had nudged past Micah, and he’d sniffed. Are you using a new perfume? It smells good, he’d said, meeting Micah’s eyes with a warm, toe-curling smile. Micah hadn’t been wearing any perfume at all; Spike must’ve already known that.
Micah had glimpsed Spike and his
