Archer: The Unchained Omegaverse: M/F Alpha Omega Romance Read online

  Archer

  The Unchained Omegaverse

  Callie Rhodes

  Contents

  Archer

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  About the Author

  Also by Callie Rhodes

  Archer

  Once there were boundaries…but now that their chains are broken, these alphas refused to be contained.

  The remote country home was supposed to be her refuge—the one place Sarah Watson could escape the constant stress of the hectic beta world. That’s why her grandmother had left it to her.

  But when Sarah arrives for her first tripin years, she finds that her beloved childhood hideaway has been invaded by someone—something—else.

  An alpha…one far from the Boundaryland territory where he belongs.

  Newly escaped from a hellhole prison where he’d been subjected to brutal experimentation, Archer has found the first real peace in years in this isolated mountain haven. But he’ll be damned before he gives it up to some powerless beta woman. As far as he’s concerned, this land is his to claim as his own…and so is she.

  Chapter One

  Sarah Watson couldn't believe she had forgotten about the fairy dust.

  For a moment, the long-faded memory pushed the rest of her racing thoughts out of her head. Taking her foot off the gas pedal, she focused on the tiny particles of dust and pollen sparkling in the sun just beyond her windshield.

  "The fairies kick it up just so they can watch it dance," her grandmother had told her, insisting that it was made of magic even after Sarah's parents scoffed that dirt in the air was just one more proof that humans didn't belong in the wilderness.

  At least, not betas.

  They were right, of course--about the dust, not about betas’ place in the world. There was nothing magical about the tiny floating motes caught in the mountain air, nothing supernatural about the way the flecks caught the sunlight and reflected it in a swirling kaleidoscope.

  But it was fun to pretend.

  The reminder eased some of the tension from Sarah’s shoulders, but not for long.

  The SUV bucked as it hit a fallen branch in the road, jolting her back to the present. She needed to pay attention. There wasn't a hospital or a mechanic for miles. She'd passed the last gas station all the way back in the nearly-deserted town of Bagnell. That had been the final sign of civilization, and Sarah knew there wouldn't be another until the Ozarks gave way to the flat prairie land on the other side.

  It had been a long drive from St. Louis out here to the edge of the mountains, most of it on smooth, well-maintained highway blacktop. It wasn't until she'd left the main road that driving conditions turned rough.

  Her second-hand SUV had done its best to absorb every crack and pothole, but the old shocks could only take so much.

  Uttering a curse, Sarah focused on the road. It hadn't always been this bad. When she was a kid, Sarah had ridden her bike up and down these country lanes. But that had been before everyone had picked up and moved, selling their land to the government and leaving the wilds of the region's mountains, lakes, and forests behind for a more civilized life in the city.

  Over a decade ago, at the beginning of the government's resettlement plans, her grandparents had dug in their heels, stubbornly refusing to leave. They said they didn't care if they were the last betas living in the Ozarks.

  And they'd gotten their wish...right up until Grandma died three years ago.

  The memory still tightened around Sarah's heart like a vise, making her grip the steering wheel even harder. Don't think about it, she told herself sternly.

  Once she got to the house, once she'd carried her things inside and locked the door, then she would allow herself to cry.

  For now, her surroundings gave her more than enough to concentrate on. She had forgotten the way the trees grew so close together that they created a canopy of green through which the sun only occasionally broke through. Underneath their branches, the world was a cool, sheltered wonderland with a carpet of leaves and evergreen needles.

  She was once again in the enchanted woods of her childhood imagination, where light and shadow danced between the trunks of the towering trees. Her nine-year-old self had been so certain that behind every fallen log and moss-covered rock, some magical creature waited—a sprite or wood nymph. She'd spent whole afternoons searching for them.

  Sometimes, when Sarah was out exploring, Grandpa would find her on his way to the lake. He hadn't been much of a talker, but he'd always opened up when he was on his boat. There he'd cuddle her in his lap while he told her stories about the Sergeant--the only magical creature he believed in.

  Sergeant wasn't a fairy, though--just a huge, ornery striped bass who had managed to get away a dozen times before Grandpa finally caught him and mounted him above the fireplace.

  "Nearly dragged the boat under," Grandpa would say in a scary voice, tickling Sarah's ribs. "It was me or that danged fish, I'll tell you that."

  Sarah sighed. Grandpa had been gone for over a decade now. She'd had a tree planted in his honor, a pretty little dogwood, near her favorite bench in Forest Park.

  Her parents couldn't understand why she wanted to live in the center of the city when there were plenty of houses for sale in their suburb, but Sarah liked walking along the paths in the shade of the gardens that had been carefully planned and installed nearly a hundred years ago in an attempt to match the grand public parks and gardens of Europe.

  There was even a museum—though the zoo had been torn down by the current administration and replaced with a Beta Cultural Center with exhibits touting a return to traditional values, complete with a Homemaking Pavilion and dubious displays promoting chastity for unmarried women as a health matter.

  Even though Sarah resisted all of the propaganda, there was still a small part of her that had been browbeaten into believing in this new 'Beta Ideal'.

  That had to be why she couldn't shake the shiver of trepidation that had been there since her alarm had gone off this morning, and only grown worse since.

  Leaving the city, then the suburbs, then the megafarms that had replaced individual farms in a government program meant to increase efficiency and output, Sarah left the beta world behind. Rural America was one big ghost town these days--largely uninhabited.

  But this was what she wanted…wasn't it? This was what she'd fought so hard for--the right to return to the place she'd loved as a child. The only place she'd been happy. To take her grandmother's place as the last beta in this ancient wilderness.

  And even though there weren’t any other people out here anymore to keep her company, the gorgeous countryside would more than make up for the loss. Every turn in the road brought a sweeping vista. Every ascent was rewarded by another breathtaking view.

  And all of it was truly wild.

  Nature might not yet have entirely reclaimed the decrepit road, but it had sent vines and saplings through the floors of buildings, leveled others to piles of brick. The diners and gas stations still bore faded graffiti. They'd long ago been stripped of anything valuable, and their broken windows now glittered prettily among the weeds choking their foundations.

  It wa
s the sort of sight that would give the rest of her family nightmares.

  Nothing new there.

  As far back as Sarah could remember, her parents had hated making the four-hour drive. Once there, their moods soured further, despite the fact that Grandma always made up the bed in the spare bedroom with her best flowered sheets and had a strawberry pie cooling in the window.

  During those visits, her parents counted the seconds until they could go home again. They ate Grandma's cooking in silence and complained that there was nothing to do, even though there was a whole shelf full of games and cards and puzzles. They became furious when Sarah snuck out to go exploring, even though Grandma insisted she would be fine.

  Grandma had always had Sarah's back. She'd never listened when Sarah's mother argued that the forest was no place for a self-respecting beta, let alone a little girl; and she'd encouraged Sarah to stand up to her older brothers when they teased her for believing in fairytales.

  Sarah's parents were both lawyers, logical and sensible by nature, with an aversion to whimsy.

  "Why don't you sell this place and move closer to us?" her father had asked his parents, trying to talk them into moving to one of the newly constructed condominium towers on the edge of the city, with their clinics, shops, beauty parlors, bowling alley, and even a casino right on sight. "You'd never have to leave the development."

  The suggestion earned him a snort of disgust from Grandpa and a glare from Grandma.

  "If it's so great, then you move there," she sniffed.

  It had been two against one, so her father had been forced to drop the subject. But once Grandpa died, he was right back on it.

  Not that Grandma was any more receptive to the idea then.

  "There's been a Watson living on this land for as long as they've been keeping records," she told her son, "and I ain't going to be the one to break that chain."

  "It's a wonder you survived this long," Sarah's father said irritably. "And with Dad gone, it's just a matter of time. This is no place for a woman, especially one as old as you. You should hear what our neighbors are saying."

  "I don't give two cents what your fancy-pants neighbors think." Grandma turned from the stove to shake her wooden spoon at him. “Besides, I ain't as old as you seem to think. I'm sure as hell not feeble. This land has taken care of me since before you were born, and it will keep taking care of me until it's time to bury me out back."

  "Do you even hear yourself?" he sputtered. "You sound like one of Sarah's delusional fantasies. Next, you'll be telling me that fairies living in hollow trees will leave baskets of food on your doorstep."

  Sarah only flinched a little at her father's harsh words. Even at ten, she was used to being called worse than that by her parents.

  "You're too hard on that girl, Arthur," Grandma said sternly, returning to stirring the soup. "As far as I'm concerned, she's the only one in this family with any sense."

  Her father's face had hardened with anger. "Of course you'd say that. You're the one who put all those ideas in her head. Well, I've had enough. Believe it or not, Sarah just might have a future if she learns to pay attention and focus on her studies, and I won't have you getting in the way."

  That was the last trip Sarah ever took to the Ozarks.

  Fortunately, it wasn't the last time she saw her beloved grandmother. Rosemary came to visit Sarah’s family twice a year for another decade…until three years ago.

  When Christmas Day dawned with no sign of her, Sarah's father and two of her brothers drove down to the cabin. They discovered that she had passed away peacefully in the bed she'd shared with her husband for five decades.

  Sarah had been devastated by grief that no one else in her family seemed to share. Her parents almost seemed relieved that the constant arguments over Grandma's attachment to that patch of land were over.

  But even Grandma's death wasn't the end of the trouble, as it turned out. When her will was read, everyone was shocked to learn that instead of leaving the property to one of her sons, Grandma had left it all to Sarah.

  Sarah quickly realized how far her family would go to contest the will, despite the fact that the only thing any of them wanted with the old house and land was to sell it to the government.

  But that was also when Sarah discovered that the house wasn't the only thing she'd inherited from her grandparents. She'd acquired their stubbornness as well.

  Within a month she'd enrolled in law school, and spent the next three grueling years battling her parents in court. Flanked by her brothers, uncles, and cousins, they fought to strip Sarah of what was rightfully hers, all ‘for her own good.'

  But in the end, they had underestimated Grandma. Her will was as airtight as it was simple. Despite being clearly sympathetic to her family's case, the judge couldn't find a legal reason to rule against Sarah.

  As of a month ago, the best part of her childhood—hell, the best part of her whole life—was finally hers. And so was the second-hand trailer hitched to the back of the SUV that contained all her earthly possessions, as well as the supplies she'd bought to start her new life off the grid.

  (Not that she had any idea what those things were, so she'd packed a little bit of everything, from dry goods to medicine to insect repellant to tampons and half a dozen of her favorite bras in case they quit making them.)

  Sarah's tension started to escalate again now that she was less than a quarter-mile from the house, forced to slow to a crawl by the rutted road.

  This was a good idea, she told herself. Really.

  After all, she didn't have to stay out here forever if she didn't like it. Just long enough to show her parents that they had been wrong all along--that she could do this, despite them insisting all her life that a dreamer like her could never get by without help.

  And even if this did turn out to be a huge, miserable mistake, Sarah would recover. After her parents pulled their financial support a couple years ago to pressure her to give up the fight, Sarah got a bartending job at night. She was exhausted by the time she passed the bar exam, but armed with that law degree, she had options—a Plan B that even her parents couldn't deny.

  More importantly, the past three years had taught her how to fight back. How to dig in her heels when the going got hard. Never again would she let her parents—or anyone else—convince her that her true self wasn't good enough.

  That was what truly mattered…right?

  Sarah drove under a huge old chestnut tree, its branches dragging against the windshield. She was afraid to see how much damage three years of neglect had done to the house, but no matter how long it took, Sarah was determined to return it to its former humble glory.

  But when she reached the drive, the engine groaning from the weight of the trailer, Sarah was shocked to discover that the house was still in good shape. If she wasn't mistaken, the asphalt had been recently patched, and the foliage was trimmed away from the roof.

  Sarah hadn't laid eyes on the place for fourteen years, but it was just as she remembered it. Tears gathered in her eyes as she took in the buttercup-yellow siding, the porch rails her great-grandfather had sawn from trees he'd felled to clear the lot. There wasn’t a single busted window or loose rain gutter. Even the front porch looked as though it had been swept.

  It was almost as if the sprites and wood nymphs from her childhood imagination had come to life to fill the void left by Grandma's death. For a moment, Sarah held her breath, remembering all the times Grandma insisted that the land would take care of her…

  And then the moment was gone, replaced by the reality that she was grimy and weary and had a lot to do before she could rest. Tomorrow, she would have to find the kind neighbor who'd been taking care of the place to thank them properly.

  Only--Grandma didn't have any neighbors, not anymore.

  So who had been caring for the house? Suddenly Sarah felt a little uncertain about coming here all alone, with no one around for miles and miles and—

  The curtain at the front windo
w moved. It was just a shiver, really, probably caused by a draft or a scuttling mouse. It might have even been her imagination, but the hairs rising on the back of her neck told her it wasn't.

  Someone was in there--and it was no damn sprite.

  Which left only one other option: the house had been taken over by a squatter, an all too human one.

  Sarah's heart raced and her hands began to shake. She'd known she would face obstacles in moving here, but she hadn't expected them to be waiting for her before she even arrived.

  You should have known. It was the voice of her parents, starting up that old familiar chorus. You really thought you could just waltz in there and expect your little fairies to bring you a casserole?

  No. Sarah killed the engine and took a deep breath, vowing not to let this new development overwhelm her. Whoever was inside, they had obviously been taking care of the house. Which meant they were a reasonable person… didn't it? It was probably nothing that a rational conversation couldn't fix.

  And if it didn't, Sarah knew what to do.

  She reached for the shotgun lying on the passenger seat. It wasn't something she'd planned to bring. In fact, she'd refused the first time her friend Darlene, one of the few friends she'd known since high school and the only one she'd told about her plan, offered her the old gun.

  But it hadn't taken much to wear Sarah down as Darlene listed all the threats she could face in the wilderness. She'd insisted on teaching Sarah to use the shotgun late one night in the empty parking lot of the warehouse where she worked. Sarah wasn't much of a shot, but Darlene promised that it wouldn't matter.