Chapter 11: Alpha’s Prize: Chapter 11

Carlos

I carry coffee and croissants from the train snack cart to where Sedona sketches on her pad. The trip from Paris to Barcelona takes six and a half hours by speed train and I’ve done everything I can think of to make things easy and enjoyable for Sedona. I bought us comfort class tickets and paid for three seats instead of two so we wouldn’t have to sit with anyone else. I set up her phone to charge in the outlet between our seats and offered her my iPod and earbuds for music.

I love to watch her work, so absorbed in her sketch of a fairy alight a flower.

She barely looks up as I set the food down on my tray, but I don’t take offense. I don’t want to intrude on her time, I’m just grateful she’s allowed me to take care of her.

I pull my phone out and call Monte Lobo. It’s Sunday, and it was my habit when away to call my mother on Sundays. Of course, she doesn’t have her own phone, since technology is banned for all but the council and alpha.

I call Don Santiago, who acts as a sort of gatekeeper for the pack. Almost all transmissions go through him. I don’t like Don Santiago—I don’t like any of the council members—but he’s probably the most capable. Like me, he went to university. He has an advanced degree, even worked for a time in a genetics lab in Mexico City. He’s been out in the world enough to understand how things work, including technology and how best to use it. He was the one responsible for getting the mountain wired for Wi-Fi despite the rest of the council’s dire predictions that connecting us to the world would lead to our destruction.

Don Santiago answers on the second ring. “Carlos.” He always goes for this hearty, grandfatherly tone with me.

“Hello, Don Santiago,” I say in Spanish. “How are things?” It’s the same conversation we had every week I was away in college.

“All is well here, mijo.” He calls me my son, which always makes me bristle.

I don’t let it slide this time. “Carlos. Or Don Carlos. Not son.” I’m pleased I can say it coolly with nary a growl.

“Of course, I’m sorry Don Carlos,” Don Santiago smooths. “It’s just that I’ve known you since you were a baby.”

“And now I’m alpha.”

“Yes, of course. No one challenges that.”

For some reason his words make the hairs on my arms stand up. He said it too quickly, too easily. As if I really do need to worry that there will be a challenge. I store that away to chew on later.

“Did you find your female, Carlos?”

I stifle a growl again. I don’t like anyone talking about my female, especially not any of the fucking council members. “I found her.”

“And?”

This time I do rumble. “I am taking her to Barcelona. A honeymoon of sorts.” I glance guiltily at Sedona, even though she doesn’t speak Spanish. I’m not sure she would appreciate my calling this a honeymoon, since she hasn’t agreed to be my mate, but I’m just saying the thing Santiago wants to hear. To get him off my fucking back. “Is my mother available?” I ask impatiently.

“I’m walking to her quarters now. Let’s see if she’s coherent today.”

I gnash my teeth, even though it’s not Don Santiago’s fault whether she’s coherent or not. In fact, I used to depend on Don Santiago to be the one who would give it to me straight about my mother. But after Maria Jose’s suggestion I have someone else look at her, a seed of doubt has crept in. Does Don Santiago have her best interest at heart? What if they’re not giving her the best care possible? What if I should have sought to return her to her own family after my father died?

It’s not too late—I can look into it when I return. Yet another issue to address.

I hear Don Santiago’s voice and my mother’s in response, then she comes on the line. “Carlos?”

“Hello, Mamá. How’s it going?”

“Carlos? Where are you?”

“I’m in Barcelona, Mamá, with the girl I told you about.”

“In Barcelona?” She sounds confused. Nothing new there.

“Yes, with my female.”

My mom gives a loud gasp, and a spike of fear rushes through me before she proclaims, “How wonderful! Carlos has a mate.”

“Are you crying, Mamá?”

“I’m just so happy for you, Carlos. When are you going to bring her home?”

“I’m not sure.” A fact which kills me. “Soon, I hope.” Not a lie—I can always hope.

“Grandpups. I want grandpups, Carlos.”

A rush of longing goes through me so strongly I have to close my eyes. Sedona, pregnant with my pup. My entire life would be worth living if that were the case. And I would damn well make sure their life was perfect.

I clear my throat. “I want that, too, Mamá.”

Sedona is looking over at me with curiosity, taking her ear buds out of her ears.

“Listen, Mamá, I have to go. I’ll call you next week. Take care of yourself.”

“I love you, Carlitos, mijo. Bring the she-wolf back here. I want to meet her.”

“Yes, Mamá. I love you, too. Ciao.”

I end the call and turn to Sedona and shrug. “My mother.”

“Was she—” Sedona seems to struggle for the words. I appreciate her sensitivity.

“She was mostly coherent. I told her about you.” I fidget with the croissants, pulling one out of the paper sleeve to offer it to her.

“What did you say?”

“Well, I told her about you the morning you left, but she’d forgotten. I told her I was here with you now. She cried.”

Sedona’s watching me too intently for comfort. I break off a piece of croissant and pop it between her lips.

“I am capable of feeding myself, you know.”

“I like to feed you.”

She smiles as she chews. “I know you do. So, why did she cry?”

“She’s happy for me. I didn’t tell her any of the, uh, history. Only that I’m here with my female—a female,” I amend.

The sadness I saw on Sedona’s face all last week creeps back over and I want to shoot myself for making her remember. There’s so much ugliness in our past—because of the council. I don’t want to bring it up, but I know we have to face it at some point. I take a deep breath.

“Listen. We’ll figure it out. I know it’s a lot to overcome—what we’ve been through, our differences, where we live. But give us a chance, Sedona.”

“I don’t know, Carlos. We live in different worlds.”

“We’re two educated, intelligent wolves. We can make it work.”

Her brow wrinkles, gaze going far away.

I grab her hand to bring her back. “I’ve been thinking of the way things are in Monte Lobo. I always planned to change things as soon as I became alpha. I’ve only been back a few weeks, and it hasn’t been as easy as I expected, but I promise things will be different.

“Sedona, first of all, I want you to know I tried to avenge your kidnapping, but someone got there first.”

“Garrett. My brother.”

I nod.

“Second, I want to say, what the council did to you—to us—was wrong. When I get back, I’ll be turning things upside down. There are many good wolves in the pack, and they deserve better.” Something in me shifts as I speak. I make the vow in my heart as I tell Sedona, “I’m going to root out corruption and carry the pack out of the Dark Ages. I will be the alpha they need.”

Sedona studies my face. I stay very still, wondering what she sees in me.

“Okay.” Something relaxes in her. “I’m glad.”

“Thank you.” I’m glad she listened. I can’t tell if I won her trust, though.

“One thing’s for sure,” she says. “Your council…” She shakes her head. “You can’t trust them. Not after what they did.”

“I know. After my father died, they ran the show. I was too young to lead and there was no other clear alpha. They’ve taken way too much power. It will take a while to undo the damage they have done.”

“So you will return to Mexico?” she asks, and my heart seizes. This is the topic I’ve been avoiding.

I take a deep breath. “I want to say no. See there’s this beautiful female wolf who captivates me…”

Sedona smiles.

“But she wouldn’t respect me if I abandoned my duties.”

“No, she wouldn’t.”

“But I had to see her again. Even just for a few days. Monte Lobo is so oppressive, but the sight of her reminds me of what I’m fighting for. I’m hoping she will enjoy the next few days with me. We can pretend to be tourists who just met and travel together on a whim.”

She raises a brow.

“It’s a long shot, but I’m hoping she’ll understand. I need this. Even if only for a few days.”

“I understand,” she says softly, a shadow passing over her face.

“Hey,” I cup her cheek. “We don’t have to decide anything. Let’s just focus on enjoying Spain together.”

“Okay.”

A weight lifts off my chest. I have no answers for the future, but my wolf is happy to dwell in the now, basking in the presence of his chosen mate.

I pop another bite of croissant in her mouth. “May I see your drawing?”

She reaches for the pad, then hesitates, shooting me an inscrutable look.

“Please?”

I hold my breath as she slowly passes it to me, hoping I say the right things. The fairy is adorable—huge, wide-set eyes, a bow-tie mouth and red pigtails. Dainty long lines make up her body to give the impression of movement, like she’s about to flit off to the next flower. She has her hands clasped behind her back, like Degas’ Little Dancer, but so much cuter. There’s a joyful, impish quality—I don’t know enough about art to understand how Sedona produced it, but it’s there.

“It’s… perfect. You have a real talent, Sedona.”

“Oh please.” She tries to snatch it back, but I hold it out of her reach. “It’s nothing. Cartoon-y stuff.”

“That’s not nothing. It’s beautiful. It’s bewitching. And most importantly, it’s what you want to create.” I can’t help but think of monetizing her art—it was pounded into me at Harvard. “These would make perfect greeting cards. Or children’s books. Even t-shirts.”

She nibbles her lip, but I see a spark of hope in her eyes and I want to fist-pump. I said the right thing. “I-I don’t really know. I’m not good with marketing or selling. I just like to create.”

“Then let me sell them for you. I’ll act as your agent. Or business-manager—whatever artists have.” I grin.

“That’d be cool.” She says it like she believes it won’t happen, which pisses me off. It makes me even more determined to prove to her how hard I’d work for her happiness.

I flip a page back and she tries to snatch it away. I twist to hold it out of her reach, where I can see it.

It’s me—my wolf, in loving detail. She has my coloring right, my eyes. She remembered everything, even though she’s only seen him once.

“Sedona.” I turn back to her, eyes wide with awe. “You drew me.”

Her cheeks are pink. She shrugs like it’s nothing. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“May I have it?”

“No.” She reaches for it and this time I reluctantly let her have it.

Disappointment lances through me. “Why not?”

“I want to keep it,” she mumbles.

My nose-diving confidence takes a sharp turn. She wants to keep it. The drawing of me. I want to read so much into this, but I know that’s not wise. She hasn’t admitted any feelings for me yet.

“I want one of you, then,” I demand.

She gives a snort. “I don’t draw myself.” Her cheeks turn an enchanting shade of pink.

“Try.”

She rolls her eyes, but a smile plays around her mouth. “I’ll think about it.”

I settle back in my seat and sip the coffee, laying one hand on her leg. Touching her grounds me, eases my anxiety even as it revs the engines of lust always burning in her presence.

It feels easy and comfortable with her and I hardly dare think it, but I’m starting to believe we can find a way to make things work.

I don’t know how yet, but I know I want to try.

~.~

Council Elder

I settle into my first class seat on the plane to Europe and pull out my laptop. I have a great many lab results to review from the tests run in Mexico City. Fortunately, they were at a lab, not the warehouse. I didn’t chance stopping there, in case it’s being watched. Not by Federales—they can be paid off. But by shifters. Word is a wolf who wasn’t part of the American party got free when they did and his pack is now on the hunt.

Good luck to them. I’ve done an excellent job staying behind the scenes. It’s easy when you’re willing to pay top dollar for services rendered.

I scan the results, studying the genetic markers of the American she-wolf, as well as those of her pack mates. All healthy. Too bad I didn’t have time to extract eggs and semen to initiate in vitro fertilization.

All the more reason Carlos needs to get his female pregnant on this trip, if the deed is not already done.

Barcelona.

Carlos couldn’t have made my job any easier. I have a warehouse there, with two she-wolves, one jaguar, and two bears in captivity there, all transported in from Siberia.

I could have them transported to Mexico, but Carlos made the decision easy for me. I’ll kill two birds with one stone.

If Carlos doesn’t cooperate, I’ll imprison him and his little American, and breed them another way. Better than killing him, like his father. What a waste.

I send a message to Aleix, one of the traffickers. There are two new wolves in your city. Find them, watch them, but don’t touch them—they are under my protection.

~.~

Sedona

Carlos holds my hand as we walk up Las Ramblas, the open air pedestrian mall in Barcelona. I try not to read too much into it—whether I should let him hold my hand, or the message it sends. He’s already sleeping in my room, waking me up at night to fuck my brains out. Probably hand-holding shouldn’t be a hard limit.

The street is packed with tourists and vendors and I have to admit, I enjoy the way Carlos embodies safety and protection.

I stop to check out a street performer pretending to be statue for a moment, then Carlos leads me to the Miró mosaic set in the sidewalk where tourists tramp right over it, never knowing it’s a famous work of art.

I check out a collection of leather bags at one vendor, and Carlos pulls his wallet out, as he has every time I’ve stopped. He’s so eager to buy me anything my heart desires. Too bad I’m not some starving artist, or he could work that angle to bind me to him.

That was a weird thought.

It’s just that he’s so actively wooing me. He’s proving he can provide, taking care of my every need. It’s sweet as hell, but also unnerves me if I think about it too hard. I feel like I’m on a reality television show where I have a limited amount of time to get to know bachelor number one and decide if he’s the guy I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.

Um, no.

Carlos and I have chemistry, no doubt about that. But I can’t decide how much of the rest of it is real. Is he here wooing me because his biology forces him to? His wolf won’t let me go now that he’s marked me?

Isn’t there some better girl for him? Someone from his own culture, who speaks the language and doesn’t mind the crazy council?

But even as I think that, I hate this imagined mate. She’d be all wrong for him, I just know.

I set down the leather bag I’m examining.

“Do you want one?” Carlos asks.

I shake my head. “No thanks, money bags.”

He lifts a brow. “Money bags?”

“Are you trying to show what a good provider you are?”

He chuckles. “I’m old-fashioned. Maybe so.”

“What is your financial situation, anyway?” I ask, then immediately kick myself because now I sound like the bachelorette interviewing her prospect.

“My pack has wealth. Generally, it all goes to the hacienda and the rest are left with nothing.”

He says this matter-of-factly, but I know it’s not something he’s accepted, or he wouldn’t call it to my attention.

“So are you going to redistribute the wealth?”

“It’s not quite so easy. I want to divert the money to infrastructure—plumbing and electricity, better housing. But I think we could also change the way we do business to increase profits. I’ve been examining the books and we should be making more. Much more.”

“Do you think someone’s stealing it?”

He meets my eye. “To be honest? Yes.”

I squeeze his hand. “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure out who and take care of it. That’s why you’re there, right?”

He loops an arm around my waist and twirls me into him, my breasts pressing up against his ribs. “Everything seems doable when I’m with you.”

My heart stutters and I melt into him, lifting my face for a kiss.

He ghosts his lips over mine. “You give me reason,” he murmurs.

Part of me wants to draw away, to deny him me as his reason. I’m not ready for that commitment. But fireworks are going off in my chest and I’m smiling up at him like a goofball.

His kiss is warm and tender, infused with something deeper than passion.

It scares the crap out of me.

~.~

Carlos

I step out of the shower after a day spent touring the Gaudí House Museum with Sedona. I swear she makes everything magical. Gaudí’s architecture is impressive, no doubt, but seeing it through her eyes made it all the more glorious.

With a towel wrapped around my waist, I walk out of the bathroom into our hotel room and find Sedona. In the red dress.

“Oh no, muñeca. You’re not wearing that out,” I say with complete authority. I have to prevent this catastrophe, or I will be ripping out the eyes of every male who sees her tonight.

Not to mention the additional problem of us not making it to dinner because I now want to throw her up against the wall and ball her brains out.

“Dress off. You can’t wear that.” Bad move on my part, but I can’t stop the dictate from flying out of my mouth.

She throws her hands on her hips. “Fuck. You. I’ll wear whatever I damn well please.”

Okay, yeah. I totally fucked up on that one.

I stalk toward her, a hunter after his prey. I shove my wolf down before speaking this time. “Forgive me, mi amor. I didn’t mean it like that.” My hands reach for her hips and I slide the fabric up to reveal more thigh. “I just meant if you wear that, the only thing I’ll be eating tonight will be you.”

One of those beautiful smiles lights up her face. “I’m counting on that.”

I groan. “But you’re starving. You already said so—twice—before we got back here to shower and change.”

“You’ll have to contain yourself until after dinner.” She covers my palms with hers to stay them.

“Impossible.”

She shrugs. “Then I’ll go alone.”

“The hell you will,” I growl. This time I can’t help but crowd her back against the wall and trap her between my arms. “Take off. The dress.”

Her eyes dilate. The corners of her lips kick up. “No.” I hear the challenge in her voice. It’s the same one that tells me to chase when she runs.

But somewhere, somehow, I also remember that she’s hungry. It’s my duty to provide for my female. So I’ll have to make this quick. I spin her around to face the wall and fist the fabric of her skirt in back to pull it up.

She’s wearing miniscule panties—tiny, G-string satin threads with a scrap of fabric between her legs.

I rip them off her, unable to contain myself enough to take them off gently. “Who are those for?” I growl, insanely jealous because she had those panties with her, she brought them to Paris, before she knew I’d join her.

“Easy, big guy,” she soothes. “They’re for you. Only for you. Like this pussy.” She reaches between her legs and touches herself.

Oh no she didn’t.

I snake an arm around her waist to hold her in place and spank her lush ass, my hand falling fast and hard. My other hand slides down her belly to cup her mons. She’s dripping wet. I press one finger into her wet heat, use it to spread moisture up to her clit. She closes her fingers over mine, rocks down for more attention down there.

I suck my breath in over my teeth and stop spanking, squeezing and massaging her heated curves as I stroke her wet pussy. “Turn around.” My voice is three octaves lower than usual, more beast than man.

She turns and I shake the towel off my waist. When she slides a leg up around my waist, I scoop my forearm under her ass, lifting her to meet my throbbing member.

And then I’m in her. Exactly where I’ve wanted to be all day. Where I needed to be last night, and the night before.

I thrust in and up, pushing her shoulders against the wall, but holding her hips out to meet mine. She’s a disheveled goddess, dress tangled up around her waist, hair sprawled out on the wall. I fuck her hard and deep, relentless.

“I wanted to give it to you slow tonight, baby. Take my time with you. But no, you had to wear that dress,” I growl as I bang into her.

She clutches my shoulders, nails scoring my flesh, marking me as I’ve marked her. “Carlos,” she chokes. The desperation is there already, she needs to come.

Good thing, because longevity isn’t in the cards for me at the moment.

“Take it,” I growl. “Take it deep, muñeca. You asked for this.”

As usual, my female is excited by my dirty talk. She shatters, inner thighs squeezing my waist, pussy clenching and releasing as her last cry hangs, seemingly suspended in the air between us because she’s stopped breathing.

I slam into her three more times and plunge deep for my finish.

Sedona’s chest moves again, and she slides her hands around, digs her nails deep into my back, closes her eyes.

I claim her mouth, slanting my lips over hers, licking and sucking until I stop coming. Then I freeze. “I forgot a condom again.” I’d worn one last night, but the night before, when I sleep-fucked her, I hadn’t worn one, and now I did it again. As horrible as it sounds, I subconsciously must want her to get pregnant, to bind her to me.

“It’s okay.” She tucks her face into my neck, still recovering her breath. “You can’t get me pregnant.”

Relief pours through me. Well, mostly relief. Maybe with ten percent disappointment. She must be on the pill. Strange, but I hadn’t smelled it the way I can smell it on a human female.

Her stomach rumbles.

“Baby, you’re hungry,” I chide. I ease out of her and lower her feet to the floor. “Let’s go get some dinner.”

She stands still and I look up from where I’d bent to pick up my towel.

“Sedona. Fuck.” I stalk back to her, wrapping the towel around my waist. “Did I hurt you? I was way too rough. I’m sorry, ángel.”

She reaches for me, which nearly floors me with relief. Wraps her arms around my neck and lets me hold her. “I like it when you’re rough,” she murmurs against my ear. Her body is trembling, though, and I feel like the biggest ass for fucking her and then dropping her to the floor while I wipe off my dick.

I hold her, stroking her back, burying my face in her thick glossy hair. I’m replaying the scene, trying to figure out if something went wrong, or if she just needs a moment of aftercare when she says, “You owe me a pair of panties, though.”

I bark a laugh.

“And I’m still wearing this dress out.”

I groan. “Okay, muñeca, wear the dress. But you’ll be held responsible for all the men whose faces meet my knuckles when they ogle you.”

She lets go of me and I reluctantly step back. “You’ll behave.” She sounds like she believes it, which makes me vow to meet her expectations. Even if it fucking kills me.

~.~

Sedona

I didn’t lie. Not exactly.

He can’t get me pregnant because I already am.

My insides swim around with the misdirection and all the issues I’ve avoided examining come slamming back into me.

It won’t be long before he scents the change in hormones on me. Before my body starts to change to accommodate the new life within me. Our pup.

What will it mean to him?

I don’t even know what it means to me.

Fates, this entire trip to Europe wasn’t to heal, it was a last ditch effort to spread my wings before I’m saddled with a child. I’ve been pretending that child doesn’t exist, pretending none of my problems exist while I get my rah-rahs out seeing famous art and getting sexed against the wall by a libidinous werewolf.

But I’m going to have to face the music soon. Either I lose Carlos soon and try to keep this pregnancy from him or we stick together and he’ll find out on his own in the next week or two.

Then what?

If he’s already gone overboard to protect me on this trip, what do I think he’ll do when he knows I’m carrying his pup? Do I really believe he’ll ever leave my side?

What did Garrett say? It would take an entire pack to keep him away.

I slip on a new pair of panties and smooth the skirt of the dress back down as Carlos gets dressed.

He’s looking over at me like he knows something’s going on in my head and it worries him. He pays attention, I’ll give him that. Moments like these I wish he’d pay a little less attention.

No, that’s not true.

Carlos escorts me out and we walk down to Las Ramblas again and find an open-air restaurant where we can watch all the activity on the tree-lined street.

I’m sore and used in all the right places, but I know it will fade within the next hour, so I savor every twinge and pulse.

Carlos orders a bottle of wine after consulting me on my preferences. When it comes, I take a sip, but even if I’d wanted to drink alcohol, I can’t. My body totally refuses it. I can barely choke down one sip.

After we order our food, Carlos asks, “What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours, Sedona? You’re too quiet.”

I shake my head. “Nothing. Just trying not to think about what comes next with us.”

His expression turns grave. He stares a hole through me and I can’t breathe. “Now I’m trying not to ask you what you’re trying not to think about.”

I give a short laugh, grateful for his ability to be so real with me. For it to be this easy to talk about something so hard.

The waiter brings our food and I tuck in, devouring my meal like I haven’t eaten in a week. I hope this isn’t the start of pregnancy cravings, because I don’t want to spend the next nine months eating everything in sight.

Ugh. And now I’m thinking about the pregnancy again. Not that I ever stopped.

I look out onto the pedestrian thoroughfare at a pair of musicians who just started up and Carlos follows my line of sight. He chokes on his wine and I look over, amused.

“Everything okay over there?”

He dabs his lips with his napkin. “Yes. I’m going to use the restroom, muñeca. I’ll be back in just a moment.”

It takes about thirty seconds for it to sink into my brain that he didn’t head in the direction of the restrooms, he headed toward the exit.

My instincts roar to life, hairs standing up at the back of my neck, vision tunneling like I need to shift and run. But what is the danger? I look around, and catch sight of Carlos out on La Rambla, talking with…

Oh fuck no.

It’s one of the council members. I’d remember that old son-of-a-bitch anywhere. He’s one of the two males who met the traffickers at the gate.

I throw some Euros on the table and get up, marching out of the restaurant. I’m so focused on Carlos and the council member, I don’t see a group of young men coming until they bump into me. Something pricks my arm and I nearly lose my balance, but one of them catches me. They are laughing and talking in Spanish—no, not Spanish—Catalan, the first language in Barcelona. One of them holds my elbow and says something friendly to me, but I shake them off, still barreling toward Carlos.

When I go to wipe away the stinging on my arm, my hand comes away bloody.

It’s nothing, but it adds fuel to my fury and sense of violation. A fury which Carlos is about to get the full brunt of.

~.~

Carlos

Don Santiago is here in Barcelona.

I’m ready to pound him into the ground. I don’t know what his game is, but I intend to find out. Now.

If we weren’t in a public place, I would already have his throat in my hand.

“Relax, mijo—Don Carlos—I’m not spying on you, as you say. I had business to attend to here and I thought it would be a good time for a visit.”

“Bullshit.”

Don Santiago hasn’t wiped his indulgently amused expression off his face yet and I’m about ready to do so with my fist. “Bueno. You’re right. The council has a stake in how you’re doing here with your female. I came to see if I could be of service.”

“Of service?” It takes all my effort not to shout the words. “What, are you going to send a mango and wine to our hotel room? Help get us in the mood?”

Don Santiago folds his arms over his chest. “Do I need to?”

I clench my fists so hard my nails dig into my palms.

“Is she pregnant yet?”

Don Santiago looks over my shoulder at the same moment I catch Sedona’s scent.

Carajo!

I whirl, but it’s too late. She heard.

Her face is pale as snow, but fury blazes in her eyes.

“Sedona—this isn’t what you think.”

She’s already turned away from me, walking with purposeful strides in the direction of our hotel.

“Sedona—wait! Let me explain.” I chase after her. I stop myself just before I reach for her, because I’m sure she will deck me if I lay a hand on her. I opt for matching her stride, instead. “I don’t know why he’s here. I didn’t know he was coming. Listen to me.”

“No.” She stops and throws a hand out against my chest, halting me, too. “I don’t have to listen to you. In fact, I can’t. I won’t. I heard what he wants. Whether you claim to be innocent in your council’s dirty little plan or not, you’re a part of it. And that means I’m out.” She starts walking again.

“Fuck!” I can’t help cursing out loud before I pick up my pace beside her. “That’s not what—”

Except it is. She nailed it. I can’t argue with her take on what’s going down.

“Sedona, I’m not here to get you pregnant. I don’t see you as a prize. I came because I couldn’t stay away. I wanted to honor your request for space, but… I just couldn’t.”

“Well you’re going to have to,” she snaps. “Because I’m done.”

She’s done with me.

Her words drive a spike straight through my gut.

I slow my steps, let her advance without me. I’m not going to convince her to be with me by continuing to disrespect her wishes.

She doesn’t even glance back, still marching on toward the hotel. My chest feels like it’s been crushed by a hundred pound weight. I sag against the side of a building, hardly able to drag breath into my lungs.

She’s right. Our problems are insurmountable. She’ll never be able to forget what the council did to her and I am part of that horror. How could I even have hoped to bring her back with me?

The idea is ludicrous. It would only ruin her, like Monte Lobo ruined my mother. All her light would go out, she’d die a little more every day until she was either crazy, like my mother, or nothing but a shell.

Maybe if I had another plan to offer her. A different pack, another option. Maybe if I was willing to leave my pack, live with hers. But I can’t abandon mine. My absence is part of the reason everything’s fucked there. The pack needs me.

No, if I care about Sedona—truly care—and I do, then the only right thing is let her walk away.

Even if it means my chest caves in from the weight on it.

~.~

Sedona

I sense the second Carlos drops back and lets me go.

I know I should consider it a gift, but it wounds me as much as his deception. I march forward toward the hotel, refusing to look back. I don’t want to see his expression. Don’t want to think about what he’s feeling now.

Is she pregnant yet?

I can’t fucking believe his council is here monitoring us still. Have they been watching everything? Our meeting in Tucson? Paris? I hate them. I really do. I hate them with a bitterness that runs so deep I might drown in it.

But no. This anger is the other side of the coin to being a victim. Which I’d decided not to be.

They don’t control me. They’re not going to shape my life or my future. They’re especially not going to shape my pup’s future.

I run up to our hotel room and throw my things in my suitcase. I’m going home. Maybe I’m running scared. Yeah, I am running scared. But I have more than my own safety to consider. I have the safety of my baby.

And seeing that council member here shook me up. Badly. Every hair on my arms stands up as I replay the scene. He was watching us.

I may have thought I escaped when I left Mexico, but I didn’t. They’re still here with me.

And they still believe I’m their breeder.

Tears blur my vision as I grab my suitcase and head out of the hotel room. I half expect Carlos to be standing outside the room, or downstairs in the lobby, or on the sidewalk outside the hotel, but he’s not. No one stops me when I hail a cab and ask for the airport.

I know there’s a chance I won’t find any flights out at this time of night, but I don’t give a crap. Every cell in my body screams for me to get out of here, fast. I need to get back to my family. To my pack, who will protect me.

Carlos can’t be trusted. I don’t even know if I can believe anything he said, anything that happened between us. It could have all been a fabrication to get me pregnant.

I’m glad now I didn’t tell him.

There’s a chance he’s just as evil as his council.

That thought hurts worse than any other. To believe Carlos duped me or played me, that he never cared, leaves me clutching my chest to rid the searing pain.

I want to believe his feelings were real. But it’s not enough. He may have a biological need to be near me and protect me because he’s marked me, but it doesn’t mean he loves me. It doesn’t mean we’re well-suited as mates.

I was vulnerable and I read too much into his attention but I need to harden myself now.

For my pup’s sake.

~.~

Council Elder

I snap open the tiny vial of blood and inhale deeply.

Good. The American is pregnant. I had a few humans bump into her and get a blood sample. It isn’t enough for a lab test, but I can tell by the scent.

Carlos is no longer needed. If he gives us any more trouble, we’ll kill him off faster than he can whine don’t call me mijo.

And now I have his female’s DNA too. Perfect for my gene manipulation tests. Soon I’ll have harvested samples from every specimen of shifter on Earth. Enough to build a comprehensive DNA workup and determine the factors that improve or limit the ability to shift, to heal, to reproduce.

What happened in my pack will never have to happen again, because I’ll be able to manipulate genes to create super-wolves, splicing in not only the best traits from werewolves, but also from other shifters.

I walk through the warehouse with a clipboard and match each species with their blood sample data. A tiger throws itself against the metal bars, snarling at me as I stand in front of him.

“This one is beautiful. Where did you find him?” I ask Aleix.

“Bought him from an Iranian, but he comes from Turkey.”

“A Caspian tiger? Very rare find. The animal counterpart is extinct. Good work. I’ll pay a hefty bonus for this one.”

“I’m counting on it.” Aleix folds his arms across his chest. He wants me to pay up now. I’ve made him and his brother Ferran extremely wealthy over the past ten years. They don’t participate in any of the hunting of shifters—only the purchasing and storage, the blood draws and lab workups. Aleix is the businessman, Ferran is the bioscientist.

They wouldn’t be in for any of this, except I’ve promised to cure their sister of the genetic disease causing her to slowly waste away. The truth is, I could’ve cured her years ago, but I know as soon as I do, Aleix and Ferran will fold and they’re too valuable to me. Better to keep them working, seeking answers.

The Harvester needs his henchmen.