He'll forget his fury because his mother will require all the gentleness he has inside him."
"That's not much of a plan," Mateo says.
"By the time he finds his female again, she'll be locked in a guest room, dressed in fine robes and being treated like royalty. He'll have no cause to punish us for our means, as he'll be pleased with the result-a beautiful prize for a strong alpha. Just what this pack has needed. Of course, we'll humbly beg his forgiveness."
I narrow my eyes. "It's risky. What if he lets her go?" Although I was the one who the traffickers notified when they kidnapped the American she-wolf, the idea to imprison her with our alpha was Don Jose's. I would have preferred in vitro fertilization. To use the girl as a breeder for the entire pack. A science experiment. We can't depend on nature or animal nature to keep the pack healthy.
"If he marks her, he won't be able to let her go. Biology will take its course, just as it will tonight."
"You're sure of it." I say it more like a statement than a question.
"Yes."
Juanito, a nine-year-old servant, arrives with the water I instructed him to fetch. He's a slight risk, because he's Carlos' favorite, but that's also why I picked him. We need someone to deliver food and drink to the couple, and I don't trust Carlos not to tear off the hand that goes through the window. He won't hurt the boy, though. There's too much goodness in him. Just like his father.
Which was why we had to get rid of him.
~.~
Sedona
Carlos paces away from me and I register the loss of his closeness like a plant deprived of water. Which pisses me off. I don't want to be so turned on by the dark, brooding, mostly naked alpha stalking around our cell. Even if he is made of solid muscle so sculpted he could be a bodybuilder. I watch him, fascinated. His chest is hairless and a tattoo covers his left shoulder and biceps, some sort of geometric pattern. A second tattoo covers his right biceps.
I've never had such a strong reaction to any male-human or shifter. But then again, I've never been chained with my naked body on full display for a male, either.
I replay the scene where he held me down to make me stop pulling on my manacles. He moved lightning-fast, pouncing over me, pinning me to the bed. For one second, I thought he was going to kiss me. Damn. He has neatly trimmed facial hair. What would it feel like against my skin?
What would it be like to have my wrists pinioned over my head by him while he plowed into me? To have all that command and power focused on me. Would he make it hurt? Or is he a tender lover?
Even though his high-handedness annoyed me, he was right to stop me. My wrists are already bruised from where I pulled and the silliest part of me loves that he flexed his will for my own good. It's what a good alpha should do.
A square window at the base of the heavy door slides back and a small hand pushes a plastic tumbler through.
Carlos springs into action, diving for it, but instead of taking the tumbler, he grabs the wrist delivering it.
"Ay!" The cry of pain from the other side sounds distinctly childlike.
Carlos curses. "Juanito?"
"Perdóname, Don Carlos." The boy sounds like he's about to cry.
Carlos lets out a string of Spanish curses, many of which I recognize. He demands something in Spanish but the boy only answers with a sniffle. Carlos releases his wrist and says something in more soothing tones. The small hand folds up and bumps Carlos' fist before it retreats. Carlos picks up the tumbler of water and stalks toward me. A tightly-leashed fury radiates from him, which I find oddly attractive. But yeah, I was raised by a dominant, generally pissed-off alpha wolf, so I guess that would be my male ideal. It actually makes sense why no other male has caught my interest until now. My wolf only shows her belly to a true alpha.
Great. I hope there's therapy for this, because the last thing I need is another big shot male telling me what to do. I already have an over-protective father and brother for that.
I watch his muscles ripple as he walks to the side of the bed.
"They send a boy with the water because they know I won't hurt him. Chingada bola de pendejos."
"Who is the boy?" I'm thinking he's a relative of Carlos.
"A servant."
"Don't they have child labor laws in Mexico?"
Carlos' expression darkens even more. "I know. My pack is... archaic. They-we"- his voice takes on a bitter tone- "live in a different era. The weak serve the strong. And they're kept weak by design. Congress or commerce with outsiders is forbidden, technology and media is not allowed, nor do we even trade with other packs. Only the council and myself are exempt from all these rules."
Water sloshes over the lip of the purple plastic tumbler. With far greater finesse than he showed when he tried to cover me with his shirt, he slides a hand behind my head and lifts it to meet the cup. I guzzle down half the water, not even caring that some of it dribbles down my chin. "Thank you," I gasp when I'm finished.
"If you don't approve, why don't you change things?"
A muscle in his jaw jumps. "I am-I will. It's a fight-always a fight against the council. But I will."
I accept another sip of water from the tumbler.
Carlos stares down at me with glittering dark eyes. "I don't even know your name."
"Sedona."
He raises a brow. "Like the city?"