"No!" Maria Jose grabs my arm, the whites of her eyes flash with panic. She immediately releases my arm, no doubt realizing how inappropriate it is for her to grab an alpha. Ducking her head, she tilts the cup of pills back and forth with a shaky hand. "Someone else," she whispers. "Not from the pack. Take her to the city. To America. Don't ask Don Santiago."
My skin prickles with what she's not saying. It's my turn to grip her. I grasp both her upper arms and squeeze until she looks up. "Why shouldn't I ask Don Santiago?" There's menace in my voice. I don't mean it toward her, but my aggression comes out at the suggestion that the wolf treating my mother might not be trustworthy.
Poor Maria Jose twists in my grasp. "Please, señor. It's nothing. Forget what I said. I beg you."
"No, Maria Jose. Tell me. You think I should ask someone besides Don Santiago. Why?"
Maria Jose blinks rapidly, still shifting against my grasp on her. I ease my clenched fingers, fearing I bruised her. "I am stupid," she mutters, but it sounds more to herself than to me. "I meant nothing by it. Do not consider the words of an idiot servant." She yanks again against my grasp and this time I let her go.
Ropes of unease twist in my stomach. There's something going on here I don't like. Not at all.
I watch, my mind whirling as Maria Jose coaxes my mother, docile now, into taking her pills. I consider my options. Wolves don't generally require a doctor's care, as we heal quickly and rarely suffer disease, but there may be some kind of shifter physician in the United States. I just don't know.
I kiss my mother on the head and leave for my room, which doubles as my office. In the days since Sedona left, I've been making lists and rearranging the plans and ideas I had for the growth and modernization of Monte Lobo. Most of it requires money, which means I need to investigate the finances of the pack, figure out what we have available to spend. The trouble is, I've asked the council for the accounting five times and have yet to receive anything.
I also haven't decided what to do about the damn council. I need to strip them of some of their power, punish their actions against me. But before I do that, I need to truly understand all the dynamics afoot here. I don't have any support from the pack members, and why should I? I haven't been here to lead them. And without the pack, with the council calling me as crazy as my mother, I could easily wind up in that fucking cell again. Or dead. But that part doesn't worry me. It's thoughts of my mother's safety that has me cautious. The council can be vicious-I've seen it before.
I remember once, as a boy, smelling the blood from their meeting room as they called pack members in for untold crimes. There was secrecy and fear to the proceedings. Whispers and terror. My father had been away. When he came back, I remember him shouting at the council, arguing with them for hours, but nothing happened.
Had he been as ineffectual as I am against them? Why? How long has this form of pack rule been in place on Monte Lobo? Because it sure as hell isn't wolf nature. No other packs in the world are run this way, as far as I know.
But just because things have always been this way doesn't mean I can't change them. I just need to be smart. Have a plan.
I rub my face as I walk to my room. It's the master suite of the hacienda, the room that used to belong to my parents. They gave it to me when I returned as an empty symbol of my alpha status.
I stand at the window and stare out. It's hard to get my brain to focus on anything besides Sedona. I still imagine I smell her on my fingers, taste her on my tongue. The image of her smile, her lovely long legs, that perfect body, plays in front of my eyes over and over again.
I hear her husky voice. Dream of claiming her over and over again, all night long. My days are an endless torture of Sedona memories.
And I can't stand that I haven't even spoken to her since she left. I don't even know her last name. Her phone number. Her address. But it's better this way. What would I say, after all? I'm sorry my pack held you prisoner. I never want to do that to you, so have a nice life?
I sigh and stab my fingers through my hair.
A knock sounds at my door. "Come in."
Don Santiago opens the door and saunters in.
I turn back to the window. "When will you produce the traffickers?"
"I can't get them by phone. It's possible the Americans already took care of them. I have the address of their warehouse if you want to check it out."
I'm both surprised and suspicious by this offer. Why wasn't it made initially?
"Where is it?"
"In el D. F." Mexico City. That tracks with what Sedona told me.
"When will you look in on your female?"
I jerk around, surprised by the assumption in the question.
"If she's pregnant, you'll have to take responsibility for the child."
Pregnant. I'm sure the blood drains from my face. Why hadn't I considered the possibility? Sedona could be carrying my pup right now. She may need me. These past few days I thought I was doing her a favor by staying away, but what if I'm actually not owning up to my duty to her? If she's carrying my child, I owe her my support, my protection.