It's indicative of how little power Carlos has here that we call him the boy rather than the alpha. But we need to be careful. He's angry with us now, which may cause unforeseen ripples. I would have preferred a much simpler plan with in vitro fertilization procedures.
"I think Carlos may be more valiant than selfish." I pace the room. "He may have wanted to spare our pack's blood."
"Or his own," Don Mauricio says drily.
"No. He's not a coward. The boy is intelligent." He is my great-nephew after all. "His American business college taught him to strategize. He made the best decision he knew how to protect both the girl and the pack. Don't think he won't go after her when the dust settles."
"Do you know which servant set her free? Juanito?" Don Jose asks.
"Yes, but leave it. Carlos will protect him from punishment and we don't want to anger the alpha any more. If the only pack member in his corner is a nine-year-old boy and a crazy mother, we could do worse."
The men around the table chuckle with me.
"I'll take Carlos to the traffickers. Let him win this round. He's had his say and his way. He'll go after the female and bring her back, hopefully pregnant with his young."
"How can you be sure?"
I lift my shoulders. "He's an alpha male at the peak of virility. His wolf will demand he be near her."
"And if he chooses to stay away?" Don Mateo asks.
I smile. "All the better. We only need his young."
And I would love to keep his body for experimentation.
Carlos
I sit in my mother's bedroom and watch her move around the breakfast food on the tray in front of her. Her eyes are glassy, face pale. It's been three interminable days since Sedona left. Three days, one hour and forty-three minutes, to be exact.
Maria Jose, Juanito's mother, pours me a fresh cup of coffee, milky and smooth. I love the coffee grown here on our mountain. I've been drinking it since I was a pup. It's mild enough I can drink it all day long.
"When is your father coming in?" my mother asks me.
My chest tightens, as it always does when she forgets he's dead.
"He's gone, Mamá. It's just me now."
I see a flicker of terror in her eyes before it fades and she bends her head to her buttered bread.
"I... found a female, Mamá." I surprise myself. I didn't expect to talk about Sedona, but she's occupying every part of my mind. My mother doesn't understand what I'm saying half the time, but she does now.
She lifts her head and stares at me.
"She's American. Her name is Sedona. Very beautiful." Beautiful doesn't do her justice. Exquisite. Mind-blowing. A perfect ten. She's magical.
My mother stands up as if Sedona is here and I jump to my feet and put a hand on her shoulder, gently pressing her back into her chair. "She's not here now, Mamá." I sit again and pick up my coffee cup, staring into it as I swirl the contents. "I don't know if she'll come back, actually." There. I admitted it. The dreadful truth I don't want to even look at. "She didn't want to be mated."
To my horror, tears spring into my mother's eyes and her lips begin to tremble. "I didn't want to, either," she says.
Oh fates. Why did I open this can of worms?
"I know, Mamá. That's why I would never ask her to stay if she doesn't want to be here."
Tears fall freely from my mother's chocolate brown eyes onto the breakfast tray. "Why can't I go home?" she wails.
"Mamá." I reach across the little table and cover her hand with mine. "Because we can take better care of you here. And I need you-your son," I say, in case she's forgotten who I am. "Carlos needs you."
She breaks into a sob. Fuck. I shove my chair back and walk around to put my arm across her shoulders. "Carlitos." She moans my name like a lament. "My only son."
My mother had five other pregnancies, but no others came to term. And I've been gone all these years., leaving her alone with a pack she never felt was hers. I'm a terrible son.
I look over at Maria Jose for help and she immediately comes forward. "It's all right Doña Carmelita. You're just sad because you haven't had your pills yet today." She picks up a little cup of prescription medications from the tray and shakes them so they rattle around. "Take these and you'll feel better."
My mother shoves them away, scattering the pills on the floor and Maria Jose drops to her knees to collect them. I help her.
"Does she usually take them willingly?"
Maria Jose shrugs. "Sometimes. I never know how she will be."
"What happens when she won't take them?"
"I hide them in her food if I can. If not, they have shots I can give her, but she hates that."
I drop the pills I collected back in the cup Maria Jose holds. "Thank you." I catch her eye and hold it. "You've taken care of her for all these years. I am grateful to you."
"Don Carlos…" Maria Jose glances toward the door, then back to me.
"Yes?"
"What if…" She draws in a breath. The fingers gripping the cup of pills turn white with tension. "What if these aren't what she needs?"
I stare at her, trying to understand what she's saying. "You think they're the wrong meds for her? They do more harm than good?"
She bobs her head. "Maybe there's a way… you could check?" She darts a glance at the door again.
"I'll ask Don Santiago," I say, moving toward the door. Don Santiago, my grandfather's brother, has a Ph. D. in biochemistry. He's not exactly a doctor, but he acts as the medical consultant to the pack.