She sucks in her breath, staring at me with wide eyes.
“You are the prize above all other prizes, and I got to you first,” I say through gritted teeth. It’s wrong, but what I’m saying feels so right. Passion blazes bright in my chest, flowing down my limbs. “You belong to me. I’ve taken you. I will never let you go. And I’m not sorry. You are perfect in every way. Smart, talented, beautiful.” I manage to pry my fist open to touch her cheek. “Funny. You are the light to my darkness. You brought me to life. All these years, I’ve been half-dead. It was the only way to survive the pain of my mother’s illness, my father’s death. The heaviness that belongs to my pack. But you-you sparked me back to life. And for that I cannot be sorry. I cannot. So I beg your forgiveness. I do. But I could never regret claiming you. Not in this lifetime, or any other.”
Sedona’s lips tremble. I have no idea what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling. Whether she’s scared of me or wants to cut my balls off. I didn’t lie. I told her the goddamn truth, and if that makes her hate me forever, so be it. At least she knows.
If I weren’t so out of my mind, I would have registered the sound behind me sooner. The door opens. Sedona jerks in fear and a sharp stab lands between my shoulder blades. The last thing I see is a dart land in my female’s chest before we both crumple to the floor.
Carlos
I wake in my bedroom. The scent of Sedona is still in my nostrils and I reach for her, but my arms come up empty. The memory of seeing her last returns and I bolt upright with a gasp.
Sedona. Where is my female? The urgency to find her, protect her, nearly makes me shift. If those motherfuckers laid one finger on my female, I will rip them to shreds. I don’t care if I’m banished forever from this pack. Even if it means leaving my poor mother. I will not stand by and let my female be mistreated.
I surge from the bed and throw on a pair of pajama pants before pounding toward the door. A light but rapid tap sounds on it. The door pushes open before I can say pásale.
Juanito bursts in. “Don Carlos, It’s your mother. She’s having a fit. Come quickly.”
Screams reach my ears.
“Déjame!” my mother’s raw voice echoes in the center courtyard. Leave me. Sedona’s fading scent clings to me as I run out and look down into my mother’s garden, the center courtyard the hacienda is built around. Mamá paces alone, her skirts aflutter. The servants huddle at the edges of the garden. She turns in a circle, long grey hair flying. Sweat drips down her face, her eyes are wild.
“Mamá!” I run for the marble stairs and take them two at a time.
My mother doesn’t seem to even hear me. She’s babbling something, as if arguing with demons or ghosts. She tears at her nightdress. “Déjame sola!”
“Mamá!” I reach her and grip her arms, trying to get her wild focus to settle on my face. I don’t succeed. She pulls to get away from me. Tears streak her face, once lovely, now sallow with dark circles under her eyes.
I could overpower her, of course, but I can’t bring myself to manhandle my mother. “Mamá, it’s all a dream. None of it is real. Look at me. Your son. Look at Carlos.”
“Carlos?” Her voice rings with panic. “Where’s Carlitos? What have they done with my little boy? They want to kill him, too.”
“No, Mamá, I’m right here-Carlos-Carlitos-all grown up. Look at me.”
Her unsteady gaze wavers around the courtyard and skips around my face. She reaches out to touch it, her brow wrinkling. “Carlos?”
“Si, Mamá, I’m right here.”
She grabs my hand and tries to pull me further into the center of the garden. “Hurry, Carlos. We have to run. Before they get you, too. Every alpha is in danger.”
I don’t move, forcing her to shift her grip to two hands and tug with all her might. “No, I’m not in danger. I can defend myself. And you. We’re safe, I promise. Come-this way.” I wrap my palm around hers. “Let’s go to your room.”
Her eyes widen. “My prison, you mean?” She shakes her head wildly. “That’s where they want to keep me quiet. I don’t want to go there. I want to leave, Carlos. Take me away from this place.”
Pain rips through my chest. Should I find a way to send her back to her own pack? She still hates it here after all these years. But would they even take her? A crazy woman who requires full-time care? Would they provide the level of treatment she requires? I’ve never met anyone from Mamá’s old pack, or any pack other than my own. I feel the wrongness of that deep into my bones. I should’ve done it when my father died. Not ten years later. My head aches with the weight of my guilt, my responsibility.
“Okay, I’ll take you away from here,” I promise, praying I can keep my word. “But I need time to figure out where and how. So let’s get you back to your bedroom-”
“Not my bedroom!” she shrieks. “Not there! Don’t take me there, Carlos.” She’s suddenly weeping, like she’s the child and I’m the parent.
I pull her against my chest and stroke her tangled hair. “Okay, not your bedroom,” I agree. I look around desperately, trying to figure out what else to do with her. “How about a walk in the outer garden with Maria Jose?” I make eye contact with Juanito’s mother, Mamá’s servant, and nod.
Maria Jose approaches slowly.
My mother sniffs and pulls away, nodding. “Sí.”
My shoulders sag. I tug her hand in Maria Jose’s direction. “Maria will keep you safe, Mamá. I’ll see you after your walk, all right? I’ll see you for breakfast.”
After I find Sedona.