My mother toddles away on Maria Jose’s arm, but Juanito scuttles over to me. “Don Carlos,” he says in a low, urgent tone. He looks around like he’s afraid of being seen, and I have no doubt someone is watching, somewhere.
I grip his arm and tug him into the shadows. “Qué cosa?”
“The Americans are here to rescue your female. El consejo-”
The bell in the bell tower starts to toll, signaling the pack of danger. Don Santiago enters. Something about the timing of his appearance seems deliberate. “There you are.” His voice is smooth as caramel. “We have a problem. Three large vans breached the outer gate. Prepare to fight for your female.”
Ice flushes through my veins as I see their plan. They’re banking on my strength to fend off these enemies they brought onto our pack. My mind races. I don’t even know where my female is, and I’m sure as hell not going to fight her family for her. That will not inure the beautiful American to me. With a calmness I don’t feel, I squeeze Juanito’s shoulder. “Run and grab me a shirt, Juanito. I’ll be right behind you.” I turn to Jose. “Gather the males of the pack and tell them to meet on the terrace.” I infuse alpha authority into my voice, even though I know full well my orders mean nothing to this man. The council has been running me now for years. I run up the stairs and meet Juanito at the top, carrying my shirt. I grab it from him and pull it on as I murmur in a low voice. “Where is my female, Juanito?”
“Locked in a guest room in the east wing, Don Carlos.”
“Can you find a way to set her free?”
“I-I don’t know, sir.” Juanito is a smart kid, I know he’ll figure it out.
“I need you to try. Let her out and take her out to her people through the lower gate. Don’t let anyone see you. The future of this pack depends on you, my friend.”
Juanito’s lowered eyes jerk up to mine and I watch honor fill his being. “Yes, sir.” He slips away, quiet and invisible as a ghost.
I head out to the terrace, where the men of our pack are gathering, in from the mines and the fields, watching the white vans wind up the mountain toward the citadel. “We will defend our pack, if necessary, but there will be no violence without a cue from me, understood?” I use every bit of alpha power in my voice, making it boom and project confidence, leadership. The trouble is, these males have never fought with me before, never taken my orders.
Most of them are old. The only younger male shifter in the pack besides myself was Juanito’s brother, Mauca, but he disappeared last year. Ran away, is what they said, but I know Juanito and Maria Jose don’t believe that. There aren’t many other male shifters under the age of fifty, except the defectuosos. They are here, though, armed with machetes, ready to fight as men.
Guillermo, the big wolf who runs the mines is here, along with his men. I can count on them to defend the pack, if it comes to that.
Don Santiago and the rest of the council are here, but they are not preparing to fight. No, they are setting up as if to watch a football match. Granted, they are all over seventy, but shifters live long lives and heal quickly. I think they play the privilege card and the elderly card far too often. As I look at their self-satisfied faces, I want to beat the righteousness out of every one of them.
And what better diversion? Especially with an audience. It’s time to establish exactly who is alpha in this pack. A growl rips from my throat as I stalk over. I grab the first one I get to-Don Mateo-and grasp him by the throat. My fingers wrap right around his chicken neck and I lift him from the ground. “You brought this attack on our pack,” I roar. “You and the rest of the council.”
“Put him down,” Don Jose snarls. He uses his usual superior command, but it falls flat in the face of alpha rage. He turns to the pack. “The boy has inherited some of his mother’s lunacy.”
Oh, fuck no. Of course they’d try that tactic. Make me look insane.
I look around at the council. They might treat me like a treasured pup, but these aren’t the grandfatherly men who raised me. These are powerful wolves. “You purchased a female-an American-stolen from her pack by traffickers. What did you think would happen?”
Don Santiago goes for a smug, unruffled tone. “We thought you would claim her, and we were correct.”
Don Mateo’s face turns red as he struggles to drag in gurgling breaths. His feet kick out uselessly. The men of the pack move in close, crowding around us, but no one-including the other elders-physically challenges me. Together, they could take me down, but not without a lot of bloodshed.
“You locked me in my own dungeon. Disrespected your alpha. Do you think that deed will go unpunished?”
Mateo’s eyes bulge. If I don’t release him soon, he’ll die.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Guillermo step forward. The burly wolf isn’t high in the pack, but with his miners behind him, they could overpower me. If the council gave the order, I could be dead, and my mother with me. I’m surrounded by the pack I’m supposed to lead, and I don’t know who I can trust.
“Tranquilo, Carlos. It was not out of disrespect, but out of love. We provided you with a prize worthy of an alpha like you,” Don Santiago placates.
I drop Mateo not because I’m playing good little alpha for the council, but as much as I’d like to kill him and all the dons, I’m not a murderer. Whirling to face Don Santiago, I let out a ferocious growl. Every wolf around me drops his eyes and shows his throat in submission.