by Hettie Ivers
Huh?
“What?” my brother asked.
“Bethany,” Alex said. “Don’t go there, man.”
Ew!
Raul huffed. “That a joke?”
“No,” Alex answered matter-of-factly. “I don’t think Milena would approve.”
“What the—oh, fuck this, you know what? How about we agree not to speak at all until Miles wakes up?”
“Raul, your eyes land on Bethany’s ass every time she—”
“You and I aren’t friends,” Raul growled. “Don’t patronize me with your bullshit disingenuous small talk like we’re gonna sit here and fucking bond, because you’re terrible at it.”
“Fine,” Alex sighed, and briefly they fell silent once more.
“I love her, Raul,” Alex confessed solemnly when he next spoke. “More than I imagined I could ever love—”
“You don’t get to waltz off into the sunset with my kid sister after the way you treated me! She doesn’t belong with you, and she never will. She’s known you for two goddamned weeks. She’s my family.”
“You gave her up.”
“To protect her!”
“Which,” Alex muttered under his breath, “we’ve established, you suck at …”
“I’m the one she came to Brazil looking for, not you. I’m the family she spent the last nine years missing. And I’ll be the family she comes running to when you’ve fucked things up by this time next week.”
“I’m not going to fuck this up, Raul. I love her too much.”
“Take the needle out.”
“I won’t fuck up with her. I promise.”
“You will fuck up. Take the needle out; it was time two minutes ago.”
Alex carefully removed the needle from my arm. “Raul, my offer still—”
“Fuck your offer,” Raul spurned, stomping away. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I rejoin your pack.”
“I’m sorry,” Alex said as he cleaned and changed the bandage over my heart. “This is my fault.” I knew he was talking about Raul as well as my injury. And I wanted to tell him that neither were his fault.
“You’ll feel better soon,” he told me as he cuddled up next to me, spooning me from behind. “Bianca says you’ll wake up by morning and be fully recovered no later than tomorrow night.”
* * *
Bianca was wrong. I woke up later that same night. And then I woke Alex up to celebrate being alive.
The next day, I was well enough to get out of bed, shower, and get dressed. And there wasn’t even a scar to be found anywhere on my chest. I was also well enough to resume Alex’s argument with Raul over my future for myself when Raul came to visit with me.
“He can’t make you happy. It’s not possible. This is just a crush. Infatuation.”
I groaned and flopped down onto Alex’s bed. Although I was exhausted from arguing in circles with my brother, it was actually going better than I’d expected. He seemed sufficiently annoyed with me, but not necessarily that angry—certainly nowhere near as incensed as he’d been the past few times we’d quarreled. He seemed calmer, more confident and in control—more like his old self.
“I think I know what a crush is, Raul. I’ve had crushes before. This isn’t the same thing.”
“Miles, I can’t stomach the thought of you staying here under Alex’s thumb.”
“But it’s not like that! I told you, I love Alex.”
“You can’t say that when you’ve only known him for two weeks!”
“I know it sounds crazy, but I can say it. I do love him.”
“You don’t. Come away with me to Argentina for a little while. Take some space from him. See if this mating bond thing is real or not. He’s constantly all over you. It’s not normal, or healthy. It’s gross,” he mumbled to himself, pacing the floor of Alex’s bedroom.
“Oh, so you’d prefer to see me under Gabriel Salvatella’s thumb? Like you?”
“I’m not under Gabe’s thumb.”
“No? Sure looks that way to me. Gabriel’s using you; can’t you see that?”
“Of course he’s using me.” Raul spun around to face me. “And I’m using him.”
“What?”
“This is how the world works.” He threw his arms wide. “Everybody uses everybody else. It’s what the most honest relationships are built upon. Gabe wants my power on his side. In exchange, he’s teaching me things. As long as he views me as a nonthreatening minion under his control, I’ll continue to absorb all the knowledge I can. And slowly I’ll gain a foothold within his pack.”
“Are you kidding me?” I chose to set aside my brother’s disturbing cynicism in favor of attempting to reason the obvious. “Raul, you’re not one of them! You and I”—I motioned between us—“we’re not Salvatellas. Have you forgotten that we’re the descendants of the only Morales family member they failed to exterminate a hundred and forty-some years ago because they didn’t want our ancestors contaminating their precious bloodline?”
“Nope. I sure haven’t, little sis.” Raul smirked, and the calculating look I saw reflected in his eyes suddenly made me feel like I was facing off with Mateus.
I swallowed, growing confused by his change in behavior. “So then … what lofty position do you think they’re going to want to give you within their pack? Alex is willing to make you a higher-ranking beta. What has Gabriel offered you?”
He squinted and slanted his head at me for a moment, as if trying to determine if I was posing the question in earnest, before shaking his head. “Ah, Jesus, Miles …” Laughter rumbled up through Raul’s chest until his whole form was quaking with it. He scrubbed a hand over his amused countenance, still shaking his head at me. “You think I did all this hoping to be one of Gabe’s fucking betas one day? To be Alex’s?”
“I don’t … don’t understand …”
My admission only made him laugh harder as he told me, “You’re making Aunt Cely faces at me.”
“Raul! What’s going on? What are you talking about? Why are you acting this way?”
“What way? Oh, you mean normal?” He gave me a withering look. “Really, Miles? You thought turning werewolf turned me stupid? I told you to trust me. That’s all you had to do.”
What? I wasn’t following. My expression told him so.
Raul heaved a sigh and made himself comfortable, half-sitting, half-leaning against the edge of Alex’s dresser. “You do realize no one’s capable of entering my head or yours anymore without our control of the situation, right? We can actually talk in private for the first time.”
Ho-ly shit. It occurred to me that this was the first time we’d been able to converse without someone present—either physically present or interloping on our minds.
“Are you saying you haven’t been acting like yourself lately … on purpose?”
“Nuriel was Alpha before Gabe wrestled the position away from him,” he informed me rather than answer my question. “Did you know that?”
I shook my head.
“Gabe knew it was only a matter of time before his scheming brother would attempt to take the position back. Those two hated each other for most of their lives, as I understand it. I mean, c’mon, you couldn’t have missed how delighted Gabe was to see Nuriel melted like some wax-candle Nazi straight out of Raiders of the Lost Ark, right? No brotherly love lost there, I assure you.
“But Nahuel, you see”—Raul’s smile was one of triumph as he wagged our mom’s pointer finger at me—“Nahuel was the baby brother Nuriel and Gabe had both always cared about. Over the loss of Nahuel, they remained bonded. Enter some seemingly clueless American kid”—he gestured to himself—“who showed up seeking asylum from their worst enemy and offering firsthand knowledge of the niece they’d never known existed in addition to their baby brother’s murderer. Well, let’s just say it was more than sufficient incentive to get them to work together long enough to deliver Nuriel to Maribel, and to get me what I wanted. And that was all before I even told them about my Mo
rales heritage.”
The room felt like it was spinning, the walls closing in on me. “What—what you wanted?”
“I wanted your future safety secured, of course, first and foremost,” Raul said. “But I also needed your flawed Joaquin blood inheritance fixed”—his brow arched—“which was no small feat, as you know. And I needed more werelock magic—which I’m happy to report Maribel successfully transferred to me following Nuriel’s gratuitously gruesome demise.”
“What?” I gasped. “Nuriel’s power transferred to you?”
Maribel had transferred Nuriel’s power to him? Her words rang in my memory: “I’m someone who knows your brother far better than you do at this point. I guided Raul’s werewolf transformation, not Gabriel. I led him to seek out the Salvatella pack.”
Raul nodded, his grin stretching from ear to ear. “Can you believe it? I think I might even be able to teleport now. You know … once I figure it all out.”
“Oh, my God. How—how can you stand there smiling like you’ve won the supernatural lottery when Lupe’s dead because of—”
“Because of something Lupe wanted and agreed to long ago in exchange for freedom from her mating bond connection with Nahuel. I had no part in that agreement.” He held his hands up. “Before my time and yours. The reality is we all got what we wanted out of this.”
“Are you insane? What we wanted? What—how do you think Gabriel’s going to handle you inheriting his brother’s blood magic? You don’t think he’ll see you as a threat then? This isn’t a game, Raul; these people are dangerous, power-junkie killers.”
“Gabe’s no idiot, yes. But for now he’ll assume it was Joaquin’s blood curse—which was still active at the time—that did it, the same way Joaquin’s curse had been harvesting Salvatella power for our Morales’ benefit for well over a century. All the more reason he’ll be anxious to accommodate me and do whatever is necessary to keep me within his pack. Eventually, he’ll figure things out, sure. But by then I’ll be the Alpha of his pack, he’ll be out of the picture, and it won’t matter.”
“I can’t believe what you’re saying.” I couldn’t process it. And somehow my mind refused to accept the revelation of my brother’s conniving, supernatural power-grab efforts in all of this and instead continued to focus and fret over his safety first. “Gabriel reads emotions. There’s no way you’ve masked all of this from him. You’re in over your head.”
“For the times that he was in my mind, I had Maribel’s assistance to ensure that he saw my emotions the way that we wanted him to see them—confused, erratic, excessively jealous of you, butthurt and angry over Lessa and Alex. Not gonna lie, my anger for Alex and Lessa came pretty easily.” He raised a sardonic brow and gave me a tight smile. “Believe me, Gabe’s sufficiently snowed. You and I, Miles, we can rule this world together now. We’ll be unstoppable.”
I was speechless. But I heard myself say, “You’ve lost your mind,” as I arose from my seat on the bed and headed toward the door. I needed some space. Time. Fresh air.
“Miles, look, I know it wasn’t all pretty, and believe me, it was terrible not being able to communicate directly with you and explain things. I admit some plans went awry and didn’t go as contemplated.” He caught me by my shoulder and turned me to face him as my hand landed on the doorknob. His brown eyes were gentle, contrite. “But you had to have known I’d never really hurt Bethany, right? I’m sorry about that part, but I had to make things look legit. And I swear, you were never supposed to be harmed the way that you were by Felix. It was never meant to go down like that.”
Never meant to go down like that?
I no longer harbored a revenge curse, but I still had an inner super-beast, and I felt myself having to battle my own wolf’s demand to submit my brother.
“I understand if you’re upset right now, but you have to try and think rationally and see that ultimately, this has all been for your own good—so we could come out of hiding from the Salvatellas once and for all and actually have a real future! A future beyond being human pack member peons bound to serve Reinoso assholes for the rest of our natural lives—not to mention the lives of our future children and their children.
“When I came here and found out that this was it for me”—he shook his head—“that this would be my life … it nearly destroyed me.”
I was sure it had. I could only imagine how hard it must have been for him. But it didn’t negate the things he’d done—didn’t make it right.
“I couldn’t just accept it, Miles. I couldn’t.” His eyes were beseeching. But they were also guilty. “I did all of this for you,” he professed. “For the sake of our family and for our future family bloodlines. Don’t you see? I freed us.”
I shook my head. “No, you didn’t.”
“You’re not listening,” he said with a dismissive, placating smile. “As the vessel, you have a choice. You can’t be marked, so you ultimately don’t have to be bound by the mating bond—if that’s even what this really is between you and Alex.” His facial expression said that he was positive it wasn’t. He was the one who wasn’t listening. “I know it might be hard for you, and it might hurt at first, but you can fight it.” The boyish grin he gave me was so hopeful. And it gutted me, because I still loved him as much as I always had. Always would.
“And we can be together again as a family, Miles. We’ll be the most powerful, badass manatee pack in South America,” he joked with a chuckle, reaching for my face with both hands, no doubt with the intention of squeezing my cheeks into a comical impression of a manatee—the goofy gag between us that I’d forever treasured.
But I smacked his hands away and shoved against his chest before he could touch me, sending him stumbling backward several paces—out of my personal space. The look of shock in his eyes was perhaps the most revealing—and insulting—of all.
“I’m not a fucking toddler anymore, Raul. And you’re not the brother I thought you were. You said before that you gave me up for my protection. Now I’m giving you up for my own. Please leave. And stay far away from my pack from now on.”
“What? You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
His confusion turned to anger. “You’re picking the wrong side! Trust me, you don’t want to do that.”
“This isn’t about picking sides, Raul. It’s about self-preservation—looking out for my own well-being for once.” And finally listening to my mom.
“Don’t do this. You’re upset right now. You’re still confused after everything that’s happened. But please, don’t push me away.” His sad brown eyes were those of the brother I’d flown to Brazil hoping to recover two weeks ago. And in my heart, I still yearned to rescue him. I suspected I always would.
“We’re family. We need each other. Don’t put a wall between us, Miles.”
I had to laugh, finally—so I wouldn’t cry. It was a laugh that held no humor, no hint of joy. “There’s no ‘us’ anymore, Raul. There hasn’t been for some time.” As I said it, I realized it was true, despite how heartbreaking it was to finally admit it aloud.
He looked stunned at first. Then he nodded, masking his hurt with a look of cool condescension. He was learning from Gabriel already. “You’ll change your mind. Alex isn’t who you think he is. He’s no Prince Charming. You’ll find that out soon enough. When you come to your senses, you know where to reach me.”
With that, his form vanished from Alex’s bedroom, highlighting the fact that lying to me still came easily enough to him, since only minutes ago he’d said that he thought he “might” be able to teleport—once he’d figured it all out.
Yeah, right.
My mother had told me on her deathbed—high on painkillers and comparing herself to Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz—that I should never trust a Salvatella, no matter what. She’d said that if anyone by that name ever came looking for me that I should run like my life depended on it. During my initial rapid werewolf transformation in the gardens, I’d told Alex, Kai, and Remy
about this. But I’d purposely lied when Remy had asked if that advice was all that my mother had ever told me about the Salvatellas, because I had never been able to reconcile, much less embrace, her other words of Salvatella advice—which pertained to Raul specifically.
And as things had progressed, I hadn’t wanted to give anyone in the Reinoso pack ammunition against my stubborn insistence on rescuing Raul from the Salvatellas. But the joke was on me, it turned out. Because all this time, Raul hadn’t needed rescuing from the Salvatellas at all. Irony of all ironies, it was Nuriel and weenie Gabe who’d been in danger—from my brother.
“Milena, are you listening to me? Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes.” I forced a smile. “I got it, Ma. Don’t bet on horses, never trust a guy in a bowler hat, and if I ever happen to meet anyone with the surname Salvatella, I should be careful.”
“Extremely careful.”
“Extremely careful.” I nodded, giving her cold hand a gentle squeeze. The fine bones felt so fragile in mine. “I shouldn’t divulge any information to them about myself, or about our family,” I repeated her words of advice. “And if anyone by the name Salvatella ever comes looking for me, I’m supposed to run like my life depends on it.”
She smiled and exhaled with what sounded like tremendous relief—like a great weight had just been lifted from her chest. Even as her breathing remained abnormally fast and heavy. Too heavy.
“I should have told you sooner, but he said not to. Said it was too dangerous for you to know. But I don’t care anymore. Because he never—and I never … never knew my Dorothy hourglass would empty so fast.”
I wasn’t certain who or what she was talking about, but I nodded in agreement just the same. This advice about people named Salvatella was odd, and yet too specific to be simply a random hallucination. And it wasn’t the first time I’d heard the name. I considered bringing up what I’d overheard Mateus say about Salvatellas so many years ago, but I quickly decided against it. That night held only painful memories for my mother. And for me.
There were so many tubes everywhere. I was sick of looking at them. It was getting harder to look at my mother for very long without crying.