Alpha's Prize: A Werewolf Romance (Bad Boy Alphas Book 3)

by Renee Rose

  “And now I’m alpha.”

  “Yes, of course. No one challenges that.”

  For some reason his words make the hairs on my arms stand up. He said it too quickly, too easily. As if I really do need to worry that there will be a challenge. I store that away to chew on later.

  “Did you find your female, Carlos?”

  I stifle a growl again. I don’t like anyone talking about my female, especially not any of the fucking council members. “I found her.”

  “And?”

  This time I do rumble. “I am taking her to Barcelona. A honeymoon of sorts.” I glance guiltily at Sedona, even though she doesn’t speak Spanish. I’m not sure she would appreciate my calling this a honeymoon, since she hasn’t agreed to be my mate, but I’m just saying the thing Santiago wants to hear. To get him off my fucking back. “Is my mother available?” I ask impatiently.

  “I’m walking to her quarters now. Let’s see if she’s coherent today.”

  I gnash my teeth, even though it’s not Don Santiago’s fault whether she’s coherent or not. In fact, I used to depend on Don Santiago to be the one who would give it to me straight about my mother. But after Maria Jose’s suggestion I have someone else look at her, a seed of doubt has crept in. Does Don Santiago have her best interest at heart? What if they’re not giving her the best care possible? What if I should have sought to return her to her own family after my father died?

  It’s not too late—I can look into it when I return. Yet another issue to address.

  I hear Don Santiago’s voice and my mother’s in response, then she comes on the line. “Carlos?”

  “Hello, Mamá. How’s it going?”

  “Carlos? Where are you?”

  “I’m in Barcelona, Mamá, with the girl I told you about.”

  “In Barcelona?” She sounds confused. Nothing new there.

  “Yes, with my female.”

  My mom gives a loud gasp, and a spike of fear rushes through me before she proclaims, “How wonderful! Carlos has a mate.”

  “Are you crying, Mamá?”

  “I’m just so happy for you, Carlos. When are you going to bring her home?”

  “I’m not sure.” A fact which kills me. “Soon, I hope.” Not a lie—I can always hope.

  “Grandpups. I want grandpups, Carlos.”

  A rush of longing goes through me so strongly I have to close my eyes. Sedona, pregnant with my pup. My entire life would be worth living if that were the case. And I would damn well make sure their life was perfect.

  I clear my throat. “I want that, too, Mamá.”

  Sedona is looking over at me with curiosity, taking her ear buds out of her ears.

  “Listen, Mamá, I have to go. I’ll call you next week. Take care of yourself.”

  “I love you, Carlitos, mijo. Bring the she-wolf back here. I want to meet her.”

  “Yes, Mamá. I love you, too. Ciao.”

  I end the call and turn to Sedona and shrug. “My mother.”

  “Was she—” Sedona seems to struggle for the words. I appreciate her sensitivity.

  “She was mostly coherent. I told her about you.” I fidget with the croissants, pulling one out of the paper sleeve to offer it to her.

  “What did you say?”

  “Well, I told her about you the morning you left, but she’d forgotten. I told her I was here with you now. She cried.”

  Sedona’s watching me too intently for comfort. I break off a piece of croissant and pop it between her lips.

  “I am capable of feeding myself, you know.”

  “I like to feed you.”

  She smiles as she chews. “I know you do. So, why did she cry?”

  “She’s happy for me. I didn’t tell her any of the, uh, history. Only that I’m here with my female—a female,” I amend.

  The sadness I saw on Sedona’s face all last week creeps back over and I want to shoot myself for making her remember. There’s so much ugliness in our past—because of the council. I don’t want to bring it up, but I know we have to face it at some point. I take a deep breath.

  “Listen. We’ll figure it out. I know it’s a lot to overcome—what we’ve been through, our differences, where we live. But give us a chance, Sedona.”

  “I don’t know, Carlos. We live in different worlds.”

  “We’re two educated, intelligent wolves. We can make it work.”

  Her brow wrinkles, gaze going far away.

  I grab her hand to bring her back. “I’ve been thinking of the way things are in Monte Lobo. I always planned to change things as soon as I became alpha. I’ve only been back a few weeks, and it hasn’t been as easy as I expected, but I promise things will be different.

  “Sedona, first of all, I want you to know I tried to avenge your kidnapping, but someone got there first.”

  “Garrett. My brother.”

  I nod.

  “Second, I want to say, what the council did to you—to us—was wrong. When I get back, I’ll be turning things upside down. There are many good wolves in the pack, and they deserve better.” Something in me shifts as I speak. I make the vow in my heart as I tell Sedona, “I’m going to root out corruption and carry the pack out of the Dark Ages. I will be the alpha they need.”

  Sedona studies my face. I stay very still, wondering what she sees in me.

  “Okay.” Something relaxes in her. “I’m glad.”

  “Thank you.” I’m glad she listened. I can’t tell if I won her trust, though.

  “One thing’s for sure,” she says. “Your council…” She shakes her head. “You can’t trust them. Not after what they did.”

  “I know. After my father died, they ran the show. I was too young to lead and there was no other clear alpha. They’ve taken way too much power. It will take a while to undo the damage they have done.”

  “So you will return to Mexico?” she asks, and my heart seizes. This is the topic I’ve been avoiding.

  I take a deep breath. “I want to say no. See there’s this beautiful female wolf who captivates me…”

  Sedona smiles.

  “But she wouldn’t respect me if I abandoned my duties.”

  “No, she wouldn’t.”

  “But I had to see her again. Even just for a few days. Monte Lobo is so oppressive, but the sight of her reminds me of what I’m fighting for. I’m hoping she will enjoy the next few days with me. We can pretend to be tourists who just met and travel together on a whim.”

  She raises a brow.

  “It’s a long shot, but I’m hoping she’ll understand. I need this. Even if only for a few days.”

  “I understand,” she says softly, a shadow passing over her face.

  “Hey,” I cup her cheek. “We don’t have to decide anything. Let’s just focus on enjoying Spain together.”

  “Okay.”

  A weight lifts off my chest. I have no answers for the future, but my wolf is happy to dwell in the now, basking in the presence of his chosen mate.

  I pop another bite of croissant in her mouth. “May I see your drawing?”

  She reaches for the pad, then hesitates, shooting me an inscrutable look.

  “Please?”

  I hold my breath as she slowly passes it to me, hoping I say the right things. The fairy is adorable—huge, wide-set eyes, a bow-tie mouth and red pigtails. Dainty long lines make up her body to give the impression of movement, like she’s about to flit off to the next flower. She has her hands clasped behind her back, like Degas’ Little Dancer, but so much cuter. There’s a joyful, impish quality—I don’t know enough about art to understand how Sedona produced it, but it’s there.

  “It’s… perfect. You have a real talent, Sedona.”

  “Oh please.” She tries to snatch it back, but I hold it out of her reach. “It’s nothing. Cartoon-y stuff.”

  “That’s not nothing. It’s beautiful. It’s bewitching. And most importantly, it’s what you want to create.” I can’t help but think of monetizing her art—it was
pounded into me at Harvard. “These would make perfect greeting cards. Or children’s books. Even t-shirts.”

  She nibbles her lip, but I see a spark of hope in her eyes and I want to fist-pump. I said the right thing. “I-I don’t really know. I’m not good with marketing or selling. I just like to create.”

  “Then let me sell them for you. I’ll act as your agent. Or business-manager—whatever artists have.” I grin.

  “That’d be cool.” She says it like she believes it won’t happen, which pisses me off. It makes me even more determined to prove to her how hard I’d work for her happiness.

  I flip a page back and she tries to snatch it away. I twist to hold it out of her reach, where I can see it.

  It’s me—my wolf, in loving detail. She has my coloring right, my eyes. She remembered everything, even though she’s only seen him once.

  “Sedona.” I turn back to her, eyes wide with awe. “You drew me.”

  Her cheeks are pink. She shrugs like it’s nothing. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “May I have it?”

  “No.” She reaches for it and this time I reluctantly let her have it.

  Disappointment lances through me. “Why not?”

  “I want to keep it,” she mumbles.

  My nose-diving confidence takes a sharp turn. She wants to keep it. The drawing of me. I want to read so much into this, but I know that’s not wise. She hasn’t admitted any feelings for me yet.

  “I want one of you, then,” I demand.

  She gives a snort. “I don’t draw myself.” Her cheeks turn an enchanting shade of pink.

  “Try.”

  She rolls her eyes, but a smile plays around her mouth. “I’ll think about it.”

  I settle back in my seat and sip the coffee, laying one hand on her leg. Touching her grounds me, eases my anxiety even as it revs the engines of lust always burning in her presence.

  It feels easy and comfortable with her and I hardly dare think it, but I’m starting to believe we can find a way to make things work.

  I don’t know how yet, but I know I want to try.

  ~.~

  Council Elder

  I settle into my first class seat on the plane to Europe and pull out my laptop. I have a great many lab results to review from the tests run in Mexico City. Fortunately, they were at a lab, not the warehouse. I didn’t chance stopping there, in case it’s being watched. Not by Federales—they can be paid off. But by shifters. Word is a wolf who wasn’t part of the American party got free when they did and his pack is now on the hunt.

  Good luck to them. I’ve done an excellent job staying behind the scenes. It’s easy when you’re willing to pay top dollar for services rendered.

  I scan the results, studying the genetic markers of the American she-wolf, as well as those of her pack mates. All healthy. Too bad I didn’t have time to extract eggs and semen to initiate in vitro fertilization.

  All the more reason Carlos needs to get his female pregnant on this trip, if the deed is not already done.

  Barcelona.

  Carlos couldn’t have made my job any easier. I have a warehouse there, with two she-wolves, one jaguar, and two bears in captivity there, all transported in from Siberia.

  I could have them transported to Mexico, but Carlos made the decision easy for me. I’ll kill two birds with one stone.

  If Carlos doesn’t cooperate, I’ll imprison him and his little American, and breed them another way. Better than killing him, like his father. What a waste.

  I send a message to Aleix, one of the traffickers. There are two new wolves in your city. Find them, watch them, but don’t touch them—they are under my protection.

  ~.~

  Sedona

  Carlos holds my hand as we walk up Las Ramblas, the open air pedestrian mall in Barcelona. I try not to read too much into it—whether I should let him hold my hand, or the message it sends. He’s already sleeping in my room, waking me up at night to fuck my brains out. Probably hand-holding shouldn’t be a hard limit.

  The street is packed with tourists and vendors and I have to admit, I enjoy the way Carlos embodies safety and protection.

  I stop to check out a street performer pretending to be statue for a moment, then Carlos leads me to the Miró mosaic set in the sidewalk where tourists tramp right over it, never knowing it’s a famous work of art.

  I check out a collection of leather bags at one vendor, and Carlos pulls his wallet out, as he has every time I’ve stopped. He’s so eager to buy me anything my heart desires. Too bad I’m not some starving artist, or he could work that angle to bind me to him.

  That was a weird thought.

  It’s just that he’s so actively wooing me. He’s proving he can provide, taking care of my every need. It’s sweet as hell, but also unnerves me if I think about it too hard. I feel like I’m on a reality television show where I have a limited amount of time to get to know bachelor number one and decide if he’s the guy I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.

  Um, no.

  Carlos and I have chemistry, no doubt about that. But I can’t decide how much of the rest of it is real. Is he here wooing me because his biology forces him to? His wolf won’t let me go now that he’s marked me?

  Isn’t there some better girl for him? Someone from his own culture, who speaks the language and doesn’t mind the crazy council?

  But even as I think that, I hate this imagined mate. She’d be all wrong for him, I just know.

  I set down the leather bag I’m examining.

  “Do you want one?” Carlos asks.

  I shake my head. “No thanks, money bags.”

  He lifts a brow. “Money bags?”

  “Are you trying to show what a good provider you are?”

  He chuckles. “I’m old-fashioned. Maybe so.”

  “What is your financial situation, anyway?” I ask, then immediately kick myself because now I sound like the bachelorette interviewing her prospect.

  “My pack has wealth. Generally, it all goes to the hacienda and the rest are left with nothing.”

  He says this matter-of-factly, but I know it’s not something he’s accepted, or he wouldn’t call it to my attention.

  “So are you going to redistribute the wealth?”

  “It’s not quite so easy. I want to divert the money to infrastructure—plumbing and electricity, better housing. But I think we could also change the way we do business to increase profits. I’ve been examining the books and we should be making more. Much more.”

  “Do you think someone’s stealing it?”

  He meets my eye. “To be honest? Yes.”

  I squeeze his hand. “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure out who and take care of it. That’s why you’re there, right?”

  He loops an arm around my waist and twirls me into him, my breasts pressing up against his ribs. “Everything seems doable when I’m with you.”

  My heart stutters and I melt into him, lifting my face for a kiss.

  He ghosts his lips over mine. “You give me reason,” he murmurs.

  Part of me wants to draw away, to deny him me as his reason. I’m not ready for that commitment. But fireworks are going off in my chest and I’m smiling up at him like a goofball.

  His kiss is warm and tender, infused with something deeper than passion.

  It scares the crap out of me.

  ~.~

  Carlos

  I step out of the shower after a day spent touring the Gaudí House Museum with Sedona. I swear she makes everything magical. Gaudí’s architecture is impressive, no doubt, but seeing it through her eyes made it all the more glorious.

  With a towel wrapped around my waist, I walk out of the bathroom into our hotel room and find Sedona. In the red dress.

  “Oh no, muñeca. You’re not wearing that out,” I say with complete authority. I have to prevent this catastrophe, or I will be ripping out the eyes of every male who sees her tonight.

  Not to mention the additional problem of us
not making it to dinner because I now want to throw her up against the wall and ball her brains out.

  “Dress off. You can’t wear that.” Bad move on my part, but I can’t stop the dictate from flying out of my mouth.

  She throws her hands on her hips. “Fuck. You. I’ll wear whatever I damn well please.”

  Okay, yeah. I totally fucked up on that one.

  I stalk toward her, a hunter after his prey. I shove my wolf down before speaking this time. “Forgive me, mi amor. I didn’t mean it like that.” My hands reach for her hips and I slide the fabric up to reveal more thigh. “I just meant if you wear that, the only thing I’ll be eating tonight will be you.”

  One of those beautiful smiles lights up her face. “I’m counting on that.”

  I groan. “But you’re starving. You already said so—twice—before we got back here to shower and change.”

  “You’ll have to contain yourself until after dinner.” She covers my palms with hers to stay them.

  “Impossible.”

  She shrugs. “Then I’ll go alone.”

  “The hell you will,” I growl. This time I can’t help but crowd her back against the wall and trap her between my arms. “Take off. The dress.”

  Her eyes dilate. The corners of her lips kick up. “No.” I hear the challenge in her voice. It’s the same one that tells me to chase when she runs.

  But somewhere, somehow, I also remember that she’s hungry. It’s my duty to provide for my female. So I’ll have to make this quick. I spin her around to face the wall and fist the fabric of her skirt in back to pull it up.

  She’s wearing miniscule panties—tiny, G-string satin threads with a scrap of fabric between her legs.

  I rip them off her, unable to contain myself enough to take them off gently. “Who are those for?” I growl, insanely jealous because she had those panties with her, she brought them to Paris, before she knew I’d join her.

  “Easy, big guy,” she soothes. “They’re for you. Only for you. Like this pussy.” She reaches between her legs and touches herself.

  Oh no she didn’t.