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

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Alpha's Prize: A Werewolf Romance (Bad Boy Alphas Book 3) Page 17

by Renee Rose


  Her eyes fill with tears. “He said he didn’t survive the procedure. When my husband raised a fuss, he was crushed in a mining accident.”

  My father leans forward. “Are you implying it wasn’t an accident?”

  She shrugs. “Any pack member who made waves disappeared in the mines. It’s an easy way to get rid of troublemakers.”

  A growl sounds in the room. At first I think it must be my dad, then I realize it’s coming from me.

  “There are alphas who rule their packs with an iron fist, who punish their pack members, even mete out death as a consequence. As wolves, we follow, we obey. It’s in our nature. But nothing about that council is natural.”

  The hairs stand up on my arms. I growl again.

  “Sneaky deaths, silent deaths—it keeps the pack afraid, and quiet. The council’s spies are everywhere. No one speaks up, for fear they might be next. But after my husband died, I knew I had to leave. My sister, Marisol, helped me escape. She wouldn’t leave her husband, but she told me to get out while I still could.”

  “What about the alpha?” my father asks. “Couldn’t you go to him for help?

  “They killed him.”

  My mouth drops open. Carlos hadn’t told me that. Did he know?

  “If they can’t control an alpha, he dies. All they care about his keeping the alpha blood line pure. They don’t care about actually having an alpha to rule. Your Carlos, he’s in danger now.”

  “Now?”

  She nods, her eyes haunted. “Now that you’re pregnant. They’ll have no need for him.”

  ~.~

  My legs are weak when we get back in the car. I knew Carlos’ pack was troubled, but I never considered he might be in danger.

  But I should have. They had so little respect for him, they caged him in a cell with me. Their own alpha. My mate is in danger. The father of my pup.

  My hands shake as I pull out my phone.

  “Who are you calling?” My dad’s watching me with concern.

  “Garrett.”

  “Why?”

  I shake my head impatiently and dial the number.

  “Hey sis. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. No, not really. Hey, could you text me Amber’s phone number?”

  I can practically hear my brother grind his teeth. “You gonna tell me what this is about?”

  “I just want to check out some information Dad and I got from a shifter up in Flag. She’s from Carlos’ pack.”

  “Okay. But just know that Amber’s not entirely comfortable with her gifts yet, and she doesn’t like to be put on the spot.”

  “Isn’t that what you did with her to find me?”

  “Yeah, smart ass, it is. Never mind. You’re both adults, you can work it out between the two of you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Let me know how I can help, okay, sis?”

  “Yeah, I will.”

  “You coming back to your apartment here? We’ve got you all moved in.”

  I glance over at my dad, who scowls at the road. Of course he’s heard every word. “Maybe. I don’t know. I have a lot to figure out.”

  “I know.” His voice is soft with sympathy, which I don’t want, so I hit the end button, quickly.

  When he texts me the number, I hit dial right away. Amber answers in her professional voice, “Amber Drake speaking.”

  “Hi Amber, it’s Sedona.”

  “Hi Sedona. What’s up?”

  “Can I ask you a question? A yes or no one?”

  Amber’s silent a moment, and I’m sure she’s thinking of how to politely tell me to stop using her this way, but she says, “I can try.”

  “Is Carlos in danger?”

  She’s quiet for a moment, then I hear her suck in her breath. “Mortal danger,” she chokes.

  “Fuck,” I mutter. “Thank you. Thanks a lot. I appreciate it.” I hang up.

  My dad frowns. “I knew I should’ve torn that pack apart the day we picked you up.”

  “No, Dad,” I snap. “Because you would’ve taken down Carlos, too. And none of this is his fault.”

  My dad’s brows draw together. “We’ll go back. Take out just the council. Then you’re free to make the right choice about your ma—about Carlos. I don’t want your decisions clouded by fear for your safety or your pup’s or even the pup’s father.”

  I nod mutely. This is why I love my dad, as much of a controlling ass as he can be. He takes care of things.

  Carlos would do this much for our daughter, too. For some reason, I’m suddenly certain our pup is a girl. His vision of the pack has been obscured by lies from the council. If he knew they killed his father, I can’t imagine he wouldn’t take swift action. He’s not a coward, not my Carlos. He’s just concerned with doing the right thing for his pack.

  And for me. I realize with utter clarity the reason he let me go. It’s not for lack of caring. It’s because he cares enough. Both times I’ve left, he let me walk. Because he would never hold me against my will.

  Tears leak out of my eyes, but unlike the ones I’ve cried over the past several days, these aren’t full of self-pity. My chest is filled with love. Love for my mate, for Carlos.

  And he’s in danger now.

  Yes, I believe my dad can take care of the council, but I want to be there first. To tell Carlos what I know, and help him sort things out before my dad comes in with the big guns. I can’t tell my dad, though, he’d never allow it.

  Tonight. As soon as I get back to Phoenix, I’ll find a flight out.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Carlos

  “Carlos, they took him from me,” my mother wails. I’m in her room and she’s pacing up and down in front of the window, stopping every now and then to look out.

  “No, I’m right here, Mamá.” I put my hands on her shoulders and try to catch her gaze.

  “Your father,” she whispers. “They took your father.”

  “Papi’s dead. Remember? An accident in the mine.”

  She shakes her head rapidly. “No, no accident. They took him.”

  I sigh and look over at Maria Jose, ringing her hands in the corner. “Should we sedate her?”

  For a second, I catch a glimpse of judgement in Maria Jose’s expression and I’m taken aback. Then I remember what she told me last time.

  “You think the drugs make her worse. I haven’t had her checked out yet.” I stab my fingers through my hair. “I’m sorry. I’ll take her to the city tomorrow. Don Santiago’s absence makes it easier to get a second opinion.”

  Maria Jose’s eyes widen and she steps forward. “Yes, yes, Don Carlos. That would be good. Get her away from here. She’s not safe—”

  She stops speaking and I catch horror on her face before she turns away.

  My instincts sharpen, vision tunnels like I’m about to shift. I force myself to remain gentle as I go to her and take her shoulders to turn her around. “What do you mean, she’s not safe?”

  She shakes her head rapidly. “Nothing, señor. Nothing.”

  I tighten my grip. “Don’t lie. Never lie to me,” I growl. When I see the whites of her eyes grow, I force myself to release her, take a breath. I won’t get anywhere going in heavy. “Maria Jose, this is my mother we’re talking about. I need to know what you meant.”

  “The drugs—” She wrings her hands again. “What if the drugs make her crazy—not the other way around?”

  I look at my mother, standing in her white and pink floral nightgown and yellow housecoat, watching us with uncertainty. It’s been so long since she’s been normal, but I glimpse her old self there now. As if she wants to understand what we’re saying. She almost does.

  “Think about it, when did the craziness start?” Maria Jose whispers.

  “After my father died. She was grieving—” I break off when Maria Jose gives a slight shake of her head.

  “Think about what she says about your father’s death.”

  They took him from me.

  It hits me lik
e a bullet to the head. “They’re keeping her quiet.”

  Maria Jose takes a step back, like she can’t believe what she’s done.

  I stalk to the dresser where her medicines are stacked up and shove them all to the floor. “Get rid of these. No more medicine until she’s been checked out. And don’t leave her alone for a second. Does anyone but Don Santiago ever inject her?”

  Marie Jose shakes her head.

  “Good. I don’t want anyone going near her. No one but you, understand?”

  “Yes, Don Carlos.” She bobs her head approvingly.

  I look back over at my mother. She appears almost lucid, like she understands what we’re saying. She points with a shaking hand to the floor by her bed.

  “What is it, Mamá?”

  Fates, the Parkinson’s-like tremors in her hands break my heart. A side-effect of the drugs.

  My mother rushes over and drops to her knees on the floor.

  Carajo. More craziness.

  “Mamá, get off the floor. It’s oka—” I stop when I see she’s prying one of the floorboards up.

  “What’s in there, Mamá?” I look a question at Maria Jose, who shakes her head.

  Gently lifting my mother to sit on the bed, I pull up the board and look underneath. There are hundreds of pills in a rainbow of colors and varying sizes. But underneath is a journal. I remember it from when I was a kid. My mom used to write poetry in it and read it to me. Is this a moment of nostalgia, or is she showing me something significant?

  I look over my shoulder at her, but her expression is simple and vacant.

  I pull out the journal, shaking off the pills and tuck it in my pocket. I don’t know if she’s trying to tell me something or if this is more of her crazy, but I’m taking it with me for safekeeping.

  I bend and kiss my mom on the top of the head and nod at Maria Jose. “Pack a bag for both of you. We’ll leave in the morning.”

  When I see Maria Jose hesitate, I guess her fear. “We’ll bring Juanito, too. I will keep you both safe, I promise.”

  She relaxes and dips into a curtsy. “Thank you, Señor.”

  ~.~

  Sedona

  By some miracle, I find a flight to Mexico City going out tonight and call an Uber to meet me at a block from my parents’ house. The last thing I want to do is get some pack member in trouble for driving me to the airport and I know my dad would never let me leave. I slip out of the house with nothing more than a backpack, because—yeah—a suitcase might signal to my family that I’m going somewhere.

  I know they’ll be on my tail, and that’s fine. I just want to get there first.

  I board the plane, strong with determination. I'm not letting anyone take my pup's father from her. Or from me. It's funny how things become crystal clear when you stand to lose it all.

  I won't lose Carlos. He's mine. My mate. The father of my pup. He has an enormous heart—cares deeply for his mother, the little servant boy who set me free, his pack.

  For me.

  It's so obvious now to me how much he both cares for and respects me. He worshipped my body, dominated me, but still gave me my congress. I'm not willing to live without him.

  I don't know how we'll make it work, but we'll figure something out. If the council is eliminated from the picture, my trauma and resentments from my captivity could be put to rest. I'd be willing to help him make the changes he envisions for his pack. If we worked together, I have no doubt we could do great things there.

  Look what my brother did in Tucson with just a little startup capital and a ragtag pack of young males. Now he has a thriving real estate business, a nightclub, and a strong, loyal pack, willing to do anything for him. And a mate. Having Amber will change things even more—I can't wait to see how. Maybe they'll provide a cousin for our pup.

  But I'm getting way ahead of myself. I have to save Carlos first.

  The rest, we'll figure out.

  ~.~

  Carlos

  I wake up with my head on my desk, drool running down my chin. I must've fallen asleep reviewing the books. I spent the night pouring through more financial journals, following the trails of money. Since Don Santiago was the only tech-savvy member of el consejo, he's been the one to handle the on-line accounts. He appears to be the one stealing from the pack. Whether it's with the complicity of el consejo or not, I can't be sure.

  I swore for a moment, I saw surprise in Don Jose's eyes when I told him what I'd found, but he quickly covered it up. That was what pissed me off. El consejo always operates alone, without bringing me in on discussions or decisions. I know that's not how it should be.

  My father was a member of the council. I remember him being locked in the conference room for long hours, coming out looking beaten down and haggard, angry and stressed by whatever discussion they'd had.

  I haven't even been invited in on such meetings. I'm ready to disband the whole fucking council. If I thought I had support from the pack, I'd do it today. This minute. Before I drive my mom down to el D.F.

  Which reminds me—I never looked at her journal. I pull it out of my pocket and skim through the pages. It's what I remembered—poetry, quotes. Snippets of beauty my mother liked to share with me.

  I thumb toward the back of the journal. Does she still write in this thing? I wouldn't think she'd even be capable with her shaky hands and addled brain. No. The last entries are dated fifteen years ago.

  Which would be around the time of my father's death. I slow down and read. Her handwriting is messier, as if writing in a hurry, or under duress. The ink on the last pages is smeared with tears.

  My mate, my Carlos disappeared today. How will I go on without him? How can this be? I know who killed him. It's as plain to me as day.

  The argument with the council last night had gone on late. When he came back, he told me they seized control over all the monetary assets, told him he is no longer allowed to make financial decisions for the pack. He was furious. He paced in the bedroom all night and left early this morning, but he never returned.

  Don Jose says there was an accident in the mine, but I know it's a lie. They killed him, just like they kill everyone who goes up against them. Everyone knows there's a pile of bodies in that mine. Every young shifter who might be a physical threat. Every wolf who dissents on any point. Any male or female who doesn't toe the line.

  Everyone lives in fear here. I only have one choice—to get Carlitos out of here before he becomes their next victim. If only I knew who I could trust.

  Ice sluices through my veins as I read.

  The council killed my father. I always thought it was an accident in the mine. Like so many others. But my mother suspected none of them were accidents.

  Are these simply the ravings of a madwoman? They don't seem it. Paranoid, perhaps. But fully coherent. Logical. They must have offered the first drugs to her as something to calm her down, ease her grieving. Then they kept her silent all these years.

  But why not just kill her? Wouldn't that be easier than keeping her around? Perhaps they feared it would arouse too much suspicion.

  I jump to my feet and go to my mother's room first, fear for her safety suddenly spiking through me.

  I find Maria Jose has her dressed, bag packed and ready.

  "She's eaten breakfast, we're ready any time."

  "They started drugging her—when? Immediately after my father's dead?"

  Recognition sparks in Maria Jose's eyes. She knows what I know. She nods.

  "And my mother suspected them of killing my father. Did you know that?"

  Again, she nods.

  "So they've silenced her with drugs that made her mad?"

  "I fear it's so, Don Carlos."

  “Wait here. Lock the door. Don’t allow anyone in but me. Understand?”

  She bobs her head. “Sí, señor.”

  I pound down the white marble steps and find Don Jose eating breakfast with Don Mateo on the upper terrace.

  His broken nose has already healed,
which makes me want to break it again. I grab Mateo this time. “What happened to my father? The truth.”

  “A mine shaft collapsed. You know that.” Mateo keeps his eyes lowered, doesn’t pull the condescending bullshit Jose always tries.

  My wolf is close to the surface, ready to tear out and kill all threats. I shake him. “Bullshit. You had him killed. How did you arrange it?”

  Servants gather in the doorway to watch. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Juanito in the shadows. My need to protect him makes me rougher with Mateo.

  “My mother knew and you started drugging her. The drugs make her crazy, not the other way around.”

  “Calm yourself, Carlos,” Jose placates. “Your mother isn’t well, and neither are you.” His cell phone buzzes and he pulls it out and looks at the screen. “We have a security issue at the gate.”

  That’s probably a lie, but I pull back, because I realize I’m playing right into Don Jose’s game of making me the crazy one. I have no proof but a raving woman’s diary. What I do have proof of, is financial misdeeds.

  I release Mateo and straighten my jacket. Servants have gathered to watch the proceedings, along with a few pack members. I see Marisol out of the corner of my eye and she appears to be sending her husband Paco out, possibly to gather others.

  I have an audience now, it’s time to make a declaration. “I’m taking over the finances of this pack. Someone has siphoned off half the profits of the mine going back at least ten years and I’m going to find out who. Anyone—everyone—who played a role in the theft or covering it up will be punished. Severely.”

  That causes a stir amongst the servants. Mateo’s gone pale. Now for the coup de grâce.

  “I’m also disbanding the council.” My raised voice carries across the expanse of the terrace, out into the land beyond.

  The audible gasps and murmurs circulate. Wolves have appeared all around, listening out windows, drawing near from the gardens and fields. I see Paco hustling back, followed by Guillermo and his men from the mine. They are the strongest wolves. If there is a fight, they will be the ones to win it. I wish I knew which way they’d swing.

 

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