The Alpha’s Tempting Mate

Carlos

I storm into Don Jose’s office. I’ve been back for a day and it’s time to make some changes around here. “According to my calculations, we pull fifty thousand ounces of silver out of that mine each year and yet we’re only selling thirty. Where is the rest of it going?”

Surprise flits over Don Jose’s face, but he quickly masks it. “We’re selling everything we pull out. What are you insinuating? That someone is stealing half our silver? Impossible.” He scoffs and waves his hand, like he wants to shoo me away.

“Come now, Carlos. You’ve been in a temper since you returned without your female. I know you blame Don Santiago and the rest of us for that failing, but now you’re getting paranoid.”

I ignore the dig and slap the old ledgers on the desk. “Here are the reports from each mine on their production output.” I point at several columns of numbers. “These don’t match the reports turned in by Guillermo’s team down at the mine.” I set a dirty log book from the mine on the desk.

Don Jose picks up the book from the mine and scans the numbers himself, then matches them by month to the log book. His brow furrows before it smooths.

“Who enters these numbers?” I tap the ledger.

“I do,” he snaps. “But I don’t use these mine logs. I use the reports generated by Don Santiago.”

Our eyes meet. Santiago. I know both of us are thinking it. Sonofabitch. He must be using the money for whatever hobby science projects he has going. But Don Jose schools his face and says, “Don Santiago knows what’s going on. I’m sure these are raw numbers and the one he enters are the final ones. If there’s some discrepancy, the council will review it.”

I lunge for him, wrapping his shirt up in a fist under his chin. “You’re sure? You’re sure about a lot, aren’t you? You sure about why and how the wealth of this pack has been drained over the past fifty years, leaving the majority of our people in poverty?”

He doesn’t struggle, probably because I would win a physical fight. But he doesn’t give me the gratification of getting ruffled, maintaining his calm, condescending demeanor. “You’re off-balance, Carlos. Get a grip, or we’ll have to medicate you, like your mother.”

I slam his head down on the desk, cracking his nose. When I lift him, blood pours over his lips and down his chin. I bring my face right up to his. “Try it,” I growl. “Try it and I’ll kill every last one of you motherfuckers.”

Don Jose gives a forced laugh as he gropes for a handkerchief in his pocket. “You are deranged, Carlos.”

“Am I, Jose?” I drop the “Don,” because he doesn’t deserve the respect it implies. “I’m going to keep turning over rocks until I uncover where half the wealth of our mountain has gone. And you’d better pray I don’t link its disappearance to the council.”

I turn to stalk out and Don Jose pinches his nose with the handkerchief.

My fight for control has begun.

~.~

Carlos

I head down to the mine to return the logbook. I’m ashamed I haven’t spent much time in the mines. I don’t know all that goes into it, nor the names and faces of the men who work there. I find Guillermo, the foreman who gave me the logbook working right beside the rest of them.

The mine consists mostly of silver and lead, but originally, when our Spanish ancestors settled here, they mined gold from it, as well.Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

Guillermo straightens when I come in. He’s a huge wolf, face prematurely lined and craggy with hard work. He gives me an up and down sweep of his eyes, taking in my neatly pressed, fine Italian slacks and button down. I look as out of place as a flower in a shit pile here. His eyes land on my collar, and I pull it away from my face to see what he’s looking at.

Oh yeah. Some of Don Jose’s blood splattered on it. I don’t offer any explanation-I don’t have to, I’m alpha.

I hold up the log book. “I brought back the records.”

Guillermo takes it. I swear I see suspicion under his neutral gaze, but I don’t know what it’s for. “You find anything… interesting?”

I nod.

I’m not sure how much to share. I don’t know who is working for the thief or thieves. I can’t say if any wolf here would side with me when I try to bring him or them down. My guess is that the council’s behind it, but I need more proof.

“Numbers don’t match the council’s reports.” I opt for the truth and watch the faces around me absorb it.

Some look wary, some angry. Most keep their faces carefully blank, like they’re used to covering their thoughts.

Guillermo crosses his arms over his massive chest. “My numbers are good.”

“I have no doubt. If anyone here was stealing silver from the pack, you sure as hell wouldn’t report it in that log book.”

“Stealing from the pack or the council?” one of them mutters. I can’t tell who spoke because they all drop their eyes, as if afraid I’ll get aggressive.

“The council doesn’t own the mountain, the pack does. The wealth that comes out of these mines should be for the benefit of all.” I’m campaigning now. If I’m going to make changes around here, I’ll need support.

None of them show any response to my words.

“Where’s your female?” someone toward the back asks.

The question hits me like a blow to the gut. I could’ve handled any inquiry, was prepared for any discussion but this one.

Carajo.

The pack wants an alpha with a female. They need to know I’m preserving our alpha line. It’s what the council told me, but now I’m seeing how much it matters to them.

Goddammit.

A leader doesn’t blame others when he’s found lacking. I’m not going to throw the council under the bus, even though I believe their interference ruined my chances with Sedona.

Sedona-fates. I’ve gone all day trying not to think of her, but now she’s here, right in the forefront of my mind, the way I last saw her. Hurt, angry, and afraid. Her face pale with fury, blue eyes flashing. My Sedona. I nearly double over with the pain that seizes my gut.

I clear my throat. “I’m working on finding a mate. I promise I will take one soon to continue the Montelobo line.”

The wolves shift on their feet, and the scent of suspicion grows stronger. They know a bullshit line when they hear one, I guess.

I owe them more credit. Despite the pain in my chest, I try again. “You may have heard I took a mate over the last moon, and it’s true. But my mate was brought here against her will, stolen from her pack in America. I refuse to keep her prisoner here. I released her.”

Unbelievably, some of the wolves nod, as if they agree with my decision. Maybe all they need is communication from me, so they understand the decisions their alpha is making. Rather than let the guilt at my failing as an alpha drag me under, I plow forward, give them more.

“I know I’ve been a poor alpha to you. I’ve been away while conditions here worsened. But I’m back now. I’m ready to dedicate myself to improving Monte Lobo for the good of all, not just those who live in the hacienda.” I wave a hand toward the log book. “I’m starting with the finances. Some things don’t add up, but I’m going to track where our money is going. Our pack should have greater wealth to make improvements here. Plumbing and electricity for everyone, for starters.”

Again, I sense suspicion. Or maybe it’s skepticism. How can I fault them? I’m unproven as an alpha.

I try one last time. “My door is open. If you have anything to report, or request, visit me at the hacienda. I want to hear from you.”

A few men nod.

I incline my head slightly and turn to walk out of the mine, with the weight of at least twenty pairs of eyes on me.

“Senor!” someone calls as I step into the sun. I shield my eyes, blinking until I make out the weathered face. It’s Marisol, the old farmer Paco’s wife.

“Don Carlos, welcome home.” She bobs a curtsey.

“Senora,” I greet her. At least someone is glad to see me.

She steps closer. “My husband tells me not me to bother you, but…” She trails off, biting her lip.

“You are one of my pack. You are always welcome to approach me.”

The older wolf studies me. I catch a whiff of her emotions-worry, resignation, a tinge of something more than nervousness. Terror?

“You have nothing to fear from me,” I emphasize.

“Your father-he was a good wolf,” she whispers. “He wanted what’s best for the pack. And you-you are like him. We see him in you.”

I didn’t expect this, so I stay silent.

She drops her gaze, shoulders hunching in submission. “I don’t mean any disrespect, alpha.”

“Marisol.” I touch her shoulder. “I am grateful you spoke. I hope to honor my father’s memory.” I search for the words. “I also want what’s best for the pack. Not a few wolves, but all of them. I promise I will work hard to be the alpha you deserve.” I lean close. “Things are going to change around here. For the better.” Whether the council likes it or not. One day, the pack might rally behind me. Until then, I will work to win their trust.

The hope on Marisol’s face tells me that day might soon come.

“Bless you, Don Carlos,” she whispers, dropping another curtsey. I let her slip away.

I meant every word I said. Now all I can do is fulfill my promises.

Even if I don’t have the motivation of making things perfect for Sedona.

Even if I’m not sure how my heart will go on beating without her.

I will throw myself into my work and make a difference for my pack. And someday, maybe, I can try again with my lovely mate.