Chapter 31: Changing Times: Part 2

~“I won’t be long. My father kept all the leaders back to talk about plans and schedules. You know what I mean.”~

~“I’ll leave our link open if you need me. Don’t let any of them give you any shit, or else they’ll have to deal with me.”~

His deep husky voice has me pining for his presence, and I sigh wearily. ~“Mateo is being a gentleman and taking care of me. I’m sure he’ll intervene.”~

I’m trying to make him relax, but the overwhelming surge I get back from his emotions that he didn’t like what I said surprises me.

There’s a hint of jealousy, and I blink at Mateo as though I’m missing the point. He has his back to me, pouring his drink, and is nowhere near me.

~“Right. As I said, I won’t be long.”~ His tone is clipped, and he closes the link before I respond, despite saying he wouldn’t.

He sounded off and moody, and I swear it makes me want to laugh at how ridiculous he’s being. He sent me here with Mateo, and now he’s what? Jealous because I said he was being nice.

I knew males were territorial and possessive by nature, worse when they mate up, but I’m not even his, and he has nothing to worry about.

We imprinted, and the Fates ensured I had no desire to look at anyone else, even if he did reject me.

I inhale sharply, shake it off, and return to staring at the fire, trying not to let him get to me as the door swings open and two boys stomp in, arguing with each other.

“You’re a liar. I didn’t say anything of the sort,” the first male snaps, turning and spotting me and instantly frowning like he’s just faced a terrible or vile sight.

He stops dead as the other collides into the back of him with an exaggerated “oomph” noise. He’s unsurprisingly dark-haired, tanned, and has a typical Colombian look to him.

All the Santos originated from there before coming here a few generations ago.

They usually mate up with others like them, so the bloodline stays purest, and most of the males get sent back in early childhood to spend time in their homelands, so most have mixed accents as Colton does.

“Hey, watch it,” the voice snarls and shoves him forward, exposing an identical face and equal build, and I realize these two boys are twins.

If memory serves, I can pull out of Colton’s mind that this is Domi and Remi. They’re younger than Colton by a year, making them eighteen, like me.

Both are lean, tall, athletic boys with light-brown hair and soft hazel eyes—more Santos, and I know for sure they’re Colton’s distant cousins on his mom’s side.

“And she is here because…?” The first one turns to Mateo with a growl.

He gets a snarl in response, Mateo seemingly growing an inch taller, facing them down.

“Because Colton said so, and I doubt he wants to hear you were questioning it!” It’s not a friendly tone, and it has the desired effect of dampening down the attitude of one twin, at least.

“He’s not questioning. He’s just a little shocked that our pack room has someone… not of our pack,” the other chirps in, throwing me a devious side-eye.

I fade back into my chair, aware that the waves of prickling heat coming my way are hostility, even while he is smiling on like it’s not.

“Who’s not in our pack?” That female voice I’ve been dreading comes wafting in, thick like honey and sultry, preceding her entry as she walks in the door.

She sashays in like the queen of the manor and stops dead in her tracks when she spots me.

Gray eyes instantly storm over, pouty mouth forming a thin, tight line, and porcelain skin paling as rage ignites under the surface.

Her eyes glow intensely amber as she growls her dislike for me and lowers her chin to move into an attack stance.

Wolves are aggressive by nature, and we jump to fight for every little thing. Bite, nip, attack. It’s just how we are.

“Why in the fuck has he let her in here?” Carmen loses her cool and quickly steps toward me, but Mateo zaps forward, using his hyper-speed, blocking her in a nanosecond, and zips between us.

He stands firm, lifts his chin, and makes a good show of exerting his dominance.

“Colton wanted her here and will be along soon, so pipe down, go sit over there, and behave!”

Mateo has a tone not too dissimilar to Colton’s alpha tone, only less effective, and she draws her eyes from me to him, not as affected as she would have been had their alpha said it.

“Don’t tell me what to do. You’re not my alpha. Hell, you’re not even his beta.” The undercurrent of a snarl between them sizzles, and I tense, waiting for it to get crazy in here.

I am surprised that Mateo is not his second-in-command, and I rake my memories to find out who he is. I swear to God it better not be Carmen, or I’m in trouble.

“Ahora, que tenemos aqui?” Another female voice floats in, soft, light, and strangely alluring, with a deep raspy undercurrent as three more wolves stroll in unannounced.

I recognize her as Meadow, one of the older femmes in her late twenties, mated to Cesar, the one behind her. Her brother is in tow, Jesús, and they stop to gaze over the little scene.

“Ahora, chicos, go sit down before I break a claw reminding you who ~is~ beta in this room when Colton is not here. Sit!”

Her accent is heavy and thick, clear she’s an incomer to Radstone, and English is not her first language. Her accent has never faded, though.

It’s not uncommon for wolves with links elsewhere to bring in a family pack from farther away to live with them or find a mate, and I know Meadow’s been with us for a few years, maybe even as far back as the war.

Mateo and Carmen give one last snarl and separate, walking to the couches, chastised and, surprisingly, not defying her.

They’re followed by the twins, who avert their eyes from their new member and instantly go into sulk mode, slumping together on one sofa and staring at me with lowered eyelids.

There’s no hint of warmth, which adds to my growing uneasiness as I sit stiffly where I was.

Meadow strolls into the room confidently, eyeing me up unashamedly, and I get the sensation I’m being weighed up as prey.

She’s a sight to behold, strong, graceful, and very sassy at five feet eight with black hair, the most amazing pale-blue eyes under sculpted black brows, and deeply tanned skin.

She has full lips, catlike eyes with perfect makeup, and an outfit of clingy denim with a blouse that shows off her ample cleavage.

She’s beautiful but has an aura of terror. She doesn’t stray out of the Santo side of the lands much, but it’s evident that Mateo is not Colton’s second-in-command. Meadow is.

I wouldn’t argue with her. Her natural nails are long, sharp, and pointed with a shellac of blood-red, so I can’t imagine what her wolf claws would be like. She puts the fear in me with just her presence.

“Hi. I’m Cesar. This is Jesús and the infamous Meadow here.” Cesar nods at me with no hint of either dislike or friendliness in his blank statement.

He’s another tall, stocky type, and I’m starting to see a pattern with this pack. They are the best of the breed and all alarmingly alike, except Carmen, the only blonde among them.

They’re all big, strong, and have lashings of both aggression and attitude, which is common among our strongest. I’m sure, as a pack, they have many battles of wills and lots of spats.

“She knows who we are, don’t you, amiga? She has Cole’s memories, and I’m sure she knows how to access them.”

Meadow strolls in front of me, heels clicking on the hardwood floor, her eyes wandering over me as she takes me all in without caring how uncomfortable it’s making me.

She’s devouring my appearance with a critical eye.

“I do,” I answer sheepishly, aware another has entered the open door and praying that it has to be all of them.

I don’t even glance their way, as Meadow has a commanding quality that demands you give her your full attention.

This is getting crowded, and I feel like I’m raw meat that’s being lowered into a hungry lion’s den.

“Oh, how did the Fates get this so wrong?” Jesús sneers at me, appearing beside her, not too dissimilar in looks from his sister, only masculine where she is feminine.

He instantly shuts up when Meadow throws him a pointed glare with a subtle growl.

“The Fates are never wrong! Don’t you know that?” she snaps before taking a calming breath, lifting her hands, and making motions in the air as though to accompany deep breaths.

She smirks when she catches my eye and bends toward me, almost dropping her massive boobs in my face from her low-cut top.

“I don’t know. I sense something in this one. You think, papi, she has a little summit, summit?”

Cesar doesn’t seem impressed or unimpressed—totally blank—and I can only assume he is who she calls papi. I know it’s a name for your lover or mate.

She reaches out, picking up a strand of my wild, unbrushed hair, and runs her fingers through it slowly, tingling my scalp as it tugs gently.

It puts me on edge and makes me so uncomfortable I feel like calling on Colton, but I don’t. I expect his pack to be like this at a first meeting.

I mean, he just threw me in with them amid all that happened today, and they’re sizing me up to see how much grit I have. I can’t show them weakness, or they’ll shred me.

“Is it true she came from the home for the rejects? The ones the vamps all slaughtered?” One of the twins can’t conceal his disgust, and Carmen sneers, a look of anger crossing her face.

She throws him a side-eye glare.

“Yes. And our formidable alpha lowered his standards and tried to mark this mutt. He needs his head read.” Carmen is quick to chirp in with her dislike of me, seething hatred my way.

The room feels like it’s closing in as anxiety builds and my panic grows, and I wonder how long before I get cornered and chewed on.

“Oye…” It’s a sharp sound emitted to shut her up, and Meadow stands to roll her hair between two fingers and faces them with a look of “I’m getting so pissed.”

“Don’t disrespect our alpha’s compañera. Don’t make me mad, chica. I won’t tolerate it, and neither will he. I don’t like when I get angry.”

Meadow is by far the scariest femme I have ever come across, and I don’t know why she’s unnerving me so much because she seems pretty sane on the surface.

It’s just she has an aura that screams “certified psycho,” and every single time she moves, I flinch internally, getting antsier by the second as she stands so close to me.

Carmen recoils, obviously knowing only too well that Meadow doesn’t make empty threats, and Mateo clears his throat to distract her.

He, too, seems like he knows he should diffuse things, and it only heightens my wariness. Some femmes in our packdom are worse than the mates in terms of volatile aggression and ability to maim.

And I think Meadow is one.

“Drinks, anyone, while we wait on him?” Mateo glances around for takers and gets a couple of quiet nods.

“No, we have otros planes for our little compañera. She needs a little help over here.” Meadow clicks her tongue at me to catch my attention.

When I look up at her, she extends her finger and motions for me to come.

It’s creepy and yet an order, and without question, I slide up in my chair, heartbeat elevating and wondering what the hell she plans on doing to me.