His Mine

All it takes is a twist of fate, a tragedy, or someone's evil plan to change the trajectory of life, and in this moment, it's like claws digging into my flesh. They rake down my spine when the pathologist pulls back the white sheet on my father and then on my mother. Their broken and bruised bodies lay across a metal slab, eyes closed and skin cold to the touch as I take their hands.

They didn't die proudly in an epic fight as wolves, defending their pack.

No.

They died in a car accident thanks to a drunk driver.

"It's them," I whisper and turn away, my fingers slipping from theirs.

The pathologist take note that I have identified my parent's bodies and mutters his condolences, but I'm already halfway out the door. Ingrid engulfs me in her arms the moment I step out of the morgue and dissolve into tears. Her husband, Cole, places his hand on my back and sniffles.

"What now?" I say through tears. "How do I even begin to plan a burial ceremony?"

"We'll help you." Ingrid rubs my back.

"And then what?" I wipe my eyes.

"A pack isn't safe without their Alpha," Cole says. "And not just from outside threats, but from within too. Others will want to rise in your father's place."

"Then you must lead us, Cole. You were my father's right-hand man. Our pack will listen to you. They'll follow you."

"No. As Antonio's daughter, you should step up before someone pushes you out, Nola."

I shake my head. "They won't listen to me. What if someone challenges me?"

"Then you'll fight."

"Against a man?" I clutch the necklace gifted to me by my parents on my name day when I first shifted under a full moon.

Ingrid clears her throat, "There is another way..."

"Absolutely not," Cole objects.

"What? What is it?" My gaze bounces from him to her.

"Go to the Oceanside pack and beg Mateo Garza to take us in. Combine our packs. Convince him it will make us stronger together."

Cole motions angrily like he's drawing a divide, shutting the suggestion down. "Ingrid, no!"

"It's what her mother would have wanted!" she fires back. "Nola still has family over there. Now is the time to reunite. Besides, how can she lead without an Alpha? They won't take her seriously. Darwin would make the perfect mate."

I sniffle and wipe my runny nose with my sleeve. "Darwin?"

"He's Mateo and Lenora Garza's son, which means you'll get to keep your rank. We need them. Otherwise, our pack will be picked off by rivals like vultures. We can't have that."

"What do you think?" I turn to Cole.

My father's long-time friend looks away, rubbing the back of his head, but doesn't answer right away. Instead, he walks ahead, forcing us to follow him through the hallway in a silence that lingers as the gears visibly turn in his head.

It isn't until we're outside, on the busy sidewalk with city traffic, that he looks at me. "Ingrid is right. We're vulnerable right now, and it was always your mother's hope to reunite with Oceanside so she could be near her brother again."

"We don't have to make anything official," Ingrid says, going to the curb as our driver pulls up. "You can simply speak with your uncle. See if he'll arrange a sit-down with Mateo. For now, let's think of it as a conversation."

"A conversation..." I repeat and nod slowly while inhaling a deep breath. "If you think it's our best option, I trust you both."

Agreeing to this plan, we climb into the car, knowing our future is uncertain, yet waging it will all be ok.

∆∆∆

Waves crash behind me as the wind whips through my mahogany curls, and the cold bites my tan cheeks with a frostiness as if saying I don't belong on this side of San Francisco. The Oceanside pack resides in the cliffs, with tunnels that run underground, connecting living spaces like a hamster cage.

Or so I've been told.

I follow a path from the Lands End overlook down into the sandy pit of the Sutro Baths, where a natural pool fills with seawater that crashes against the rocks. Seagulls squawk above me, their wings flapping while they circle, waiting for crustaceans to poke their heads above the sand. Everyone knows not to approach these cliffs unless you belong here.

Yet, I'm walking up to them like I own it.

A whistle floats on the wind, drawing my attention to the top of the cliffs where a Scout crouches, watching me and alerting the Enforcers. They widen their stance when they see me, so I raise my gaze to meet theirs. My sepia irises glint yellow for a moment, and the sun highlights the family crest etched across my collarbone in ancient script, which can only be seen with a wolf's eyes.

"I've come to speak with Victor," I say. "I have news about his sister Valeria."

"And you are?" one of the Enforcers asks, his gaze scrutinizing me with too much appreciation.

Sliding off the hood of my coat, I say, "Nola Santos. Daughter of Antonio and Valeria Santos."

Their names carry weight, and the Enforcer's mouth opens and closes, his eyes flashing to the other guard.

His buddy smacks his chest. "Let her in!"

"But..."

"Do you not see her crest, you fool? It's the same as Victor's. Let her in."

The guards step aside, motioning for me to pass, and I enter the den, leaving the daylight behind. I expected to be swallowed by darkness, however, sconces flicker up the immense cave walls like stars twinkling in an infinite universe. I've never seen anything like it. Not even in the midnight sky. I almost can't tell what is up or down as the lights cast an amber glow across the polished stone floor. A reception desk made of granite is a few feet ahead, with an Omega dressed in a tailored suit and her hair quaffed in an updo. Who did she sleep with to get this job?

Beside the desk is a tunnel going left and another going right, but I can't see what's beyond them as the glow of the sconces fade. This den is so different from mine. We live in a Victorian near Alamo Square, where tourists arrive in busloads to take pictures of the Painted Ladies or sit on the steps of the Full House house.

And we certainly don't have a fancy reception desk. Or a pretty Omega to greet our guests.

Her gaze meets mine, and she pauses from doodling little hearts across the pages of a notepad with the letter D in the center. "May I help you, ma'am?"

"Yes. I'm here to see my uncle, Victor Gonzalez. I've come with news about his sister Valeria."

"Do you have an appointment?" She runs her finger down a ledger, so I slap my palm against the page and read her name scribbled on a disposable coffee cup.

"Sylvia, is it? I am Nola Santos. Daughter of Antonio and Valeria Santos." When her wide-eyed gaze snaps to me, I nod. "Yes, that's right, and I have a message of great urgency. So I don't have time for this, Sylvia."

"My apologies, ma'am. I didn't see your crest. I'll alert your uncle right away."

She picks up a landline, dials a few numbers, and, within seconds, is speaking with someone. I can't hear the reaction on the other end when she utters my name, but her sheepish eyes flash to me like a silent confirmation to whoever is on the other line that I am indeed standing here and asking for my uncle. She hangs up the phone and clears her throat.

"Your uncle said to stay put. He'll be here within five minutes."

"Good." I unbutton my coat. "I could use water while I wait."

"Yes, ma'am." Sylvia nods and disappears to grab my refreshment.

It's not like me to be authoritative or rude, but Ingrid and Cole said I must show backbone here. Mateo won't want to align himself with someone weak.

Five minutes feels like an eternity by the time my uncle arrives. When I whip around, he looks exactly as I remember, except his dark hair is now peppered with grey on the sides. His smile is broad and gleaming across his deeply tanned skin with bright white teeth as he stretches his arms, and I'm transported back to being a little girl when he used to visit us.

Unfortunately, the severing of our packs and his duties as Mateo's right hand has kept him too busy over the years.

"Nola! Look at you. Hermosa como tu madre."

Saying I'm beautiful like my mother hits me like a sledgehammer when he pulls me in for an embrace. I'm about to break his heart, and I might throw up in the process. Tío Victor releases me but holds my arms out in appraisal.

"How are you a full-grown adult! Last time I saw you, you were still a chiquitita. Your aunt Sarai will be so happy to see you. How old are you now, eighteen?"

"Twenty-two."

"Wow. Time has passed so quickly." He shakes his head, but then glances over his shoulder and whispers with furrowed brows, "But why have you come here?"

"Tío..." I take his hands, look into his eyes, and swallow hard. "Something happened on Saturday night. There was an accident. A drunk driver struck my parent's car."

"A drunk driver? Is Valeria ok?"

"No, Tío." I look at our hands and close my eyes. "My parents were killed on impact. The coroner said-"

"Wait." Tío Victor pulls away and begins rubbing his forehead as if a migraine just formed. "Valeria is... dead?"

"Yes, but she didn't suffer."

He looks at me with a watery gaze and steps back, his hand going to his chest, where he squeezes the material of his shirt. There's a flash of yellow in his eyes and tufts of fur fight to emerge from his button-up shirt, but my uncle takes a few deep breaths, quelling his wolf.

I bet he wants to run for the tallest hill and howl at the sky.

I know I do. Yet I'm still processing and would give anything to shift and keep running.

He clears his throat, wipes away tears, and urgently takes my elbow, guiding me towards the left tunnel. "Come with me. You must speak with Mateo. With your father gone, you're not safe. I've seen wolves turn on each other before their Alpha is in the ground. There is no way I'll let you be ripped to shreds."

"Cole and Ingrid think I should ask him to take in my pack. Do you think he would be open to forming an alliance?"

My uncle pauses in the tunnel, looks around, and says, "Between you and me, things have never been the same since things fell apart years ago. Whether Mateo wants to admit it or not, we've been weak for years. He needs this alliance as much as you do."

Squaring my shoulders, I nod. "Then let's not waste any more time. Take me to Mateo."

We continue walking through the tunnel, and it spills into another cave that serves as a common area where countless pack members congregate at dining tables eating breakfast. Meanwhile, Omegas mop the ground or pick up empty plates. Heads turn our way as my uncle steers me past them and toward another tunnel in this stone labyrinth. I've seen some of these wolves around the city before. On those occasions, we gave each other polite nods, acknowledging what we are as shifters.

However, this time, the men stare like I'm wearing their dinner, causing their partners to curl an arm around them and mark their territory with a low growl I can hear on a wavelength. But they have nothing to worry about. My standards are higher.

I want a wolf, not a damn huskie.

Tunnel after tunnel, we move past other pack members who stare curiously. I'm an outsider, yet I wear a well-known crest, so it doesn't take long before the whispers echo as I twitch my ears to listen. I'm both amused and anxious by their reactions. They know who I am, and if our packs join forces, I hope they respect me. We pass through another tunnel, but it dead-ends into an oak door taller than us and has Enforcers guarding it.

My uncle pauses and turns to me. "When we enter Mateo's living quarters, I will introduce you. He already knows who you are, but this meeting needs to be formal. Think of it as a business deal. State your case and why it's a good opportunity for both of you."

"Tío..." I squeeze his hand. "I'm nervous."

"Don't be. I'll be right by your side and help you if he opposes the idea, but I doubt he will."

"Gracias por hacer esto."

"No need to thank me, mi muñeca. It's my job to look after you now. It's what Valeria would have wanted."

The guards step aside when my uncle approaches the door and pushes against the thick oak with both hands. We enter a small cave, where two velvet couches sit in the middle of the room with a flickering fire pit between them and a fur rug spread underneath. Further ahead, Mateo stands behind a desk, his fingers moving across the pages of an inventory book. He's more handsome than I thought-in a way that actors like Gerard Butler maintain their rugged sexiness well into their fifties. He glances up and removes his reading glasses when my uncle motions to me.

"Mateo, I'd like you to meet my niece, Nola Santos."

"A beauty like her mother. It's a pleasure." He crosses the room, his hand extended for me to shake. "You're a long way from your den. What errand has your father sent you on that brings you to my chambers?"

This Alpha has no idea what happened to my parents. I glance at my uncle, and he nods encouragingly. So, I swallow a breath and release word vomit. "My parents were killed in a tragic accident on Saturday, which means my pack is left without its leaders. It means I'm vulnerable to a mutiny as others salivate over my father's throne. I'm strong and fully prepared to step up as a leader, but there is one problem: I don't have a mate worthy of leading my pack with me. So, I've come here to propose we merge our packs to keep mine protected."

"Oh... I was not aware." He furrows his brows and looks away, rubbing the stubble on his chin, his voice is a bit strained. "Your father was a good man. We butted heads toward the end, but I respected his choice to lead his own pack. Tell me, is Cole still his right hand?"

"Yes."

"So if he's still around, why hasn't he stepped into your father's shoes?"

"Cole and Ingrid say that leading is my birthright, so they want to guide and stand by me the way they did with my parents. They believe an alliance will allow me to keep my rank."

Mateo nods, rubbing the grey stubble on his chin. "What's in it for me?"

"With respect, I think you know what an alliance could mean for you. We were once one pack, a force others feared to double cross, and we can be that again. You can inherit my pack and be their Alpha."

His gaze rolls over me, but not in a hungry way the other wolves scrutinized me. Instead, it's as if he's assessing my worth. "How old are you, Nola?"

"Twenty-two."

"My son, Darwin, is twenty-four and has just returned home from living the reckless life of a bachelor on the East Coast. You should meet. You're also right on time for lunch. Follow me. We can discuss what an alliance might look like if I agree."

Mateo walks ahead of us, so I look at my uncle, and he winks, but I don't like the sound of Darwin. Living the reckless life of a bachelor tells me he thinks he's hot shit.

We pass through a hallway made of stone, with doors on the left and an archway to the right that reveals a combined living room and dining room. If it weren't for the bright, flickering sconces, I'd have difficulty finding my way, and I don't know how these people can live here without natural light. They must have vitamin D deficiencies.

An Omega sets the finishing touches on the table, so we take a seat and Mateo nestles into the chair at the head of the table.

"Where are Lenora and Darwin?" he asks.

"On their way, Sir." She bows and exits the room.

Seconds later, the two in question waltz into the dining room as if they meant to be fashionably late. Mateo introduces Lenora as his wife, and she's a total babe with sun-kissed skin and curves like Sofia Vergara. She exchanges pleasantries in Spanish when my uncle introduces me and kisses my cheeks. Behind her is a tall silhouette, and when she pulls away, my breath hitches as my eyes land on Darwin.

He's handsome like his father but perhaps a few degrees hotter, and he obviously knows that, so I look away as if my stomach isn't backflipping with butterflies. His dark wavy hair and deeply tanned skin look as if he's been kissed by the sun gods. Lenora introduces us, but I pretend to be unimpressed when we shake hands.

Apparently, he calls my bluff because the smug little shit settles into the chair across from me, his gaze lingering as he smooths a cloth napkin over his lap. He's smirking like he wants to eat me for lunch, and suddenly, those butterflies in my stomach are more like wasps, ready to sting the smile off his face.

This isn't going to work.

I already can't stand him.