Page 12 of Chaos Claimed

Jacob shifted awkwardly. “I... I don’t wanna press charges.”

Gilmore narrowed his eyes. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

Whatever had happened, Jacob had had the fear of god put into him. But Santiago’s grudge against the human was far from over. The son of a bitch had set him up, had ruined his evening with Percy.

And cost him his garlic bread.

Gilmore looked like he wanted to spit nails. His nostrils flared as he stared between them, jaw ticking. “You expect me to just let him go?”

“I expect you to open that cell door,” Matias replied. “Legally, you don’t have a choice.”

The deputy’s mouth flattened into a grim line. He looked like he was chewing glass. Santiago wanted to chuckle, to flip the guy off for setting him up. But this went so much deeper than a simple arrest.

Rico’s presence—and Santiago was convinced it was the hyena alpha—meant Gilmore was working with him.

With exaggerated slowness, he reached for his keys. Santiago met his gaze head-on, his stance relaxed, but there was nothing casual about the tension radiating off him. The deputy unlocked the cell and pulled the door open with a creak.

“You’re free to go, Mr. Garcia.”

“Try not to sound so heartbroken,” Santiago said dryly as he stepped out.

Gilmore ignored him, turning on his heel and stalking off, the weight of his fury trailing behind him like a shadow. Seconds later, Rico followed, but his gaze locked on to Santiago before he disappeared around the corner.

Prick.

As they exited the station, Santiago glanced sideways. “Thanks for showing up when you did.”

Matias nodded once. “You thought for a second I’d leave you in Gilmore’s hands?”

“Not a single doubt in my mind.”

The hyena may have come to gloat. He may have come to start something worse. But he'd miscalculated one key thing.

The Salvador pack didn’t fold. It circled, because family didn’t leave family behind.

* * * *

Night had fully descended, with the sun long gone beyond the horizon. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees, while the moon hung in the sky like a glowing pearl against the dark velvet.

Santiago stood in his driveway, uncertain whether to turn right toward his house or left toward Percy’s. For two months, Santiago had made his feelings clear, hoping for a sign from Percy that he wanted to take things further.

But everything changed when Tito traumatized Percy.

Santiago turned right and sank onto his porch steps with a sigh, rubbing his chest as his nerves felt scraped raw.

As far as he knew, Percy had no idea about the existence of wolves. Telling him would be challenging, and forming a bond after what Tito did would be even more difficult.

Santiago wished he could kill Tito a hundred times over. The image of Percy in the hospital bed, surrounded by tubes and IV lines, still haunted him.

Diablo settled next to him on the steps, leaning back on his elbows, ankles crossed, and stretching his legs out like he owned the night. “Figured you’d be at Percy’s door the second you got out.”

“Figured you’d be in a spaghetti coma by now.”

With a smirk, Diablo glanced over at him. “Suero was one granny cookie away from full-blown adoption,” he said, his voice a low rumble of amusement. “Hovered like Macey was made of glass. Arms twitchin’. Tray in hand like he was defusing a bomb.”

Santiago raised an eyebrow. “You’re lying.”

“Hmm. Am I though?” He thrust his arms out and whispered dramatically, ‘“Here, let me get that.’ Like she couldn’t handle picking up garlic bread. Swear, he was ready to mop the ceiling if she asked.”

---