Page 174 of Carmichael's Omega

"But he's my family," I whisper. And it hurts.

"But you are a luna,Preciosa, so he treats you like one," the alpha says gently. "You must be that luna. What is best foryourpack, Cassidy?"

It sends a jolt of electricity down my spine. He's right. Alpha Alex is treating me like a luna. I didn't even think about that, but it's true. I close my eyes, thinking. "I don't know. What will it mean, first refusal of MateLess?"

"It means parties, galas where MateLess are obligated to attend to meet each other. It means wolves going to school with ClearHowl wolves. Maybe it even means living in ClearHowl for some time. No details have been discussed?" he asks gently.

I shake my head, 'no.'

"Then you can ask for conditions that benefit LoboGris, too,sí? Set time limits, make sure everything is written down and clearly stated,sí? Like any contract,Preciosa. When does he want an answer?"

"Maybe in twenty minutes?" Mattie says faintly with an edge of sarcasm.

The former alpha smiles and nods. "A smart alpha. And the alphason of ClearHowl is a powerful pup, so I hear."

"Conner," I say proudly. "He's our nephew."

The alpha straightens, locking eyes with me again. "A blood nephew?"

"Y-yes?" my answer is a squeak. "He's my sister's son."

He blows out a breath and nods. "So, the alphason of ClearHowl has a higher chance of being MateLess,sí?His father is MateLess, and your nephew is not from a truly-mated pairing."

"But I thought it wasn't genetic?" Mattie interjects.

Alpha Javier’s eyes find my brother, watching him closely before he nods, "sí, but if I were your Alpha Alex, I would leave nothing to chance. LoboGris is a pack of MateLess male wolves, little omega. Your uncle is hedging his bets."

"Should we agree?" I ask him, edging closer still.

He smiles at me. "What do you think?"

"I think we need money and supplies and other packs to ally with us," I say. "I hate admitting that there's anything wrong with the pack. What will Carmichael think if I do this when he's not here?" I babble.

The alpha chuckles lowly. "I am not a good male or mate,Preciosa, but listen to me.Mihijo, like any alpha, is not good at admitting weakness in himself or his pack. But I know this, you could burn this pack to the ground, and he would still worship you. He is smarter than his father,Diosagracias."

"We need this," I blow out my breath. "Thank you, Alpha," I say awkwardly.

He smiles. "I am glad my son is not as foolish as I, Cassidy. You are good for the pack, for him."

"So is Mattie," I tell him seriously.

He smiles, "sí, if you say so,Preciosa. I just thank the goddess that you both are here. Make your alliance."

---

Carmichael

It's early summer in Mexico. Nice weather for the most part, but the river is still running high from the spring runoff, and the nights are cool enough to feel the bite in your bones.

My wolves shift onto paws, blending with the desert night. The Beta stays on feet, as do half of his wolves. They'll carry the gear on their backs. One wolf will be on either side of those wolves as we all navigate the crossing. We'll cross three abreast, tied together, at a deep section of the river, unmanned by border patrol because of the dangers of swimming in the river here. The currents are strong, but with three across, we will make it.

It's pitch-dark, and the river flows quickly. Holt loses his balance first but is caught by the males he's tied to. Another male is knocked off his feet.

"Slow down," the Beta orders in a deep quiet voice. It's the only sound we make. The Cartel has people on the hills, watching. The roads, the airports, the towns, and cities. Eyes are everywhere, but they don't know we're coming on paws.

When the last male crosses, we separate the lines, and Holt, Rique, and I each take a small team to scout the hills. I drip onto the desert sand, but by morning all of the water will have long evaporated away, leaving nothing behind but some wolf tracks. Even those need to be hidden as much as possible. The Cartel could easily have wolves on their side. I trot in a wide circle, sticking to the harder rock as much as possible.

The first sentinel is practically sleeping. He's dead before he knows I'm there. I shift back to feet and remove his gun and radio. Fiddling with it, I change the radio frequency to the one Miranda chose earlier.

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