A car drives up behind us, gravel crunching as it slows to a stop. The driver door opens and closes as a voice calls out, “Yo, what’s for dinner?” Jordy heads straight toward us. Noisy bastard.
“What’s—”
“We’re neighbors,” I tell her as he nears. “His house is the one right over there, through the trees.” I point toward his partially concealed home on our left. If you look just right, you can make out the large bay window and brightly painted yellow door. A constant reminder of a time when Jordy’s mom was around. Before she left the Pack and all of her children behind with barely a backward glance.
“Please tell me your mom’s going to feed me. Your pops is killing me with these twelve hour patrols and I need some fucking calories in me before my stomach decides to eat itself.”
“Come on, cabrón. Let’s see what she’s got.”
Isa follows behind and as soon as we’re inside, we’re enveloped in the heady smell of my mother’s cooking.
“Mamá,” I shout into the house, knowing she can’t be far and that her acute shifter hearing would have heard our arrival. I check the stove, lifting the lid off a large stockpot, finding fresh warm tamales steaming inside.
“Hijo, no toques,” Don’t touch that, she admonishes just as she turns a corner. I’m about to ask her what’s wrong, because my mom only ever makes tamales for two occasions. A holiday like Thanksgiving or Christmas, or because my pops is upset about something—usually where I’m concerned—and she’s trying to smooth things over the only way she knows how. With food. But before I can ask, she spots Isa and her eyes widen in surprise.
“You brought home a girl?” Her accent is thick, but her English is clear as she takes Isa in from head to toe and a wide smile spreads across her face. Fuck. I don’t think I thought this all the way through.
“Mija, let me see you.” My mother pulls Isa toward her, not bothering to introduce herself or offer any sort of hello before spinning her around and taking her in. “A new wolf!” It’s a statement not a question so I say nothing.
Isa accepts this like it’s completely normal, a hesitant smile on her face as she circles back around to face my mother. My mom is a small woman, a few inches shy of five feet making Isa, who’s tiny compared to me, look tall for once.
“You’re beautiful,” my mother tells her, leaning in to give Isa a kiss on the cheek.
Isa returns the gesture. “Thank you. I’m Isabella.” Her voice is small, but her smile is genuine.
“And how long have you been seeing my son?” she asks, and I groan while Jordy chuckles.
“Mamá!”
“What? A mother should know these things. You bring a beautiful girl home, a wolf no less, and I’m not allowed to ask questions?”
I shake my head. “Not a one. Don’t scare away the first girl I’ve introduced you to.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Castillo, Isa here is mine.” Jordy tosses his arm around Isa’s shoulders.
My mother’s frown is immediate, forcing me to bite off a laugh. “Tell him you won’t feed him unless he gives her back.”
Her eyes, lined with age, spark with mischief and she smiles.
Jordy growls. “Not cool, bro. Not. Cool.”
I tug Isa from his arms careful of her injuries. She comes willingly and I tuck her beside me, leading her to the table. I’m just as hungry as Jordy. He wasn’t kidding when he said our twelve-hour patrols have been killer. Between that and school, I hardly find enough time to eat, sleep, and shower.
When Isa’s back is to my mother, my mom’s concerned eyes meet mine and she makes a small gesture silently asking the question I knew was coming. I shake my head. Unsure how to answer. She’s thrilled Isa is a wolf. We don’t have many females in our Clan which is why each one is heavily protected. But she’s also concerned with how Isa came to be here. Why she hasn’t seen her before when I’ve clearly known her for a while. I wish I had answers for her. And her lack of knowledge means whatever agreement my pops and Kline have with one another, is on the down low. He isn’t one to usually keep secrets from his mate.
I give a small shake of my head, hoping she’ll drop it. At least for now.
Thankfully, she trusts me, so with a satisfied nod, Mom returns to the stove, dishing up three plates of food while we take our seats. Within a few short minutes, rice, beans, and tamales are in front of me and I don’t hesitate to dive in. Jordy eats like he’s been starved, which earns him a beaming smile and a second helping. Mom won’t eat until Pops comes home from the Compound so after making sure we’re all settled, she retreats to her room.
The Compound is on the same stretch of land but as all of our Clan Alphas do, he spends more time there then in his own home. He’s tried convincing mom to move into the Compound. It’d make life a hell of a lot more convenient, but she refuses. She wants there to be some measure of separation if only for her sanity. And I can’t say that I blame her. I want to ask if that’s what was going on. If maybe they were just rehashing one of their age old arguments? But our family is private and she would be embarrassed if I brought up family matters in front of guests, so I’ll wait to talk to her when Isa’s gone.
The first few minutes we focus
