by L E Franks
Table of Contents
PRODIGAL WOLF
Blurb
Copyright Acknowledgement
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
About the Author
Trademarks Acknowledgment
MLR PRESS AUTHORS
GLBT RESOURCES
PRODIGAL WOLF
Wolves and Waves ~ Book One
LE FRANKS AND SARA YORK
mlrpress
www.mlrpress.com
All his Alpha wants is to show Carlo who he really is, and where he belongs. But Carlo Montefiore is a man fighting his instincts, memories, and responsibilities. His beachside home was supposed to provide sanctuary, but pack politics, unruly roommates, and human neighbors at risk of discovering that shifters exist, are making life anything but peaceful.
Twinks Kevin and Grady have their own problems. Two college freshmen are no match for a couple of hot wolves who like to play chase. If they don’t stop playing games they’ll miss the biggest thing to happen in their young lives—love.
Copyright Acknowledgement
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2013 by LE Franks and Sara York
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Published by
MLR Press, LLC
3052 Gaines Waterport Rd.
Albion, NY 14411
Visit ManLoveRomance Press, LLC on the Internet:
www.mlrpress.com
Cover Art by Jared Rackler
Editing by Kris Jacen
ebook format
Issued 2013
This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher.
CHAPTER ONE
Angelo stared at the box in his hand, turning it over twice before placing it in the center of his desk. The key to the box was stowed carefully in the safe, untouched since the Alpha’s death. Before being locked away, Constantine Montefiore had worn it every day, hanging from a fine gold chain above his heart. Before Con, his grandfather held that honor and before them both, all the other Montefiore men for the last five hundred years had let the key hang around their neck, accepting it as a symbol of the weight and responsibility that went with being leader of the Montefiores.
When Angelo had been given the title of Alpha, he chose to lock it away instead of wearing the key, not out of disrespect for their tradition, but because of the immense love he had for Constantine. Con and Carlo had been the only family left to him after the death of his foster mother, and despite the honor he’d been given, he was no Montefiore—the key belonged to another.
Not long before Con died he’d taken Angelo aside, asking him to step into the role as guardian for Carlo and leader of their pack in the event of his death. At nineteen Angelo had no sense of his or anyone else’s mortality. If Con had asked him to eat glass or walk to the moon, he would have agreed without question – so of course he said yes. But nothing had gone the way he thought it would. At twenty he suddenly found himself in the role of consoling the inconsolable, and leading a pack that didn’t want to be led. Con’s death had destroyed Carlo and it had taken years for both the boy and the pack to heal.
It was the Marine Corps that ruined the peace that had settled onto Carlo and the pack by calling in their marker. Angelo had enlisted before Con’s death, and once Carlo turned eighteen, the Marines issued Angelo his orders to deploy. But after stalling for three years, he’d run out of options. He had to serve his two year stint in Afghanistan with the rest of his unit.
Leaving a teenager in charge of one of the most venerable packs in the world was a controversial decision. The pack Board of Elders had threatened to remove the Montefiore family from control of the pack altogether. They questioned Angelo’s decision to entrust Carlo with such a large responsibility. It was only after Con’s Beta, Charles Malik, and his enforcer, Daniel Richards, stepped in, that they backed down and an agreement was struck. Charles would be there to guide Carlo full time. The rest of the Elder Board would be available to assist if needed. Angelo had correctly interpreted the offer of assistance to mean constant interference—but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He’d had two weeks to report to the transport plane; at least Carlo had strong wolves to watch his back. As one of the conditions Carlo readily agreed to, he deferred his admission to Pepperdine University in California for two years. Angelo had fought this, but ultimately someone of the Montefiore family needed to be in charge. With Angelo out of the country, California was simply too far away from the pack.
Two years had been too long, and trouble came immediately on the heels of his return. When he’d left, Carlo had been moody, refusing to say goodbye, and their communication during his deployment had been sporadic—he’d been looking forward to seeing Carlo again, to reestablish the closeness that he’d been missing. After being rerouted twice during his flight and spending a total of thirty-eight hours in transit, he’d been held on base until being officially released at five-thirty in the morning. Hiring a car to drive him home seemed easier than dragging one of his wolves out of bed.
The sweet smell of summer jasmine and wild roses hung heavy in the early morning air as they emerged from the last bend in the drive; the great old house spread out in front of him, a welcome sight. It was the number of cars parked in front of the house that gave him pause.
Stepping into the foyer, Angelo had to use his wolf vision to see through the gloom. It looked like a party had been going on for hours and was now finally winding down. There were empty beer bottles and drink cups scattered across the antique furniture, food containers and pizza boxes covering every available surface. He stepped carefully over a couple of teenagers cuddled together on a three hundred year old Abusson rug. The music was pounding and a few bodies still swayed in the low light. Apparently someone had remembered to close all the drapes—though Angelo vaguely wondered if Carlo had bothered to open them at all since he’d been gone. The place stank like a frat house, or a barracks.
Finding Carlo grinding against a teenager and oblivious to his entrance in the room made Angelo’s teeth grit. Having Charles drop by with a welcome home breakfast a short time later and bringing with him several other Elders, just in time to witness the scattering guests and him tearing into Carlo … was unfortunate.
What should have been handled privately between Carlo and himself became a public spectacle instead with Bella Tabrizi leading the charge to strip Carlo of all responsibility effective immediately. She proceeded to skewer Carlo’s management of the pack with a long list of perceived grievances all the while waving around a basket of freshly baked blueberry muffins. At least the fragrant baked goods helped to dispel the stench in the room.
Matters weren’t helped when Charles produced a letter from Pepperdine notifying them that Carlo had thirty days t
o accept his place in the current freshman class. That set off a whole new argument between them. Carlo wanted to stay close and enroll with Joey at USCB and Angelo was forced to put his foot down—Constantine had been adamant that Carlo attend Pepperdine as a Legacy student. The funds had been set aside, and his mother’s pack was close by in Malibu.
So instead of a happy reunion he’d been envisioning, Angelo had a seething twenty-year-old slamming out of the house, refusing to speak with him. Within seventy-two hours, Carlo had packed his car and left for California—their relationship, once closer than brothers, now a smoking ruin.
Stroking the box with his fingers, Angelo was still amazed that four years had flown by, leaving him wondering once again, if he’d made the right decision. Carlo would be home soon, and then things would change.
The door squeaked open and he grabbed the box, shoving it in a drawer. He spun around, catching the black curls of his Beta. “Francesca.” He rose from his seat and stepped around the desk.
“Please, Alpha, sit. You shouldn’t rise to greet me.”
He pulled her into a hug and smiled down at her. “You’ve got to be kidding me—and what’s with the Alpha shit, turning formal on me? It’s been three full months and I’ve missed you. How’s your arm, really?”
“I’m good. See.” Francesca lifted her arm high, something she couldn’t do before, then punched him for effect, winking. “How’s that, Alpha?”
He rubbed his shoulder, not surprised that her blows stung once again. “Fighting form, I see.”
“Yeah. I know I didn’t want to go and leave you without support, but you were right, I did need it.” Francesca pulled him into a hug, squeezing tight. “Missed you.”
“I missed you too.” Angelo disentangled himself from Francesca and moved to stare out the broad window overlooking the pond. The reunion with Carlo wouldn’t be this easy. “So, they were able to take care of the scar tissue easily?” He asked almost absentmindedly, trying to focus on Francesca and not Carlo.
“Yes, the new laser treatment worked wonders. Too bad it’s not available to the population at large; those strings you pulled to get me in were amazing. I can’t thank you enough.”
“It’s been six months since you took that bullet for me, for which I’m eternally grateful. I’m glad it worked.”
“Yeah, you know I’d do anything for you. Speaking of which, is there anything I need to know about Carlo, has he stopped by yet?”
“Carlo? Why would he come by when he’s in California? Graduation isn’t for a few more days.”
“Angelo,” Francesca lowered her voice, her gaze, and her head, “Carlo is living on Hilton Head Island. He’s at the beach house with some guy he brought back from California. I understand Joey moved down there as well… I thought you were....”
Angelo froze, his thoughts spinning out of control. His wolf rose, demanding satisfaction. Why hadn’t anyone told him that Carlo was back? And why didn’t he know about Carlo’s …friend? Lover? More importantly, why hadn’t the man come to see him? This news changed everything.
“I’m sorry, I thought you knew,” Francesca whispered. “He’s been back for a while now—one of the kids ran into them at Chaplin Park. They’d been surfing at Burkes Beach.”
She squeezed his arm, and he wanted to shrug off her touch, to bat her hand away and display his rage. Instead, he sucked in a slow breath then ground his teeth together, trying like hell not to rip into Francesca. She wasn’t the problem.
“No, I had no clue.” Angelo’s body was vibrating with anger and sorrow. He’d made so many mistakes with Carlo. If only he could fix it, but how the fuck could he when Carlo wouldn’t even talk to him. He stalked across the room, unsure where he was going. The window drew him and he stared out onto the lawn of the Montefiore compound, thinking of the men who’d come before him. All of them were much better Alphas than he.
Francesca cleared her throat and moved beside him, her fingers twisting in her hair, a nervous air wafted off her and caught in his heightened wolf senses. “I haven’t said anything, but you do know there is still time. He just needs to—”
“Don’t say it.”
“Angelo, he deserves to—”
“No, I’ll handle this my way.”
She placed her hand on his arm, applying pressure. He could either turn to face her or ignore her. He turned, staring down into her bright brown eyes. Her lips twisted up into a sad smile. He didn’t want her pity.
“Angelo, he doesn’t see it.”
“There is nothing to see.”
Francesca squared her shoulders and stepped into his space. “Angelo, I may have been absent the last few months, and yes, when I was injured you should have replaced me. Thank you for not tossing me aside, but we’ve had too many years together, too many late nights drinking where you said more than you probably meant to say. Don’t play this game in my presence. I will defend you to my dying day, but I will not allow you to lie to me.”
His Beta had crossed the line and if she’d said those words to him in public he would’ve put her in her place, but she was right. They weren’t just Alpha and Beta, they were friends. Of course it didn’t help that everyone else thought he was straight. He could come out now, but when he’d first joined up, Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was in effect and he didn’t have a choice. Now he stayed in the closet out of habit, but Francesca knew him well. While others thought he was just busy, or hadn’t found the right woman to mate, Francesca was his inner circle, the one person who saw it all—well, all that he would show her—and she knew. What the hell would everyone do if he sank down in front of some guy and nuzzled his dick at the next pack party?
“I’ll handle Carlo in my own way. Now, about the pack, I need you to contact the Board of Elders. There’s some paperwork to be signed and the Board has to witness it, so let’s see who we can get here today.”
“Give me a list and I’ll get them here.”
“Thanks. I appreciate all that you do, but leave Carlo to me.”
“Fine, but let me give you his number; supposedly he’s changed it a few times in the past so he could avoid pack members.” Francesca scribbled the number on a notepad before she strode across the room, shutting the door behind her.
He opened the drawer where he’d stuck the box, pulling it out, smoothing his fingers over the wood before returning it to the safe. The Montefiore clan’s history was wrapped in stories that were more reminiscent of fairy tales than fact. One tale had the pack immigrating to the New World in the late eighteenth century from their ancestral home in the Emilia-Romagna region of Italy, fleeing from a mob of rioting villagers bent on revenge. According to the legend, the clan had been successfully hiding their true nature as shifters, until, Palo, the youngest son of the leader at the time, fell in love with the daughter of a powerful landowner. After months of negotiation, the pair was engaged to be wed the following spring; however, that winter, Palo discovered his betrothed in the arms of another. In his rage he shifted into his wolf form, killing the other man and severely maiming his fiancée. Upon regaining his human shape, he was so shocked at what he’d done that he threw himself off a mountain. Popular mythology being what it is, the story stuck.
The journal kept by Fausto Montefiore, head of the family at the time, told a more pedestrian tale. Angelo had been shown the journals written at the time by Fausto—the truth was more mundane. The pack had grown too large and Fausto had developed business contacts in New Orleans through his shipping business. He made a strategic decision to split his pack, sending a third to establish a plantation in the south. Over the years, more and more of the pack ended up in America until by the outbreak of the First World War they had completely relocated to America. The pack maintained key business and real estate holdings in Italy, retaining much of their culture, but managed them from South Carolina, the state where they eventually settled. The tradition of speaking Italian within the Montefiore family had been passed down to Carlo and Angelo, along with th
e other rights and responsibilities of being an Alpha. The Elders objected to Angelo’s lack of Montefiore blood when Con began training Angelo as Alpha. Eventually Carlo joined him in the lessons. Con’s decision proved to be prophetic at his death. Without that foresight, the pack would have been in shambles.
Angelo sighed and closed his eyes, wishing life wasn’t so difficult. He understood that this wasn’t a job he could quit or lose. People depended on him—it was a way of life for more than one hundred wolves worldwide and many more humans employed by the pack businesses developed over the centuries. While it was true that most of the pack interests did not require daily management, they did demand competent oversight and the Elder Board performed this role under his command. These elders were pack members appointed by the current Alpha, serving a life term unless removed for cause as determined by a pack tribunal.
Angelo sat down at his desk and picked up his phone, sliding his thumb over the screen before opening his contact list and typing in Carlo’s number. Each digit entered made his heart beat faster. Carlo had come home—well, not home but back to the area for some reason, and that gave Angelo hope. He switched to his text application and started a new message. He typed each word with care, grimacing as he finished the text. He scrolled up and read what he’d written wondering just when he’d become so sappy.
