They didn’t exile him—they humiliated him instead. Kept him in the pack, just close enough to see what he’d never have: a bond like our parents’, respect like our dads’ , sons like us.
Carlos inherited all the charm and none of his mother’s brain, unfortunatelly.
He was a serial womanizer with a jaw too smug for its own good and hands that wandered where they weren’t welcome. Always bragging. Always looking.
Mated she-wolves, omegas, didn’t matter. If it had legs and boobs, Carlos tried.
One of these days, someone was going to rip his throat out.
And judging by the way Kingsley lost his damn mind, today might’ve been the day someone finally paid the price for Carlos’s mouth.
We figured it out quick enough. Carlos had been running that sewer he calls a mouth about the new doctor—just
