Page 12 of Ascendant King

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Cade asked. “Weareheading into enemy territory.”

“We’re heading intoCastilloterritory.” I gritted out the words, not realizing how true they were until I said them.

The expression on Cade’s face indicated that he didn’t see much of a difference. He raised an eyebrow and pointedly glanced out the window again.

In the bright California sunlight, the town of Flores looked sun bleached. All the vehicles were covered in a fine layer of dust from the fields. The storefront signs were cracking and discolored. Gabe parked in front of the diner, the SUV pulling up beside us.

“You sure, boss?” Gabe looked up and down the street, but so far, we hadn’t drawn any attention.

I stared at the diner, the mint-green sign faded to nearly yellow. The name of the café was painted on the plate glass window, the hours next to the door, along with a sign for the Lions Club and the local high school.

Above that was a logo that made my jaw clench. A stylized capitalGPwith a flaming skull underneath was painted prominently above the high school mascot. Once, that was where the Castillo Pack logo had been: a howling wolf, the wordsCastillo Packframing it above and below.

My mother would wrangle us all into the café for Saturday morning breakfast—pancakes and bacon, eggs over medium so that the yellow yolks spilled over the plate.

“Are we going in?” Cade asked, still looking out the window instead of at me.

“Yeah. We’re going in.” I opened my door, my pack following behind me. Including Gabe, I’d brought eight wolves with me. Not enough to empty out Los Santos and leave Nia on her own, but enough that they could work as a king’s guard.

No alpha should travel without seconds, and having them at my back gave me the confidence to open the door and step inside.

The lighting was dimmer, and it took my eyes a second to adjust, but when they did, I was back in the past. The booths were the same color: the red fake leather cracking, a colorful contrast to the off-white tabletops. Stools lined the countertop, and I remembered spinning on those, Batel twirling me until I almost vomited, and Mom barked at us to go run around outside before the food arrived.

Even the signage was the same: tacky classic Coca-Cola advertisements on the walls, a few faded pennants from when the high school had won high school playoffs in the sixties and seventies.

The door finally jangled shut, Cade bringing up the rear, although he stepped through the eight wolves to reach me, the pack letting him, as though he still had all the privileges of being the alpha’s mate.

“Can I help you?” The waitress was young, barely out of high school, still wearing braces, her eyes darting between us.

A few of the wolves with me wore the patch of our new pack, the stylized wordsLos Santosturning into a city. Her eyes dropped to the patches and searched us, clearly looking for the alpha.

People in Flores might not know our pack by name, but she could obviously recognize a rival pack when she saw one.

“Just here for lunch,” I said. “Can we still sit anywhere?”

“Um…” The girl trailed off, something in her tone alerting the cook in the back. He leaned through the small window until he saw us, then came around through the swinging doors, a large knife in his hand.

“We don’t want any trouble here. We’re not involved in any territory disputes.” The cook, Morris, looked the same, grayeraround the edges, crow’s feet in the corners of his eyes, but I recognized him immediately.

He would sneak extra bacon to me and Albert. Mom never required that he pay her for protection, but he also always waved off the bill for eight people on a Saturday morning. Once, she’d come back late, tired. Dad had hugged her tight, murmuring that she had done all she could.

The next Saturday, the café had been closed, everything dark. The Saturday after that too.

When it opened up the next month, Morris had still been gone, one of the guys from the pack filling in in the back. Castillo Pack had kept the place running for almost two months until Morris came back, still wearing black for his wife, Thelma.

What had Ghost Pack done for him? Had they done anything remotely equal to what my mother had by bringing him food, making sure his business didn’t go under when he was in the worst grief of his life? Or was his loyalty that cheap that he didn’t even think twice before scraping off my mother’s logo and putting up theirs?

“We aren’t here for trouble either.” I looked around. “But for someone who’s not involved in territory disputes, you’ve got Ghost Pack’s patch on your window. That makes you Ghost Pack territory.”

Morris froze, staring at me without recognition, but then shook his head. “What can I get you?”

His flat words didn’t have an uptick at the end.

I kept my eyes ahead, not looking behind, and jerked my head toward the booths. I could hear the wolves shifting, sliding into the fake leather seats. Cade followed me, and we took our own booth, the eight other wolves crammed into the two on either side of us.

The waitress came over, her knees obviously shaking, handing out menus and stuttering over the lunch special.

“Get whatever you want,” I directed my pack. “It’s on me.”