Page 29 of Marked By Alphas 2: Claimed

Marcus stepped forward first, every inch the diplomatic alpha. “Marcus Stone, ma’am. Eldest brother and pack alpha.”

“Hmm.” Imo pulled out an actual notebook. “Age?”

“Mom,” Luke groaned.

“Thirty-two,” Marcus answered, looking somewhat bemused as Imo scribbled notes.

“Occupation?”

“CEO of Stone Industries and?—”

“He means he’s stupid rich,” I supplied helpfully.

“Kai!” Maria scolded, but Imo’s eyes lit up with maternal approval.

“Rich? How rich?” She leaned closer to the screen. “Good family? Old money?”

“Mom!” Luke groaned again.

“What? I worry about Kai’s future! Big house?” She peered past Marcus, taking in the manor’s great room. “Ah! Very big house. Good, good. Proper living space for my Kai.”

“We own most of Cedar Grove,” Marcus offered diplomatically, which made Imo beam like he’d just presented his royal credentials.

“Most of—” She started scribbling furiously in her notebook. “Luke! Write this down. Very important.”

“I’m not making a spreadsheet of your son-in-law’s assets, Mom.”

“Why not? I made one for you!”

“You what?—”

“Next!” Imo turned her attention to Derek, leaving Luke spluttering indignantly.

Derek squared his shoulders like he was facing a military inspection. “Derek Stone, ma’am. Thirty. Head of security and former military commander?—”

“Military?” Imo’s eyes sparkled with fresh approval. “What rank?”

“Special Forces captain, ma’am.”

“Ah!” More furious scribbling. “Strong protector for my Kai. Very good. Combat training?”

“Multiple disciplines,” Derek answered, looking both amused and bewildered at this enthusiastic interrogation.

“He’s the scary one,” Luke cut in.

“I prefer ‘tactically intimidating,’” Derek corrected with a grin that made Imo reach for her bells again, though she was still nodding approvingly.

“Good combination,” she declared. “Rich alpha”—she gestured to Marcus—“strong protector”—she pointed at Derek. “Luke! Add to spreadsheet!”

“Mom, I’m not making a supernatural husband spreadsheet!”

“Already made one,” she said, making me choke on air.

“And the baby?” She pointed at Caleb, who spluttered.

“I’m twenty-seven! And I handle all our tech operations and investments. Stanford MBA, specialized in?—”

“Ah!” Imo’s notebook was getting quite full. “Smart one! Good with modern things, yes? Can help Kai with computer, phone, all technology?”

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