Mated To The Mafia Werewolves

Arabella wasn’t as tired as she expected. She continued battling, and almost half of the members of the Salvatore house were already down. Although she couldn’t unleash her powers to the fullest, she had imbued her knife with magic, enhancing its effectiveness even more.

The enchanted blade caused immediate falls to anyone it touched, adding up to a high body count. Despite her victories, the number of foes she faced showed no signs of diminishing.

Sandro, absent since his departure, left her uncertain about his fate. Paolo’s absence suggested he wasn’t defeated, as Paolo would have returned if he had been. Alessia was also nowhere to be found; Arabella wondered if Paolo had taken her with him.

Yet, she was glad the merge hadn’t happened.

***

Running after Paolo led Sandro to an unfamiliar location. Uncertain of his whereabouts, he felt a rush of anxiety as his gaze fixed on what appeared to be a full moon at the room’s far end, shining brightly. Sandro, feeling a tingling sensation, shook his head, realizing it wasn’t the real moon.

However, the strange sensation persisted, hinting at an imminent transformation.

Sandro demanded, “Show yourself!” but received only grunts and scratching, with no response.

“I don’t believe running away suits an alpha werewolf. You should face even your fiercest adversary,” Sandro’s voice echoed in the room, but he received no response.

“This is just a waste of time,” he murmured, realizing he was speaking only to himself. Turning towards the doorway, he paused at a growl from behind.

As he turned, he locked eyes with the blackest wolf he had ever seen-black fur, black eyes, and black teeth dripping with blood. Whose blood had it feasted on? He pondered, hoping it hadn’t been Alessia, whom he had seen Paolo drag away.

The werewolf, presumably Paolo, advanced menacingly. It leapt, claws out, and Sandro narrowly dodged in the nick of time. Had he not, his left side might have suffered the wicked claws’ impact.

Cornered in the room, Sandro wanted to escape, but there seemed to be no exit in sight. Reluctantly, he realized he had no choice but to shift. Crouching, muscles popping, bones breaking and morphing, he transformed.

His eyes turned golden with red flecks, his dark fur resembling Paolo’s, and his gleaming white teeth bared as Paolo approached.

In his thoughts, Sandro mused, “You crave power; well, now I’m about to give it to you.” Both he and Paolo leapt simultaneously, colliding and thudding as they hit the ground.

Quickly recovering, Sandro unleashed his claws, slashing at Paolo’s fur, who countered with the same ferocity. They pounced, exchanging slashes, bites, and claws.

Sandro took the brunt of the hits, blood gushing from Paolo’s bite on his belly. Despite the injuries, Paolo appeared exhausted.

Paolo bolted out of the room, and Sandro, wounded but determined, pursued him.

On the way, he encountered Arabella, who exclaimed, “What the hell?” Unable to convey his identity in wolf form, Sandro realized Paolo had outsmarted him.

Paolo, now armed with a gun, had chosen the battlegrounds strategically, turning the situation to his advantage. Sandro felt trapped; even reverting from his wolf form, he doubted he could help Arabella now.

***

Thalia was beyond exhausted as more attackers continued pouring out of hiding places.

She wished they had struck during the full moon, making it easier for some to shift. Even if they had, the sun wouldn’t empower them; werewolves drew power only from the moon.

“The alpha needs to be beaten for this to stop. They’re tied to him,” Brianna’s words snapped Thalia out of her thoughts. She hoped Sandro was currently battling Paolo, putting an end to the influx of attackers, as she felt drained and lacked the willpower to continue the fight.

***

Arabella panted, keeping her eyes on Sandro, who whimpered while attempting to shift back. She also sensed a gun aimed at her from the corner of her eyes. “Sandro,” she muttered, her heart aching at his pain.

Desiring to help, she found herself unable to summon even the most basic of her powers.

“Please help Sandro,” Arabella whispered, glancing briefly skyward, though she knew her prayers wouldn’t be answered until the full moon.

“It’s enjoyable seeing you in pain,” Paolo remarked. Arabella observed his bruised cheeks, broken nose, and blood streaming down his head to his beard. Despite his injuries, he made no effort to clean up, using only his unharmed arm.

“It’s a good thing I am ambidextrous, huh?” he chuckled.

Unamused, Arabella breathed out and shook her head. “What do you want?” she asked.

“You’ve been asking that since you came here, and I never thought you would be this dumb,” Paolo replied.

“Also, I know I am going to die, so I don’t mind killing you. But be aware that I am not the only threat. Your children, too, will be a wonderful meal for bigger predators out there, and I won’t be able to contain my laughter wherever I go after this,” Paolo tossed his head back, chuckling.

“You’ll be going to hell after this!” Arabella declared, yanking on Paolo’s injured hand. He cried out in pain, allowing Arabella to run toward Sandro, who was still in wolf form. When she reached him, he began shifting back.

“Thank goodness,” she murmured, brushing a hand through his fur. “Now, you’ve gotten the big bad alpha angry!” Paolo yelled, aiming the gun at her and pulling the trigger.

“Duck, Bella!”

Time seemed to slow down. Arabella found herself back in Clarisse’s pack, Blaze running towards her in slow motion. Everything flashed before her eyes, and she heard several shots ringing out. For a moment, the world went silent.

Arabella wondered if it was the end, but then again, she was a Phoenix. Phoenixes often came back to life, but she had been cautioned not to get herself killed, doubting that the rule applied to her.

Closing her eyes briefly, she snapped them open as she felt a tug on her shoulder.

“Wake up, Bella!” Sandro growled, shaking her more.

“Sandro,” Arabella said, her hand cupping his face. She could feel him, and life didn’t seem to be slipping away from her. “Am I going to die?” she asked.

“No,” Sandro shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Then why are you crying?” she inquired, seeing the emotions on his face. “It’s because we won, Bella. Paolo is dead, and Blaze is avenged successfully,” Sandro muttered. Arabella glanced at herself, finding no blood, and saw Paolo on the floor surrounded by blood.

***

Thalia used the gun’s butt to strike an attacker in the head, having switched to using a gun since many attackers were armed. “Watch out, Elisha!” she warned as an assailant approached him.

“What?” Elisha asked, frowning. Noticing what Thalia was pointing at, he narrowly dodged, swiftly dispatching the attacker by ripping out his heart.

“What’s going on?” Thalia frowned as the attackers began falling one by one without being hit.

“I think it’s over,” Elisha whispered, approaching her.

“He’s dead,” Janice added, her gaze turning to Annalise. “He’s gone, Annalise.”

“Oh my goodness, Janice!” Annalise’s eyes welled up, and she rushed into her sister’s arms. “We are safe.”

“Yes, baby. We are definitely surviving this,” Janice affirmed, sporting a wide smile despite the tears streaming down her face.

***This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Arabella sat upright, bewildered. “How?” she stuttered.

“I was able to shift back in time, help you duck, and shoot at him,” Sandro explained, wincing.

Arabella’s eyes widened as she noticed Sandro’s bleeding shoulder. “You’re bleeding!” she exclaimed, gingerly touching the injury. “I am so sorry, Sandro. I am sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Sandro groaned as Arabella applied pressure to the wound. “I am going to live.”

Arabella nodded, tears brimming in her eyes, a mix of emotions overwhelming her. She didn’t want Sandro to end up like Blaze. Two people had taken bullets for her, and she had witnessed one of them die.

Cupping his face, ignoring her bloodied hands, she locked lips with him, catching him off guard. Sandro didn’t initially kiss her back, but Arabella persisted. She didn’t care if he responded; she wanted to express her gratitude.

“Dolcezza,” Sandro groaned, wrapping his arms around her and reciprocating the kiss. Arabella had never been happier hearing Sandro call her the sweet name. At this moment, she just wanted to hear him say more of it.

It was over, or maybe not, as Paolo had suggested. But for now, it was.