The hall beneath Regina was older than law.
Stone worn smooth by centuries of boots and blood, pillars scarred with claw and blade alike.
Alessandro stood at its center, unmoving, his shadow stretched long by torchlight like a warning no one dared ignore.
Across from him, Don Vittorio smiled.
It was not a pleasant smile.
It was the kind that suggested patience sharpened into cruelty.
“Well,” Vittorio drawled, hands folded behind his back, voice echoing faintly, “you’ve kept us waiting, Alpha.”
Alessandro did not return the greeting.
“Say why you’re here.”
Vittorio chuckled.
“Straight to business.
How refreshingly rude.”
A murmur rippled through the gathered packs—unease, irritation, curiosity.
Vittorio lifted a hand, silencing them with practiced ease.
“You guard your borders well,” he continued.
“Almost makes one nostalgic.”
Alessandro’s jaw tightened.
“You crossed three territories without permission.”
“And yet,” Vittorio replied lightly, “here I stand.
What the hell does that tell you?”
“That you’re reckless,” Alessandro said.
“Or desperate.”
Vittorio’s smile sharpened.
“Ah.
There it is.”
He stepped closer, boots striking stone with deliberate rhythm.
“You smell different these days, De Luca.”
Alessandro’s eyes flickered—wolf-still, dangerous.
“Choose your next words carefully.”
“Oh, I intend to.” Vittorio leaned in just enough to be heard by all.
“Your control is thinning.”
A low growl rolled through the chamber—instinctive, collective.
Vittorio laughed.
“Holi shit,” he said pleasantly.
“Even the walls feel it.”
Marco Vitale shifted at Alessandro’s side, tension coiled.
“You’re pushing your luck, bastard.”
Vittorio turned his gaze lazily.
“Beta dogs shouldn’t bark unless invited.”
Marco stiffened, teeth clenched.
Alessandro lifted a single finger—command.
Marco obeyed.
Silence returned.
Vittorio’s eyes gleamed.
“There it is.
Still the Alpha.”
Alessandro did not blink.
“You came to test me.”
“I came to confirm a rumor.”
Alessandro’s voice dropped.
“Say it.”
Vittorio inhaled slowly, theatrically.
“The human.”
The word struck stone like blood.
A tremor—subtle, unmistakable—passed through Alessandro’s chest.
Vittorio watched it with satisfaction.
“Her name has traveled far.”
Alessandro took a single step forward.
The torches flickered.
“You speak it,” he said quietly, “and you leave this hall alive only because I allow it.”
Vittorio grinned.
“Elara.”
The growl this time was not restrained.
Stone cracked beneath Alessandro’s boot.
Marco swore under his breath.
“Shit…”
Vittorio raised his brows.
“Ah.
So it’s true.”
Alessandro’s hands curled slowly, deliberately.
“You do not know what you’re invoking.”
“I know exactly what I’m invoking,” Vittorio replied.
“A weakness.”
The word echoed—weakness—and died violently in the air.
Alessandro’s voice was ice.
“You mistake restraint for mercy.”
“No,” Vittorio said softly.
“I recognize a bond waking.”
A ripple of shock passed through the gathered wolves.
Murmurs rose—disbelief, excitement, hunger.
Alessandro felt it then—the pull.
Not from the hall.
From her.
A sudden pressure behind his ribs, sharp and warning.
Elara.
He closed his eyes for half a breath.
Vittorio noticed.
Of course he did.
“How poetic,” Vittorio mused.
“An Alpha bound to a fragile thing.”
“She is under my protection,” Alessandro said.
Vittorio tilted his head.
“Is she?”
A pause.
Then, casually, “Because she walked the southern corridor last night.”
The bond flared—violent, immediate.
Alessandro’s control snapped just enough for the wolf to snarl.
Marco moved instinctively.
“That’s a lie.”
Vittorio shrugged.
“Is it?
Or did you simply not feel it?”
Alessandro’s breath turned measured, dangerous.
“You will leave Regina.”
“And miss this?” Vittorio laughed.
“Ridiculous.”
He stepped back, spreading his hands.
“Relax.
I did not touch her.”
The relief was sharp—and hated.
“But others,” Vittorio added mildly, “have noticed her.”
Alessandro’s voice turned lethal.
“You will not speak her name again.”
Vittorio’s gaze hardened.
“Too late.”
The torches flared.
“Your silence would have protected her,” Vittorio continued.
“But now?
Now she’s currency.”
Marco swore.
“You disgusting son of a—”
“Enough,” Alessandro snapped.
Vittorio leaned closer once more, voice low, intimate.
“Bring me the girl.”
The words struck like a blade between ribs.
The hall froze.
Alessandro felt the wolf surge—rage, possession, annihilation.
“You will not take her,” he said.
Vittorio smiled slowly.
“Then bring her to me.”
Alessandro laughed.
It was cold.
Broken.
Not human.
“You’ve made a grave mistake,” he said.
“Regina does not bargain with threats.”
Vittorio’s eyes gleamed.
“Then this becomes war.”
He turned to leave, then paused.
“Oh—and Alpha?”
Alessandro did not answer.
“When blood stains stone,” Vittorio said lightly, “it’s always the innocent who slip first.”
Then he was gone.
The hall erupted—voices, fury, disbelief.
Marco turned sharply.
“Alessandro—”
The Alpha was already moving.
Already reaching.
Already feeling her fear spike—distant, sudden.
His jaw clenched.
“Double the guards.”
“On Regina?”
“On Elara.”
Marco hesitated.
“If you cage her now—”
“She is already hunted,” Alessandro snarled.
“And I will not lose her.”
The bond answered—tight, burning.
Not fear.
Promise.
A rival Alpha has spoken Elara’s name.
Her anonymity is gone.
And war has found its reason.
Elara felt it before the bells rang.
It came like a pressure behind her eyes, sudden and sharp, as if the air itself had thickened.
She stopped mid-step in the western corridor, fingers tightening around the balustrade.
“Ah—” she whispered.
“What the hell…”
The estate was quiet.
Too quiet.
No servants.
No footsteps.
Even the ever-present hum of Regina felt muted, as though the stone had drawn a breath and refused to release it.
The bond stirred.
Not warmth.
Not longing.
Warning.
Her chest tightened, pulse spiking.
“Shit,” she muttered.
“Not again.”
She had learned to recognize the difference.
This was not Alessandro’s restraint.
This was his wolf.
Somewhere beneath the estate, Alessandro stood motionless, eyes fixed on nothing, hands braced against a slab of stone carved with old sigils.
Marco was still talking—something about perimeter routes, about council response—but the words slid past him.
The wolf had gone still.
That was worse than rage.
“Who saw her?” Alessandro asked quietly.
Marco stopped.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
A pause.
Then, carefully, “We haven’t confirmed—”
Alessandro turned.
The temperature in the chamber dropped.
“I asked,” he said, “who saw her.”
Marco swallowed.
“One of the outer sentries.
South corridor rotation.”
A beat.
“Name.”
“Luca Ferri.”
The wolf snarled.
Marco’s voice tightened.
“Alessandro—”
“He was reassigned last week,” Alessandro said slowly.
“By whose order?”
Marco hesitated.
That hesitation was answer enough.
“Sofia,” Alessandro said.
Marco exhaled sharply.
“She said it was for efficiency.”
“Efficiency,” Alessandro repeated.
“Interesting choice of word.”
The wolf surged—images flashing, instinct screaming.
Elara alone.
Eyes on her.
A name carried on another Alpha’s tongue.
Alessandro straightened.
“Bring Ferri,” he said.
“Now.”
“No witnesses,” Marco warned.
“If you act without council sanction—”
“Fuck the council,” Alessandro snapped.
Marco flinched.
“That’s exactly what Vittorio wants.”
Alessandro’s jaw tightened.
“Then I’ll deny him the pleasure.”
Above them, Elara’s breath hitched.
The pressure sharpened, twisting into something cold and crawling along her spine.
She leaned against the wall, palms slick.
“Uff… Alessandro?” she whispered, though she knew he couldn’t hear her.
The bond answered anyway.
A pulse.
A promise edged with violence.
Her knees nearly buckled.
“No,” she breathed.
“Don’t you dare.”
She pushed off the wall and moved—faster now, instinct guiding her away from open halls, toward shadowed stairwells.
Every sense felt heightened, raw.
Footsteps echoed behind her.
Not guards.
Not servants.
Measured.
Familiar.
She stopped abruptly and turned.
Sofia stood at the end of the corridor, hands clasped, expression composed.
“Elara,” she said pleasantly.
“Out walking alone?
How careless.”
Elara’s pulse thundered.
“Get out of my way.”
Sofia smiled.
“Such language.
Ridiculous.”
“What do you want?” Elara demanded.
“Because if this is another lecture—go to hell.”
Sofia’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re frightened.”
“Funny,” Elara shot back.
“So are you.”
A flicker—annoyance, quickly masked.
“You lied to me,” Sofia said.
Elara laughed once, sharp and humorless.
“Welcome to Regina.”
“That lie had consequences,” Sofia said.
“You drew attention.”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t want that,” Elara snapped.
“You reassigned the sentry.”
Sofia’s lips parted slightly.
So.
She hadn’t known Elara knew.
“How observant,” Sofia said coolly.
“Perhaps too observant for a human.”
Elara took a step forward.
“Did you tell him?”
Sofia tilted her head.
“Tell whom?”
“You know exactly who,” Elara said.
“Don Vittorio.”
Silence stretched.
Then Sofia sighed.
“Information travels.
Packs talk.”
“You used me,” Elara said, voice shaking with restrained fury.
“You leaked my movement.”
Sofia’s smile thinned.
“I tested the waters.”
“By throwing me to a rival Alpha?”
“By seeing how far Alessandro would go.”
The bond flared—hot, furious.
Elara gasped, clutching her chest.
“You’re insane.”
Sofia leaned closer.
“You are leverage.
Whether you like it or not.”
Before Elara could respond, the estate bells rang—deep, resonant.
Alarm.
Sofia stiffened.
“That’s… unexpected.”
Elara didn’t wait.
She turned and ran.
The wolf howled.
Not aloud—but through bone, through blood, through bond.
Alessandro felt it rip through him, control shattering.
“Marco,” he growled, voice barely human.
“Lock down the estate.”
“Alessandro—”
“Now.”
Marco hesitated only a second before nodding sharply.
“Yes, Alpha.”
Alessandro was already moving.
Stone cracked beneath his feet as he tore through the corridors, senses flaring.
He could feel her fear—bright, sharp, wrong.
Too close to another scent.
Too close to danger.
The wolf surged, furious at restraint.
Mine, it snarled.
Threat.
“No,” Alessandro hissed.
“Not yet.”
But the wolf did not care for politics.
Elara burst into the inner courtyard, lungs burning.
The night air hit her like ice.
She skidded to a halt when she saw the gates—open.
Someone stood there.
A man she did not recognize.
He smiled.
“Well,” he said lazily, “you’re quicker than expected.”
Elara’s blood went cold.
“Who the fuck are you?”
He chuckled.
“Just a messenger.”
She backed away slowly.
“Get away from me.”
“Easy,” he said.
“No need for drama.”
She felt it then—the bond screaming, pulling her backward, toward the estate.
“Go to hell,” she spat.
“You picked the wrong night.”
The man laughed.
“Hilarious.
That confidence.”
Then—
A growl split the air.
Low.
Thunderous.
The man froze.
Alessandro stepped into the courtyard shadows, eyes glowing faintly, control hanging by a thread.
“Leave,” he said.
The word was not a command.
It was a sentence.
The messenger swallowed.
“Alpha De Luca… no offense meant.”
“Leave,” Alessandro repeated, voice vibrating with the wolf’s fury.
The man backed away, hands raised.
“Message delivered.”
He vanished into the night.
Elara stared at Alessandro, chest heaving.
“You—”
“Inside,” he snapped.
She bristled.
“Don’t order me—”
He was suddenly in front of her, too close, presence overwhelming.
Not touching.
Never touching.
“You were followed,” he said, voice raw.
“Your movement was leaked.”
Her eyes widened.
“I know.”
That stopped him.
“You know,” he repeated.
“Sofia,” Elara said.
“She did it.”
Something dark flashed across his face.
“She wanted to see how far you’d go,” Elara continued.
“Congratulations.”
The wolf snarled approval.
Alessandro exhaled slowly, visibly forcing control back into place.
“I will handle Sofia.”
“Don’t,” Elara said.
He frowned.
“What?”
“Don’t kill her,” Elara said quietly.
“That’s what they want.”
He studied her—really looked at her—then shook his head once.
“You shouldn’t have been put in this position.”
She laughed bitterly.
“Story of my life.”
The bond eased—just a fraction.
Alessandro turned away, jaw clenched.
“Vittorio wants you.”
“I guessed.”
“He will not have you,” Alessandro said.
“I will burn Regina before I allow it.”
Her breath caught.
“That’s the problem,” she said softly.
“Isn’t it?”
He stiffened.
“You have to choose,” Elara said.
“Secrecy… or blood.”
He didn’t answer.
But the wolf did.