He lifted his head, squaring his shoulders. For a moment, he just looked at her. Beautiful, even now, with pain etched over her features and rage in her gaze. The gentle slope of her neck, the way she crouched, ready to spring, and her lush curves on display. This wasn’t how he wanted to remember her, but he memorized it anyway.
Before hate filled her.
Before the dream of what could have been turned into a nightmare.
Life was a bitch—one that had ruined them long before they laid eyes on each other.
And in the last couple of days, they’d already gone through a tremulous level of back and forth.
No, mating was never in their cards.
“Bianchi wolves.”
She froze. “There are no Bianchi wolves anymore.”
“Our pack once boasted just over a hundred packmates. With the failed coup, we lost a third of that number, and then half more when some did not choose to join the Lombardis.”
Giuliana stood slowly, stretching to her full height, her canines bursting in her mouth. This was the Enforcer of the Lombardi Pack, not the woman he’d given pleasure to, not the partner he’d hunted with.
“I want to make things very clear right now. Are you saying your former packmates who didn’t stay with us attacked one of ours? Are you saying the text message Lorenzo received may have been a plant?”
That connection was a good one to make, and one made with lightning speed. “Primo taught subterfuge with an iron fist. Ottavio just gave him the opportunity he needed to use it against Arturo.”
And there it was.
The reminder.
History.
Ottavio, cousin to Arturo, had been part of his pack and planned to kill him with Primo’s help. They’d failed, but the rippling effect of the move still rocked the foundations. An intricate span of players—Ottavio of the Moretti Pack; Primo and Luigi, Alpha and Capo of the Bianchi; and Benedict of the Mage Council—had destroyed so many lives. Their deaths didn’t make up for what they’d made others lose.
“Fucking dogs.”
Her words cut. They were his people, even if he could see what this meant. The difference between them was, he could step back and wonder why. Giuliana just saw betrayal, and fuck if he couldn’t understand.
“They are leaderless. We don’t know what Heath may have done.”
“Dominic will want blood. I want blood.”
Pasquale nodded. “I understand.”
What else was he supposed to say? What could he do? At this moment, with Alpha power or not, he was a lower-ranking wolf in the structure and his Enforcer had just spoken.
Giuliana hesitated. Reaching out to him, she let her hand fall back to her side. “He’s my Alpha, Pasquale.”
I should be.
A toss-away thought, but once realized, he couldn’t help the rage boiling inside him. He should be her Alpha. He should be the one she gave allegiance to.
He should be the only man whose needs she’d fight to meet.
But it wasn’t like that and thinking like a Neanderthal wouldn’t help the situation. The fact remained that some of his people had attacked one of hers. There would be no leaping across that fucking divide. Dominic had a right to want those responsible to pay. And Pasquale couldn’t shake the feeling the perpetrators had purposefully hidden the trail to throw him off.
That sense of betrayal ran deep.
They knew he’d be the one to follow, as there was no one better than him, and they’d done it anyway.
We’re animals, Pasquale.
