Teeth and Temptation

The first man died with my knife in his throat. The second died slower. Snow crunched beneath my boots as I stepped over the body sprawled beside the black SUV. Blood spread across the white ground in steaming ribbons, thick and dark beneath the glow of the estate’s security lights. The wind carried gunpowder and pine. And somewhere behind me, someone screamed. “Run!” Luca shouted. Too late. A bullet shattered the passenger window beside my head. Glass exploded into my hair. I dropped behind the SUV, breathing hard, fingers tightening around the knife slick with blood. My pulse thundered violently, but not from fear. The wolf inside me was awake now. Hungry. “You set us up,” I snarled into my comm. Static answered. Then silence. Of course. Luca Romano had always been many things - heir to one of the most brutal mafia dynasties in New York, billionaire businessman, beautiful liar. Tonight he’d apparently added traitor to the list. Another shot rang out. Metal screamed beside my ear. I moved before the next bullet landed, vaulting across the hood of the SUV and slamming into one of the gunmen hard enough to crack bone. He hit the snow with a gasp. I smelled his terror instantly. Human. Weak. My canines sharpened. No. Not here. Not now. I grabbed the gun from his frozen hands and fired twice into the darkness. One body dropped near the gates. The others scattered. Professional. Trained. Which meant this wasn’t random. This was organized. Planned. My stomach twisted. Luca. God, if he betrayed me… A hand wrapped around my throat from behind. I reacted on instinct. Elbow. Twist. Snap. The man collapsed with a wet choking sound as his neck bent wrong beneath my grip. I stood there breathing hard while snow drifted around us like ash. Then I heard footsteps approaching slowly behind me. Steady. Unhurried. Familiar. Every muscle in my body locked. No. Impossible. I turned. And there he was. Roman De Luca. Alive. Five years ago, I watched him die. Or at least that’s what the entire city believed after the m******e at Blackwater Harbor. After the bloodbath that destroyed half the De Luca empire and sent me running from New York with my heart ripped open. But Roman stood beneath the falling snow in a charcoal coat dusted white at the shoulders, looking devastatingly untouched by death. His dark eyes met mine. Still cruel. Still beautiful. Still capable of ruining me. For one unbearable second neither of us moved. Then his gaze dropped to the blood covering my hands. “You always did make a mess, Bianca.” His voice hit me harder than the bullets. Deep. Smooth. Dangerous. Memory flashed violently through me: Roman pinning me against silk sheets. Roman’s mouth against my throat. Roman covered in blood the night he disappeared. I buried all of it. Or tried to. I lifted the gun toward his chest. “You should be dead.” One corner of his mouth curved. “I get that a lot.” The wolf inside me paced violently beneath my skin. Not because he frightened me. Because it remembered him. My body remembered him too. That was the worst part. Five years ago Roman De Luca destroyed my life with one betrayal. And somehow he still looked at me like I belonged to him. The sound of tires screeching cut through the night. Three black Escalades burst through the gates. More men. Armed. Roman didn’t even glance back. “They’re not here for me,” he said quietly. Cold realization slid through me. “They’re here for me.” Roman’s eyes darkened. “Yes.” The first SUV door opened. A man stepped out wearing silver wolf insignia on his coat. Pack hunters. My blood ran cold. No one had seen my wolf form in years. No one alive should have known what I was. Which meant only one thing. Someone sold me out. Again. The hunter raised his rifle. “Bianca Moretti,” he called. “By order of the Crescent Council, you are condemned for treason against your bloodline.” Roman moved in front of me instantly. The gesture shocked me almost as much as the next words out of his mouth. “She’s under my protection.” The hunter laughed. “You’ll start a war over a female?” Roman’s expression turned glacial. “No,” he said softly. “I’ll end one.” Gunfire exploded. Roman grabbed my wrist and dragged me backward as bullets tore through the snow where we’d been standing seconds earlier. We ran toward the forest. Branches whipped my face. The wolf inside me surged harder with every step, desperate to break free beneath the moonlight flooding through the trees. Roman shoved me behind a fallen log as more shots cracked through the woods. His body pressed against mine. Warm. Solid. Alive. I hated how my heart reacted to him. “You lied to me,” I hissed. “Yes.” “You let me think you were dead.” “Yes.” “You ruined my life.” Something flickered across his face then. Regret maybe. Or guilt. But it vanished too quickly to trust. “I also just saved it.” I opened my mouth to argue. Then a howl split through the forest. Every hunter froze. So did I. That wasn’t human. Roman looked toward the darkness beyond the trees. For the first time all night, he looked genuinely concerned. “Bianca,” he said carefully. “What?” Another howl answered. Closer this time. My wolf recoiled violently. Fear. Actual fear. I stared at him. “What is that?” Roman’s jaw tightened. “The thing hunting us.” The forest behind us erupted. And something massive stepped out of the dark. Not wolf. Not human. Something worse. Its eyes glowed crimson beneath the moonlight. Its mouth stretched into rows of jagged teeth. And when it smiled at me- I realized it knew exactly who I was. The creature lunged. And Roman shoved me out of the way just as its claws tore through his chest.