The Eternal City of wolves

Chapter 1

Nicoletta Bellucci

La famiglia and la casa — family and home — had always been the two most important words in her life. For those like her, it could be no other way.

When you are part of a pack, you have no choice. When you are part of a pack, nothing remains but to obey the leader’s orders. You submit to the Alpha.

A lone wolf is doomed. A lone wolf often disappears, while the pack gives you safety and, to some degree, a certainty. In a pack everyone knows their role; the leader is one, and your duty is to obey him.

The leader is the strongest male from Romulus bloodline; every other male follows him without question, and he sees it as his duty to constantly remind his “vassals” of his superiority.

Her family was one of the oldest in Rome. They belonged to the city’s elite. They were patricians. One of her ancestors had been among Romulus’s twelve lictors — founders’ guardians. Since then her line had faithfully served the leader’s descendants. For that loyalty they were granted wealth and privileges ordinary mortals could only dream of.

They were people carrying the wolf gene, inherited from the she-wolf who had nursed Romulus and Remus on the banks of the Tiber. The gene granted them strength, speed, exceptional sight, hearing and smell. They were bold, powerful, and cunning predators. On a subconscious level, ordinary people always felt ambivalence toward wolves — fear and hatred on one hand, respect and awe on the other.

They were fiercely loyal and family-minded. They were pack creatures. Family and territory were the alpha and the omega of their existence.

The gene activated at a set age: at eighteen for boys, at twenty for girls. Until then they were ordinary humans — with the same problems, dreams, desires, secrets and broken hearts as anyone else.

Nicoletta loved her family, but she loved her city even more. The Eternal City was a living thing. Architecture, history, people — everything in Rome breathed centuries.

Here lived open, warm, passionate people, easy to get along with. They loved good food, strong wine, music and dancing until dawn. Life in this city boiled day and night. It was perfect.

Everything about it was beautiful. Everything except the descendants of Remus, who had sworn to avenge Romulus and his followers almost three thousand years ago. Since then they had not missed a single chance to harm her pack.

There was a war between their clans. Relentless, merciless. A war for territory. Around the clock Remus’s descendants tried to seize the seven hills on which the Eternal City stood.

The city was divided into two parts; the borders were marked — by the scent of a pack. That meant any wold-gene carrier from another pack could not go unnoticed. Their instincts would betray them at once.

Since childhood Nicoletta had been taught there were places she must never go. Since childhood she had been warned that if she fell into the hands of the scoundrels from Remus’s clan, she would not return alive or unbroken.

Six months ago her twin brother Nicolas had turned eighteen — and he had changed. He had awakened.

Nicolas became one of the fastest, strongest, most dangerous young males. In his first week he distinguished himself and earned a place in the elite unit that protected the territory belonging to Romulus’s clan.

And she remained an ordinary college student. One among many — unremarkable, gray, unnoticed.

At least Nicoletta thought so, until the Alpha himself paid them a visit.

It was an ordinary evening. The house smelled of incense, the soft footsteps of servants and the polished wood. Evening shadows lay along the walls when the Alpha entered the drawing room.

He moved slowly, but each step seemed to echo in the chest. He was flanked by two lictors — as always, statuesque, silent, their gazes like eagles’. There was no age in his eyes — only a force as undeniable as a mountain.

“Bellucci,” he said as he approached her father, “you have raised a worthy son. Nicholas is the wolf a young patrician should be. Strong, swift, loyal.”

Nicoletta watched him with interest — you didn’t often meet the Alpha in person. She thought of telling Isabella everything afterwards.

Her father inclined his head with restrained pride.

“Thank you, my Alpha. He serves with honor.”

The Alpha turned his gaze to the girl. She felt heat in her face and dropped her eyes. Time seemed to pause in that look.

“Is this your daughter?” he asked, and his voice softened a notch — almost thoughtful.

Nicoletta lifted her eyes and met his stare. Deep as the Tiber in flood. There was not an ounce of human warmth in them — only a wolf, appraising prey or an ally.

“She takes after her mother,” the Alpha said, circling her slowly. “Beautiful. Purebred. Old blood runs in her veins. Clever, by the look of those eyes. That kind of gaze isn’t born by chance.”

He turned to her father.

“When will she awaken?”

“In a year and a half, my Alpha,” her father answered.

The Alpha nodded as if confirming some private thought.

“Then it’s time to prepare her for marriage.”

Nicoletta felt the air in the room thicken and turn heavier. The words sounded casual, almost businesslike—but they made her blood run cold.

“My son Marcus will be the future Alpha,” the Alpha continued. “He’s already marking territory. He needs a worthy mate. I need a she-wolf by his side who can not only bear strong offspring but also keep the pack in order when the time comes.”

He looked straight at her. In that moment she felt she was not standing before a man, but before History itself. Millennia of wolf-law. Thousands of years of orders no one dared refuse.

“Nicoletta will be his,” the Alpha pronounced. “When she awakens.”

Her father said nothing. He knew — this was not a request. It was the Alpha’s will. No refusal was possible.

Blood thundered in her ears. Nicoletta had just been promised in marriage. Without her consent. To a wolf she did not know. To the son of the man who held Rome in his claws.

All she could do was stand upright. Do not show fear. Do not show anger. While protest grew like a seed inside her.

They continued to speak — men, old wolves convinced everything in the world bowed to their will.

Her father stood with his head high. He did not say “yes,” but he did not say “no.” That silence was assent. Quiet, wordless. Treacherous.

And she stood in the center of the room like a beautiful vase put up for auction.

“A purebred she-wolf.”

“Capable of bearing strong offspring.”

Not a girl. Not a person. She was someone’s future mate.

Something clenched in her chest as if claws had sunk into her heart from the inside.

Nicoletta felt her breath grow heavy, her hands tremble. The wolf within stirred — not as the obedient part of her, but as rage. As something living, wild, untamed.

“I am not an object.”

“I am not a prize.”

“I am not someone’s prey.”

Her fingers curled into fists without her noticing. If her mother had been there, she would have placed a hand on Nicoletta’s shoulder and calmed her wordlessly. But her mother was gone. Only her father remained, choosing tradition over his daughter.

Only the Alpha — ancient, iron, unyielding to feelings.

Only his son — her future husband, whose name she had heard for the first time five minutes ago.

“I must go,” Nicoletta whispered, her voice betraying her with a tremor.

Her father nodded but did not look at her.

She left the hall and climbed the staircase slowly. Gold, incense and the shadows of the lictors stayed behind her.

At her door she stopped and placed her hands over her chest. Her heart beat there. Her heart. Fast. Furious. Alive.

“There has to be a choice. There must be. I will not let them put me in a cage.”

Nicoletta sank to the floor and leaned against the door. No tears came. Only a heat under her skin. Only breath full of anger.

“If I am a she-wolf — then I have fangs. And I will learn how to use them.”