Mated To The Mafia Werewolves

Sandro gasped for air, struggling to get out of bed. He collided with the wall, wincing as a crack echoed through his ribs.

“I’m dead?” he croaked, his gaze sweeping across the brightly lit room. He was certain his room was usually darker and wondered where he had ended up.

“Maybe it would have been easier if you were. It could have saved us a lot of trouble,” Blaze said casually, lounging on the sofa with a wineglass in hand.

“Where am I?” Sandro rasped, his voice strained.

Ignoring the question, Blaze continued, “If you were dead, your tainted heart would have probably sent you to hell by now. But here you are.”

“Well, Mr. Know-It-All, if I’m not in hell, then where the heck am I?” Sandro retorted, glaring at Blaze.

“You’re in your room, genius,” Blaze shot back, matching Sandro’s glare.

Sandro glanced around the room, conceding that Blaze was right. It was indeed his room, just much brighter than usual. The curtains had been drawn, adding a chill to the air.

Despite his normally high body temperature, a shiver ran down Sandro’s spine. But the cold wasn’t solely responsible; he recalled the events of a few moments ago. It had been a brush with death, and he knew he might not have survived if Blaze hadn’t been there.

Sandro understood that he wouldn’t die immediately. It was only after he transformed and embarked on a forbidden killing spree, as outlined by the curse, that death would claim him.

“You saved me,” he murmured, raking a hand through his hair. “I thought you wanted me gone.”

Blaze studied him for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I don’t. I’m your Beta, after all. The last thing I want is for you to be dead.”

“Can’t trust this day, Beta. Remember the Lycan Pack?” Sandro cautioned.

“I’m not Beta Reese,” Blaze retorted, his glare sharp. “And this isn’t anything like the Lycan pack. If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have given you the shot.”

Sandro winced as a twinge shot through his side. The area where Blaze had injected the syringe still throbbed, but the discomfort was a small price for returning to his normal state.

“I thought we were out of shots. I used the last one a few weeks back and completely forgot about it amidst all the chaos,” Sandro admitted.Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

“You were probably too stressed, but I managed to get one from the clinic yesterday. Found blood compatible with yours,” Blaze explained.

Sandro nodded, sinking into a chair and allowing his gaze to drift towards the ceiling before he closed his eyes.

“What about Thalia?” Sandro asked suddenly.

“In my room,” Blaze replied.

Sandro’s eyes snapped open, and he scowled. “Doing what? You do realize we’re together, right?”

“We’re not ‘together’ like that,” Blaze clarified.

He cringed internally at the assumption Sandro was jumping to about him and Thalia. Blaze could easily clear the air by revealing their familial relationship, but he had reasons to keep it hidden. Sandro was a master at extracting information, and Blaze was convinced there were things best left unsaid.

“Thalia came to me for help, that’s all,” Blaze explained.

“If I catch you with her, I’ll turn your fur into a doormat!” Sandro warned, his tone serious.

“You should be more concerned about explaining to her what she saw when she found you in that state,” Blaze advised a hint of amusement in his voice.

“That’s not important. She doesn’t need to know what’s going on. Her job is to be with me and keep me warm. Nothing else.”

Blaze’s fists clenched, and he winced, cursing silently. What a jerk! He wished he could punch some sense into Sandro and make him realize how disrespectful he was to his sister, but he held himself back.

He could only simmer in anger, hoping that one day Thalia would move on from Sandro, as she had claimed. The door creaked open, breaking Blaze from his thoughts, and he looked at Thalia, who was fully dressed. She pressed a hand to her chest, taking two deep breaths before locking eyes with him.

“I think we’re under attack,” she stated calmly.

Surprisingly, Sandro was the first to react. Blaze had expected him to be weakened from yesterday’s ordeal and the injection, but he appeared revitalized. Sandro hurriedly dashed out of the room, leaving Blaze and Thalia behind.

“Are you sure about that?” Blaze inquired.

Thalia nodded, raising her hand to show a smear of blood. “I took down someone trying to sneak up on me.”

Blaze realized with a start that her hand was dripping with blood. He could tell she had ripped out the intruder’s heart, a tactic she often used in combat.

Stepping closer, he gently gripped her trembling hand. “Are you okay? I shouldn’t have let you come here.”

“I’m fine,” she mumbled. “It’s just my first kill in a while. I need to get used to it again. After all, this is who I am, and I can’t change that.”

Blaze nodded, pulling her into a hug without caring about his shirt getting stained. He stroked her back soothingly, providing comfort in the midst of the chaos.

“You’ll be okay,” Blaze repeated, his voice gentle. “I think it’s best if you stay back until we’re sure it’s safe.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Thalia retorted, nudging him playfully. “And I’m holding my own just fine, so you don’t have to treat me like a kid.”

Blaze let out a sigh but held his tongue. “Just promise not to take unnecessary risks. If we’re facing a tough opponent, I don’t want to see you getting hurt.”

“I’m practically invincible. With one of the most powerful Betas and the Alpha by my side, who would even dare touch me? No one,” Thalia boasted, and in this case, she was speaking the truth.

Blaze and Sandro were unparalleled fighters, ruthless and skilled in their combat tactics. They rarely showed mercy, and even against adversaries twice their strength, they found ways to level the playing field.

“Stay behind me,” Blaze instructed.

Thalia arched an eyebrow but didn’t argue. She knew he was just looking out for her, though it made her feel a bit vulnerable. Nevertheless, she acknowledged that this was her first real battle, and she didn’t want to mess it up.