The Lonely Wolf (5 page)

“Hi, Quintilius, I apologize for calling you so late, but I wanted to inform you I’ll be meeting with Raphael tomorrow to ask him a few questions about the kid Ludwig saw at Castel Gandolfo.”

As Raphael’s alpha, Quintilius was his official legal guardian, although the kid and his girlfriend Luisa, both werewolves, lived with Alexander and Ravenna and they had been named guardians too. Interspecies laws were complicated, and, even with the Immortal Council keeping everyone in line thanks to enforcers and liaisons, misunderstandings were a daily occurrence. Peter was following chain of command to the letter.

“Is it necessary for me to be present?” The next day, Quintilius had back to back meetings with the CEO of a Greek shipping company visiting Rome to consolidate a five-year deal. “I know Raphael is in the best hands and the kid trusts you.”

“Well, if you send the archangel an email to explain the situation, I’m sure it will be okay for me to go alone.”

Quintilius lowered his forehead to the wheel and swore under his breath. “No, that’s okay. I think I can find a moment tomorrow to stop by Drako’s.”

“Perfect. Just let me know when you’re free and I’ll meet you there.”

“Okay. Say hi to my princess.”

“Will do. See you soon.”

Wallowing in misery, Quintilius remained before the gate of his house for several minutes before waving at the camera to let him in. Behind him, Iris’s car followed his until the main house, then she turned toward her cottage and he forgot about her.

At the porch, Camelia waited for him, a bouquet of fresh cut freesias on her lap and a smile on her face. Every night, rain or shine, summer or winter, she would push her wheelchair out and greet him back from the office.

He bent to brush her forehead with a kiss. “My sweet, how was your day?”

“Lots of gardening.” She raised the scented flowers toward Quintilius. “How was yours, my alpha?”

“Busy, but productive.” The clean sweetness of the bouquet mixed with Camelia’s perfume pervaded his senses, and he wound his arm around her shoulder and pressed her small frame against his side.

With a small sigh, she accepted the embrace. “I prepared lemon scaloppini and a mimosa cake.”

Camelia suffered from chronic pain and yet she managed
Casolare del Lupo
without any help, taking care of running the estate like a tight ship.

“I would be lost without you, my pretty.” Reaching for her thin wrist, he brought her hand to his lips and pressed a small kiss to its back. Now and again, he wished he had fallen in love with her so long ago, but it had not happened, and the result was staring back at him. “Have I told you lately that you are the most beautiful, the most caring, the most loyal companion a wolf could ever ask for?”

“Only once a day.” She chuckled.

“Well, then it’s not enough. I’ll start calling you from the office to remind you how important you are to me.”

She patted his hand. “I know, my handsome alpha. I know because I’m here.”

Pack laws dictated that if one of the two parts in a marriage contract became incapacitated and unable to produce offspring, the other could repudiate him or her. When an alpha was involved, sending away a mate who wasn’t whole anymore was the norm.

“Never say it like I’m doing you a favor. I told you time and again, I am the one taking advantage of you.” Once in a while, they would embark in such discussions. It couldn’t be helped with their history, but it always pained Quintilius to have to remind her how grateful he was for her presence in his life.

Freeing herself from his embrace, she wheeled her chair to the side to face him. “It would’ve been your prerogative.”

Something in her tone, or maybe his nerves were too frayed already, made him snap, and words they had never spoken came forth. “You can’t walk because of me.”

Camelia’s eyes widened as she brought her hand to her chest. “It’s not true—”

“It’s not entirely true maybe, but it doesn’t change the fact that you being in this chair is related to me.” Quintilius kneeled in front of her, so that their eyes were at the same level. “I should’ve married you. I would’ve taken care of you and none of this would have happened.” He took the hand she had pressed on her heart.

“You forgot I didn’t want to marry you either.”

Her words were soft like a caress, and he brought her hand to his jaw. “I should’ve done something—”

“What? I put myself in this situation.” She caressed his face in slow circles. “My handsome alpha, why are we even talking about it?” She shook her head. “Stirring the past will only make the present unbearable, and I am so happy, here, with you who has given me so much already.”

“You should have had a lover, cubs…”

“I knew what I was doing when I drank that vial.”

Camelia was right, they shouldn’t be reminiscing about what had happened that night so long ago, the pain was still very much alive and it hurt.

One hundred and fifty years earlier, the Wolf Council had decreed Quintilius had forgone his duty as alpha long enough and it was about time he gave the clan an heir. The elders had reunited and after a lengthy consultation, they had matched Quintilius with Camelia Del Rei, a Spanish she-wolf with impeccable lineage, the right astral conjunctions, and a rare healing power.

On the paper, Quintilius and Camelia were the couple of the century. In practice, they had been so unhappy, Camelia decided to take fate in her hands and put herself out of the equation. She was successful in her effort, so much so that the elders declared Quintilius free from the matrimonial contract.

“You know how many times I awake from a dream where you didn’t succeed in poisoning yourself?” Images of Camelia lying on the floor, blood seeping out of her mouth came back to Quintilius so often, he wondered if they would ever go away and leave him in peace. The night of their ceremony, just a few hours before the whole circus would start, he found her outside the wedding gazebo. Unconscious, she was still holding the vial he hid as soon as he realized what she had done.

One shot of undiluted curare. Not enough to kill her, but just enough to cripple her wolf so that she wouldn’t be the perfect specimen for the alpha anymore. It didn’t help his conscience that the night before he had confessed to her he was in love with someone else. She had reciprocated his sentiment by saying she had a lover back in Salamanca who would come to her rescue. But her werewolf never came.

“Don’t think about it. I don’t.” Camelia’s eyes swelled with tears, but she kept her lips curved up in a small smile. “I don’t want to talk about it any longer. It pains you.”

“As it should, my flower.” He grabbed the wheelchair handles and pushed her back inside the house.

“Tell me what has put you in such a mood.”

And Quintilius told her about how he had ended his relationship with the love of his life once and for all, first while dining, then before the fireplace in his studio where they usually spent their evenings conversing about their days.

“Ludwig, what a pleasant surprise.” Holding a recalcitrant toddler in his arms, Alexander Drako opened the door himself.

Ludwig had expected Pietro, the Greek’s loyal majordomo, but thanks to the triplets the household had become rather informal. “I promise I won’t take long, but is there any chance I could talk with Raphael and Luisa?”

“You’re always welcome to stay as long as you like. If you don’t mind little rascals afoot, of course.” Alexander stepped back and to the side to let him inside his villa in Coppedè, one of the most elegant neighborhoods in Rome.

“Who’s this? Serses?” Ludwig couldn’t distinguish the kids. They were all olive-skinned, with dark-brown curly hair.

“Darius.”

The boy giggled as he slapped his father’s face with a slimy hand.

“I’m victimized by those two feet of cuteness on a daily basis.” Alexander grabbed his son’s chubby hands and kissed them.

The kid said, “Dada lovvee.”

“Love you too,
bebè
.” With a radiant smile, Alexander closed the door behind them, then made sign for Ludwig to follow him. “Raphael and Luisa are still at school, working on a science project with some other kids. But they’ll be home soon if you don’t mind waiting for them. Peter and Quintilius are here too to talk to them. I assume it’s for the same case Ravenna is working on.”

At Quintilius’s mention, Ludwig’s heart jumped up to his throat, and he croaked, “I can stay a few minutes—” The truth was he didn’t have a minute to spare, but he had flown over hoping he could see Quin, if only for a moment.

Peter had called him earlier in the day to inform him about his plan to talk to Raphael. Knowing werewolf protocol by heart—Ludwig had been around the Immortal Council when the interspecies laws were sanctioned first—he expected Raphael’s alpha to be present as well.

“Perfect, they’re waiting in my new studio.” While playing airplane with his kid, who laughed every time Alexander threw him in the air, the redeemed playboy accompanied Ludwig to a wing of the house he had never been before. “Because of the kids, we’re doing some remodeling and repurposing a few of the chambers to create a bigger recreation room,” he explained when they passed a few doors barred by plastic sheets.

At the end of a hallway illuminated by big windows opening into the Italian gardens, Alexander entered a sunny English conservatory. “One of the newest additions to the house, Ravenna’s design.”

The room, entirely made of glass, was attached to the house on one side, and faced the swimming pool built like a natural pond with a small waterfall surrounded by Roman ruins.

With his free hand, Alexander pointed at the lagoon. “That too is Ravenna’s creation. Raphael and Luisa love it.”

Ludwig wasn’t listening anymore, his eyes were locked on Quintilius who was staring back at him from the edge of the pool. A few steps ahead on the path leading toward a gazebo, Peter saw Ludwig and waved at him.

“I’m glad you’re here, so we can all talk to the kid at the same time,” the demon said after both he and Quintilius walked back to the conservatory and the usual pleasantries were exchanged. “You know how much I hate filling reports—”

His whole body screaming for him to grab Quintilius and drag him to the closest dark corner, Ludwig tried to relax his jaw as he turned toward Peter and said, “You’ll still have to write a summary of today’s conversation with Raphael, and Quintilius will have to sign the document.”

“As you wish, archangel.”

The cold quality of Quintilius’s words hurt him, but Ludwig didn’t react. Instead, he reached the sitting area, lowered himself into a wicker chair, then silently waited for the others to take a seat.

In the meantime, Drako’s majordomo arrived, pushing a cart laden with beverages and assorted pastries. While Pietro served them, Quintilius, who had elected to sit in front of Ludwig, folded his arms across his chest, muscles flexing beneath the elegant suit. His werewolf only wore custom made clothes that showed how fit and buff he was, and Ludwig had always enjoyed tearing those expensive suits to pieces.

In a society where people lived forever and often maintained a youthful appearance for centuries, Quintilius’s physical exterior was oftentimes mistaken for old age. But Ludwig knew how the misconception was so far away from the truth. His beloved alpha was the epitome of manliness, and he wanted nothing more than taste those lips again and run his hands over Quin’s abs.

While his mind concocted all sorts of things he wanted to do to his lover—
ex-lover
, he bitterly reminded himself—the trio of men chitchatted about family and kids.

When Ravenna entered the conservatory accompanied by Raphael and Luisa holding in their arms Serses and Arianna, Ludwig was about to explode. Still, he had to suffer another round of greetings.

“We’ll leave you in peace now,” Alexander said a few minutes later, then helped by his majordomo, they took the kids and left the room among giggles and raspberries.

Ravenna’s eyes followed her companion until he disappeared behind the door, then smiled at her guests, but addressed Raphael who sat next to her with Luisa glued to his side. “Raphael, the gentlemen and I have a few questions for you.” At the teenager’s worried look, she added, “You are not in trouble. We only want to know if you have ever met a renegade werewolf called Lupo Solis.”

“Why?” Raphael asked, grabbing his girlfriend’s hand tight. “What do you want with him?”

Renegade kids tended to stick together, even when they weren’t renegades anymore.

Ludwig had only a marginal role in saving those two teenagers from a terrible death, but he knew their story and how Raphael had risked his life to free Luisa from slavery and had the utmost respect for those young werewolves. Yet, he still needed to find Lupo to save Quintilius from the public bloodbath that would follow if the truth came out about his clan being involved in the vampire murders.

“He’s involved in an attempted murder I witnessed, and he’s in a gang. We were wondering if you know him from the Reds.” Mirroring Quintilius’s pose, Ludwig folded his arms, then crossed his legs at the ankles.

“Will he end up at Regina Coeli?” Raphael asked.

“I hope it won’t come to that.” Ludwig had no intention to send a kid barely eighteen to the adult correctional facility. Time and again, he had formally complained about the inmates’ precarious conditions. The damp cells of the nunnery-turned-prison for the paranormals were dark, freezing cold in the winter, oppressively hot in the summer, and always filled with mildew. If Lupo was tried as an adult and sent to Regina Coeli, his life would be over.

“Okay.” Raphael nodded at Ludwig, then addressed Ravenna, “Are you looking for him too?”

“Yes, I was asked to help with the investigation. The sooner we find this kid, the better for him.”

“And you promise you’ll help him, alpha?” Raphael asked, without lowering his chin but looking straight at Quintilius instead.

Quintilius’s eyes lit with an amused light. “I’ll try my best to rehabilitate him if he shows sign he wants to leave the gang behind.”

Ludwig was always surprised at how Quintilius let the teenager dance the fine line between disrespectful and cocky.
“You should never try to tame an alpha when he’s so young. And he went through so much already, he deserves nurturing, not punishment,”
Quintilius had said once when Ludwig asked him about his patience with Raphael. Answers like that were one of the main reasons he had fallen in love with his werewolf. After the madness of the first years of their tumultuous relationship had lessened, and he could see beyond the physical attraction, Ludwig had realized Quintilius was so much more than a handsome man.

“I’ll give you my word I’ll do everything I can to steer Lupo toward the right path,” Peter said, speaking in his official role as the only Renegade Controller in Rome.

Tilting his head to the side to move the long bangs away from his eyes, Raphael scooted to the edge of his seat. “There’s a Red member called Lupo, big guy around my age.” He exchanged a glance with Luisa, then added, “I think he’s good, but we barely exchanged words while I was there.”

“And he was still a member when you left, correct?” Ravenna asked.

“Yes, he was.” Raphael paused for a moment, then a grin appeared on his youthful face. “Actually, thanks to a screw-up of his I wasn’t caught when I freed Luisa from the Red compound.”

“What do you mean?” Ludwig asked.

“Lupo used to work security, down in the basement where the monitor room is. The night Luisa fled, Lupo arrived late to relieve Rock who covered for him, and saw me on the monitors. Fortunately for us, Rock didn’t warn Tancredi, and the rest is history, more or less.” Raphael wound his arm over Luisa’s shoulder. “Hope it helps.”

“Immensely. We now know where he is. Let’s have refreshments, while we discuss the best course of action.” Ravenna grabbed a pair of silver tongs and picked up croissants she distributed around.

Ludwig politely refused the pastry, all his attention focused on the werewolf who hadn’t stopped looking at him since they had sat. Already late for his next meeting, he should have left, but he couldn’t. If seeing Quintilius among other people was the only way to see him from now on, Ludwig wouldn’t waste a moment of it.

****

A few days had passed since Lupo had seen the Purist girl, but he couldn’t stop thinking of her. He didn’t know what kind of sorcery she had cast on him, but there was no other logical explanation for his wolf’s restlessness and his heartache. Like any wolf, his appetites ran on the extreme side, especially when it came to sexual attraction. He had liked girls before, and when his wolf hormones kicked in he had chased anything with a skirt. A few times, he went after the wrong girl and he had to deal with angry brothers and displeased fiancés. Fun times.

But this single-minded, fully-encompassing madness was new to him.

“Earth to Lupo. Are you with us?” Rock rapped his knuckles on his desk.

“What were you saying?” Lupo had entered his big brother’s office for his delivery schedule, but his mind had wandered toward the enigmatic girl with the mesmerizing eyes.

“I said that you can actually relax today. Martino is feeling better and he’s up for a few runs.”

Lupo glanced at the list Rock had given to him. “Good—” With increasing excitement, he noted that four out of the six locations on the paper were close to Trieste neighborhood, while the remaining two were around Vatican City. “Why don’t you send Martino to the Vatican, and you add to my docket two more drop-offs in Trieste? So, for once, I’ll get back in time for dinner. I hate to eat alone.”

Rock shrugged. “Sure. I’ll call Martino.” He reached for Lupo’s list and after striking with his pen the two locations in the middle, he scribbled at the end two new addresses.

“Thanks.” Lupo stood and exited the office, and only when in the hallway he studied his new delivery list. Disappointment hit him hard when he saw the girl’s address wasn’t in it.

Even with the lighter schedule, the day proved to be a long one for Lupo. His mood darkened as the hours progressed and he skirted around the girl’s building several times. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have thought his big brother had done it on purpose. More than once, Rock had shown an uncanny ability to anticipate Lupo’s next move.

By dinner time, Lupo was mad at the whole world and decided to eat in his room after all. Passing by the dining hall, he grabbed two plates of
carbonara
pasta, then ran upstairs to the dormitories before someone could stop him.

That night, he barely slept. His thoughts entirely focused on those dark eyes he would have done anything to see again.

The next day, he came up with a plan he immediately put in action. Instead of taking a lunch break as he usually did, he drove to the girl’s place and waited the whole hour on the opposite sidewalk.

She had come out of it once, she would do it again.

****

“The cargo has reached Civitavecchia,” Iris said from the door of Quintilius’s office.

He looked up from the contract he had been studying for the last hour. “Thanks.”

His secretary lingered. “Do you want me to call the chauffer?”

“No need for it. I’ll drive.” Lowering his head, Quintilius resumed his reading.

“I can accompany you—”

“I’d rather have you here to deal with the phone calls. Mr. Zanetti should give us an answer by tonight.” He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. In truth, Quintilius wanted to drive his Jaguar alone. The hour-long ride would do some good for his frayed nerves.

His mind had been in tatters since the day he met Ludwig at Drako’s. Quintilius had gone to such length to avoid having to call the angel, and there he was in all his beauty, looking at him with a possessiveness he had no right to show. His hunger mirrored in Ludwig’s eyes.

Maybe taking a lover would help
, he thought once again.

It had worked in the past. Not for long, but enough to heal the wounds Ludwig always seemed to inflict in his wake. His angel never hurt him on purpose, but the end result was always the same. They would be exclusive for a few months—the longest stretch lasted a whole year—then Ludwig would remember his duty toward his brethren and would leave Quintilius.

Not that Quintilius could afford his clan to know of his unnatural love for a non-wolf. Although the elders hadn’t pressed the matter again, his wolves were disappointed he hadn’t mated yet. No one had ever confronted him about it, but, if nothing else, he owed them to look for a suitable she-wolf. Yet, every time he thought about the whole process, his stomach churned. Camelia would have to leave the house. No alpha she-wolf would accept another woman in her domain. Especially not someone like Camelia who was venerated by the entire household and who had reigned over the
casale
for almost two centuries.

And finally, he couldn’t envision a life without Camelia by his side. The house wouldn’t be the same.

He also couldn’t imagine mating with someone who wasn’t Ludwig. His marriage would be a sham. A necessary one, but a sham nonetheless. His wolf had bound him to Ludovicus that day in the Baths so long ago, and a wolf’s binding was forever.