“We’ll get out of here soon. I promise.” Mira murmured over and over again as she treated Francesca’s wounds. They were back in the bedroom, ordered by their Alpha to step out after the whole ordeal at the dining room. Francesca’s breath hitched as she remembered what had happened. Stefano did not even look remorseful at what he did. He meant to kill, and it did not make a difference if it were Francesca or Carmel who had taken the hit.
Carmel. Poor little Carmel. She was so young and full of hope. She did not deserve to be lying cold and dead on the floor like that.
“Are you breaking down again?” Gianna said, removing herself from against the wall and grabbing Francesca by the shoulders, “You have to be strong. Do you know how Mira and I survived being married to that bastard for so long? We rein in our emotions. The biggest mistake you can make in front of Stefano is to show him your tears.”
Strong. Why does everyone want Francesca to be strong? She wished they would just let her be weak. She couldn’t fake strength even if she wanted to. Francesca tried and look where it got her. They lost Carmel because of it.
“We’re going to get out of here. The moon goddess will not condone such behavior from any of her wolves. Stefano will be punished.” Mira remarked. Her words sounded like a prayer.
“We can’t. Carmel’s gone. Even if we got out, there’s no point to it now.” Francesca replied, rocking herself back and forth as she stared at the wall in front of her, unseeing.
Mira and Gianna looked at each other in concern for their friend.
“What did I tell you? Hope is fragile, especially when it doesn’t come from within. I know you loved Carmel, but it’s time to do things for yourself, Francesca. Don’t let your resolve die with Carmel. She wouldn’t want that for you.” Gianna said, her words true but unforgiving. Francesca wanted desperately to believe her, but she could barely think from the grief.
“We should give her space,” Mira observed as Francesca continued to ignore them, gripping the purple sheets of her bed with shaking fingers. Sighing, Gianna kissed Francesca’s forehead goodbye, and she closed the door silently on their way out.
The clock on the hand-painted walls continued to tick as Francesca remained on her spot, all alone, rocking back and forth like a little child who had just seen a monster in the middle of the night. Only her own husband was the monster, and she was forced to lie every night with that monster. Francesca moaned, and so did her wolf, animal and human sharing the same wounds. Carmel’s lifeless form kept flashing before her eyes whenever she so much as blinked. And amid her anguish, a thought formed within Francesca’s broken mind. Death. Maybe that was it—the only way to get out of this hellhole. Yes. There was absolutely no doubt that Carmel was as free as the day she was born now that Stefano couldn’t reach her.
Francesca laughed, the sound forced and hysterical. Gianna said that she should be strong, to do things for herself from now on. Well, Francesca will take her own life. That will be her gift to herself and her wolf, who had suffered so much all these years.
***
“Francesca.” Stefano’s voice made Francesca jump a mile like it always did. He stood by the kitchen door, regarding her with soft eyes.
Francesca immediately knew what this was about. Every time Stefano mistreated any of them, he would come in afterward, looking apologetic and concerned for their well-being. The first few times it happened, Francesca completely fell for it; all of them did. But she had lived with him long enough to know that this was part of the act.
Besides, everything was different this time. Carmel was gone. There was no way in hell Francesca could ever forgive him for that.
“Yes?” Francesca whispered, swallowing the sudden fear in her heart. She surreptitiously hid the knife behind her back, the one she intended to use to end her life.
“I want to say I’m sorry. I never wanted for any of that to happen. You believe me, don't you?” Stefano’s voice was so soft. If she didn’t know any better, Francesca would think he was broken, too. “Francesca? Look at me.”
Stefano stepped towards her, near enough to raise her chin and meet his dark eyes. Francesca shuddered as his cold lips touched hers.
“We would hold the most beautiful funeral for her. Carmel would have all the flowers she could ever want in a lifetime.” Stefano murmured.
Francesca felt the urge to scream and call him out on the hypocrisy of his words. Her hand, the one that grasped the knife, twitched in response to her sudden anger, and Stefano zeroed in on it.
Francesca held her breath as Stefano frowned, “You’re not going to attack me again, are you? I thought we were past this, Francesca. You could never overpower me. I think we both tested that enough times for you to figure it out.”
Francesca did not respond. Stefano did not need to know what she was planning to do. She’ll be out of his grasp soon enough. But the lines on her husband’s brow cleared, and the realization took place. Just then, a boisterous laugh erupted from the bastard. The sound was eerie and cavernous, and Francesca could swear something else was laughing along with him. Something far more sinister than the Alpha himself.
“Oh, Francesca. You’re not planning on taking your own life, are you? That would be such a waste, Francesca. I’m sure you know that the Lunar Banquet we're hosting is tomorrow. I thought it would finally show you off as my wife this year, you know. You were always too sick to attend the past two years.” Stefano murmured soothingly despite the venom in his tone. He held out his hand in front of him. “Francesca, be a good girl and hand over the knife, okay?”
Francesca just stared up at Stefano, gripping the weapon tighter within her fingers. He is not getting anything from her.
Fed up with her silence, Stefano roughly took the knife from her, injuring himself in the process. The Alpha didn’t even blink at the pain, if he ever felt anything at all.
The cut then healed as quickly as it had formed, and Stefano used the same hand to grab Francesca by the hair. “Come with me.”
He dragged her down the stairs by the kitchen sink, and towards the unused basement. He then pushed her on the filthy floor, and Francesca coughed as the dust of the room invaded her nostrils.
“Don’t you think about pulling something like that again, Francesca. I will not lose you too. You’ll be staying here until the banquet, do you hear me?” Stefano crouched down in front of her, taunting, “Not even death can save you, girl. That's for sure. You’re mine. Body and soul. I suggest you start learning to accept that.”
And with those words, Francesca's husband left her inside. She looked around, the room was empty except for the dust collected in the corners. No weapons for Francesca to use on herself. Pretty smart for her husband. But not smart enough.
Francesca released her claws and pointed them at her neck, chuckling, "I guess we're back to you, wolf."
The wolf inside her protested, its auburn fur raised in alarm. It didn't want to kill her, that was why Francesca looked for the knife in the first place. But now it had no choice. They needed to go. It was the only way for their soul to survive.
The party was in full swing. In every room of the house, people swarmed, heightening Francesca’s anxiety with the noises they were making. The wolf inside her was also uneasy, and still a bit angry at Francesca for what she attempted to do the night before.We're still going to do it, you know. But with a bigger purpose in mind this time. We'll be stuck together on the next plane, are you really going to be mad at me for a long time? Francesca told her wolf, but she received no acknowledgment.“Stay calm and smile. You know what he’ll do to you if you were anything less than happy in public.” Gianna whispered beside Francesca, “You look beautiful. Try to enjoy the night, okay?”Francesca nodded, hands grasping the front of her dress to keep the piece of paper hidden inside it intact. She planned to enjoy the night, sure. Though not in the way that Gianna hoped. She thought about it last night, and sh
Strong arms pulled Francesca back away from certain death and she heard the song again, this time emanating so strongly from the one who held her. Her back was flushed into his front, so tight Francesca could feel the sinews of his muscles and the harsh pounding of his heart against her."Did you really think I would just let you do this? I don't even know your name." His voice sounded behind her, rich and deep. It brought a chill to her spine. Francesca closed her eyes, feeling all tension drain from her body. She tilted her head up towards his and he held her waist tighter, bringing his forehead down between the crook of her neck and shoulder. Francesca felt something wet touch her skin and she realized that he was crying, too."What's your name?" Her mate whispered softly and she felt that slight movement of his mouth against her skin.Her wolf sighed in pleasure, and she murmured, "Francesca.""Francesca." He repeated so revere
Francesca seated herself beside Stefano, unable to look at where Tristan was seated at the other end of the table. She couldn't bring herself to know what his expression might be. Francesca particularly skirted mentioning her relationship with Stefano when they earlier. She did not want to see the disappointment on Tristan's face.Stefano grasped Francesca's waist, lips touching her ear as he hissed into it, "I'll have to punish you later for disappearing on me, you know that right?""I'm sorry," she muttered, offering no explanation.Her husband frowned at her, but then his expression smoothened as he regarded his fellow Alphas. "Everyone, I would like to introduce you to my wife, Francesca Lopez." He then turned towards Francesca with a smile that he never showed to her in private, "Darling, I assume you already know everyone at this table? Well, except for Manhattan's new Alpha, Tristan Williams."Catching on to her husband's act, Fra
Francesca usually did not like to socialize, but after meeting Tristan earlier, she needed to immediately wash off his scent from her skin. It was exhausting, trying to keep up with superficial conversations that drop as soon as you utter the first word. She didn't know how Betas, the Packs' advisers, go about doing it every day. Still, Francesca trudged on, also hoping that the activity would help her forget Tristan's plan in the meantime. She'll worry about it when it's time to. "So, how long have you been married to Alpha Stefano?" one of the guests in front of her asked. From her accent, Francesca could guess she was from the Brooklyn pack. She forgot the girl's name seconds ago though. "Three years." "How is it?" Francesca hesitated. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the ignorance. As if summoned by the topic of the conversation, Francesca sensed Stefano creep behind her, whispering in her ear, "Are
Francesca did not answer. Gianna was a friend and she could trust her. But she decided to not tell her friends about Tristan."So, that's it. You're not going to answer me?" Gia looked angry and hurt. "You know what. It's fine, Cheska. We may have been through hell together, but at the end of the day, we save our own hide, right?""That's not--""It is. From your silence, I know that's exactly what's happening right now." "So what did he tell you? I bet he made the exact same promises that Stefano did the first time.""No, Gia, listen to me--""I'm letting you do whatever you want. But Mira knows about this too.""Mira?"Francesca began to worry even more. Amongst them, Mira was the one who badly wanted to get out. She often ended up confined in bed for days, having Epsilon healers fuss over her from wounds that she sustained trying to escape Stefano countless times."That's right, Cheska. Yo
She's beautiful, and not in the drop-dead gorgeous kind of way, which Tristan had always found to be unsettling. She's beautiful in the quietest way, if that made any sense. Like how the full moon just sits there in the sky, every night, calm and serene, yet you can't help but notice it. Even her name was beautiful. Francesca. Tristan shook his head. That was so...cheesy. When did he start thinking like this? Apparently, she made him all gooey too, aside from being absolutely angry. "Fuck." Tristan muttered to himself, remembering how furious he was when he learned that Francesca was Stefano's wife. His father used to say that an Alpha generally lives his life not knowing when he will find his mate, but when he does, it would be the most glorious thing to happen in his life. Francesca did not only bring Tristan that joy. She also brought him devastation. But their connection was a promise that could never be broken, and Tristan was hell-bent on wi
A strained silence covered their table. Kaya smirked while Langdon gaped at Tristan and Stefano. Lionel, on the other hand, let out a low whistle as he tried to contain his excitement, "Damn, man." "True. This is definitely getting interesting. Unfortunately, I have to go to a meeting." Kaya replied, standing up and giving Langdon a pat on the shoulder, "Make sure to tell me what happens, okay?" Kaya resigned herself from the table and out the room, Tristan and Stefano barely glancing in her direction. They were still glaring at each other, neither of them wanting to back down. "Show me your cards, Stefano. What's taking so long?" Tristan challenged, tapping his own cards, which he had placed face-down on the table. Stefano growled at Tristan, "This whole time, you were trying to take her from me." "Technically speaking, you had no right to claim her in the first place," Tristan commented calmly, but his eyes were not
"It needed to be done," Francesca said as she stared in the mirror. She was still in her wedding dress, even an hour after her Christian wedding with Stefano because her husband had asked her to. Though raised a Christian herself, Francesca could not help but feel relieved that it was the only tie she had with the Alpha. They were not mates so they could not be married at the altar of the moon goddess. And for a werewolf, that was what mattered the most. She could get out of the arrangement easier. "It didn't have to be you, Cheska." Julio Lopez frowned behind her. Julio was her Dad's friend and became her guardian since his death. He was a balding man in his fifties, with permanent worry lines on his forehead, brought about by being in charge of a ward as reckless and as brave as Francesca, he always said. "You know none of the others wanted to do it, Uncle. I had no choice." Francesca told Julio, "It's the only chance we have of fr