My Alpha is still on his knees, and he misses it completely. Dante is so close, I can touch him, but he, too, can’t properly see what’s happening. And Matteo is out of my reach.
I move without consciousness.
In an instant, my world narrows and my focus becomes hyper-reactive.
Vitale levels a weapon, drawn directly at Matteo.
But, somehow, I am already ahead of him by a handful of seconds.
In the weird space I’m in, I don’t feel like I’m moving. My actions are intrinsic. I flow effortlessly, thoughtlessly, driven by an insatiable need to protect.
Everything is a blur as I continue to straddle the time warp, but my awareness is sharp like glass. I open the clasp on the thigh holster for my gun. At the same time, my other handshoves at Dante, sending him toppling into Valentine as I turn. I scream at Matteo to drop, but even before I’ve stopped yelling, I’m lining up the shot and squeezing the trigger.
Time snaps back to normal, and I’m behind Dante, the dogs snarling against my legs.
But everything inside me is still fighting and on the defensive. I shove at Dante to get him to budge, but he is unmoving.
I yell into his face. “I have to see them!”
He shakes his head, denying me.
Dante’s mouth moves, and logically, I know he’s speaking, but I can’t hear him over the consuming realization that the reason he’s not letting me look is because I was too slow.
Adrenaline floods my system, and nothing is making sense. I can’t even figure out what Dante is doing or why, when he holds his hand up to show me what he’s going to do before he wraps his hand around the back of my nape. I feel his finger settling over my scent gland before he presses firmly.
Dante switches my panic off by pressing down hard on that spot while he swamps me in his dominance. It’s so unexpected, my eyes shutter to a soft close as my panic screeches to a sharp stop. But a huge part of me trusts him, and it’s that part of me that takes over.
When I open my eyes, the world is less chaotic. He clears the panic in a settling touch, and I can finally register his blinding smile and the trouble glittering in his vibrant blue eyes. He intentionally fans his breath over my face, making his sour cherry Amaretto perfume the only thing I can smell, and if I’m honest, somehow feel. I fall against him, whining softly as his thumb trails over my scent gland.
“You, my darling wife, are fucking incredible,” he says with a laugh, dipping in to brush his lips over mine. “Val and Matty aren’t themselves right now, so let me keep you safe, since it’smy job, while they finish their rage. Baby, I wish I could describe what I just saw.”
Dante and the dogs steer me farther away. When he starts to turn, I understand the reason he added distance.
“Oh my god,” I gasp when I see the scene for myself.
Dante bends down, chuckling in my ear. “You might not be our secret weapon anymore, Layne. But maybe these people need to know what a force to reckon with you are. Half the room is terrified of you, the other half wants to rush over and pledge their support to you.”
What he’s saying is correct—Valentine and Matteo aren’t their usual selves, but I always knew they had this level of violence inside them. And, honestly, they are beautiful in their vengeance.
My shots hit Vitale. I think a part of me was conscious of not intentionally killing him, only stopping him from possibly hurting Matteo. Vitale’s arm, where I got him, looks like a burst sausage, but it’s not the worst of his injuries anymore, and Val and Matteo are not the only people drawn closer by the lure of retribution. Death by a hundred hands is a romantic ideal that the crowd is sold on delivering.
Valentine is callous in the punishment he delivers to his grandfather. He steps back and straightens, shaking his fists, and the blood coating them flings across the floor.
The crowd bays for more.
Similarly, the blade in Matteo’s hand seems as if it has been dipped in a bucket of red. His eyes are on me, clearly concerned I’ll be disgusted or offended by what he’s been doing. I could never be anything but proud of him.
I kiss my wedding ring, and immediately, he understands the message. But that’s not surprising, considering we’ve been able to read each other so easily since the moment we met.
Valentine waves someone over to guard Vitale, then he’s prowling toward me, backing me into Dante’s waiting arms. There’s a low, foreboding snarl from Valentine before he takes my mouth with a cruel kiss full of brutal need. “Ti lego al letto di mia moglie. Il tuo culo è mio.”
Dante translates in my ear, adding that while I’m tied to Valentine's bed and Val is owning my ass, he will be buried deep inside my cunt.
My knees wobble under their wicked promises. It’s lucky they’re both holding me, or I would have fallen into a puddle in front of everyone.
Valentine takes another kiss, but it gets harder when he scents the blossoming of my arousal.
“Go finish,” Dante barks at his brother. “We’ve still got fucking Diego to go, and probably fucking dessert with everyone before I can fuck my wife the way she needs, because of you, Valentine!”
