TWENTY-ONE

Alessandro

I'VE BEEN CORRESPONDING with one of my investigative IT resources throughout our ride to South Boston this morning. My thoughts have been with la duchessa since before our dinner on Thursday night. I watched her face crumble at the dining room table after learning the new information surrounding her parents' death. I saw it seep into her, infect her like venom from a snake that reawakened her old pain and suffering. Knowing it would most likely stay there for the next few days has left me feeling helpless.

At least she has Ethan. At least her mates are open to my presence and involvement in her life. Open to connecting and working with me to safeguard her well-being. I had hoped this visit with her adoptive famiglia would bring a lightness to her otherwise heavy world. Unfortunately, I fear that has not been the case.

My gaze out the back passenger window is nothing but a tinted blur with the speed at which we're racing on our way to la mia stella . Assad and Heydar are just as eager as I am to get to her. After gathering the information on the three shifters from the boxing match last night, a nagging thought— il intuito , if you will—had me cross-referencing their names with the ones in the files supplied to me by the elders and the Shifter High Council about rogue shifters, orphan shifters, and parental deaths.

Two of them, Clyde DuFraine and Randall Durand, were listed as mixed subspecies shifters, both having a wolf-shifter parent and a coyote-shifter and lynx-shifter parent, respectively. Both lost their parents in a similar way to Wilhelmina around fifteen years ago, one by house fire and one by a car accident where the vehicle caught fire and exploded. The other shifter, Owen Larsen, I have very little information on other than he's an alpha wolf-shifter last associated with the Midwest Pack, which is currently under the leadership of Gerard Hogan, who is also a councilman. All of this has only increased my concern for not only la mia stella but the shifter world as a whole. It has also reaffirmed my belief in our bond, in us being brought together for a greater purpose than being royal mates.

Then came the call this morning. Cazzo . Reclining against the headrest, I swipe a hand down my face, wondering how much more can she take.

As if he heard my internal concerns from the passenger seat, Assad says, "She is strong, Principe . Lei è una combattente. She will survive."

Letting my gaze return to the passing cityscape, I say, "But at what cost Assad? What will be asked of her to survive? What will she lose? How will this all change her?" I'm afraid la mia stella will lose part of herself, that her smile and joyous energy will be the toll she'll be asked to give. l gulp, thinking perhaps the universe or the divine has found her too bright a star and will continue to push her until her light dims. A tightness forms in my chest at the thought, and I wrap my arms around myself, trying to compress the tension and prevent it from spreading. I should have looked harder. I should have done more than hope. More than just keep her picture. Because then she'd been better prepared for the challenges that lay ahead.

Assad turns around in his seat and states, "Sandro, her will to survive comes from her desire to live." I flick my gaze at him, and he continues. "Living, laughing, loving—that is where her strength comes from."

Heydar chuckles from behind the wheel and raises his gaze to my reflection in the rearview mirror. "And we know who's un esperto at living life, si ."

A crooked grin tugs at my lips. "This is true." I dip my chin to the brothers. "G razie amici mio. Your insights are most appreciated." They both grunt in approval.

My phone pings with a notification from my contact. He's working on modifying the video surveillance and thought I would want to see the raw footage before it is altered. Assad is doing the same since both he and Heydar have access to all my correspondence.

Sitting up taller in my seat, I click on the first attached video, and it plays. It's a shot from just inside the entrance, showing la mia stella running with a male around her age into the bailey of the fort. Pausing the video and zooming in, I notice the long scar on one side of his face. Immediately her old hospital records come to mind. "Lorenzo Rossi," I whisper. Even through the grainy security footage, he is striking, the scar doing nothing to detract from his attractiveness; if anything, it makes him more alluring. Pressing play, a brown wolf enters the screen, charging from one side while Wilhelmina and Lorenzo turn and run toward some trees. Two of the shifters I identified last night come into view, chasing after them. The clip ends.

I click on the next video, which shows a wide angle of the tree-covered area. The older wolf-shifter, Owen, is screaming at her, and I see la mia stella yell something to Lorenzo right before the wolf jumps. She quickly glances over her shoulder toward her friend one last time before launching herself into the air. She collides with the wolf, and it takes her down to the ground. The second video ends. " Momma mia ," I rasp in unison with Assad.

Thumb shaking, I click on the next one. This is from a different camera, from an interior wall near the trees. No audio. There is an exchange; her friend is thrown into the wall out of the view of the camera. La mia stella is on the ground, and I watch in horror as the wolf clamps his jaws around her neck. My stomach clenches, and I'm sucking my cheeks in. Her face scrunches up in pain, her mouth wide open with her cries, and although there may be no sound, I hear them all the same. I hear her cries. My hand comes up to cover my mouth, preventing me from crying out with her. Though the image is in black and white, the dark liquid seeping out from under the wolf's jaws isn't hard to identify: her blood streaming out of her neck.

Her friend must have broken free only to be held back by both the alpha and Randall. She yells something to him, and his face... My goodness, there is no denying it. Whatever these two experienced together as children has bonded them for life. His face is twisted in agony and rage. Tears spill from his eyes while he yells something back to her.

After a moment, the wolf jerks, causing more blood to pour out, and she closes her eyes. " è viva, è viva ," I whisper, reminding myself that she is alive, that Ethan assured me not too long ago that she's okay and that she survived this.

When she opens her eyes, they're glowing enough to seem like white orbs of light on the video; and she attacks, kneeing the wolf's belly, then driving her thumb into his eye.

"Fight dirty when needed, la duchessa ." Assad chuckles. The wolf releases her neck. She scoots back, but in no time he's on her again. She protects her neck with her arm, and the wolf clamps down.

"Combatti, la mia stella ." I lowly cheer, watching her land punch after punch on the wolf's face.

"That's it, la duchessa . Never give up." Assad cheers, mimicking her punches himself. The wolf lets loose, and she delivers a few more punches before another wolf, blond, I think Jaxson, leaps in and takes it down and out of view.

The next video is of Xander sitting with her, eyes glowing. Some of her adoptive famiglia is in the background with Ethan. The older shifter is passed out on the ground. Xander calmly works on her neck. "So much blood," I whisper. Her lips are moving. I cannot make out what she says. "She's smiling," I softly murmur in disbelief.

" Si , Sandro," Assad affirms. "She smiles even in death." Her hand reaches out to Xander's face. So much affection, so much love. Some more words are spoken, and he gives her a small smile while whispering something back.

We watched two more videos from various angles, ascertaining three things: (1) her famiglia are humans and now know shifters exist; (2) the poor weather aided in the park being nearly empty, and no one shifted in front of a human (that we know of), so modifying the security videos should be enough; and (3) she fights to live and shines even when faced with death.

We pull up to the address Ethan sent us, coming around the back.