Chapter 22

Chapter

Twenty-Two

S erenity

I curled my fingers into his bloodied shirt, hanging on as tight as I could, tears blurring my vision. I leaned against his chest, wanting to inhale his scent and listen to his heartbeat forever. The events of the last few days had left me shaken, and each breath was ragged with exhaustion.

“Angelo, please take me home.”

He kissed the top of my head, his lips lingering there for a moment. “I will.” His voice was soft but carried a hint of steel that made me feel safe for the first time in days.

The door burst open with enough force to make me flinch. A man with long hair and a beard rushed in, his wild appearance making Angelo’s arms tighten protectively around me. The newcomer’s shirt was also splattered with blood, and purple bruises bloomed across his visible skin. His eyes darted around the room with desperate intensity.

“Shannon? Where is she? Is she alive?”

“I’ve got her.” I looked over Angelo’s shoulder to where Enzo stood, cradling a small form wrapped in his jacket.

“My god.” The man ran across the room in three long strides, his hands trembling as he took Shannon from Enzo. “What did he do to you?” His strong voice broke on the last word, thick with emotion. He cradled her like she was made of glass, his fierce appearance contrasting sharply with his gentle touch.

Fear pricked at the back of my neck. “Angelo, who is that?” I whispered against his chest. I refused to let Shannon be tortured again.

“Ivan Toser. He’s a wolf.” Angelo’s chin brushed against my hair as he observed the scene. “Shannon’s his mate.”

A burst of anger gripped me, my hands clenching into fists against his chest. “They practically killed her.” My stomach dropped as I realized what Gage’s betrayal meant—he’d sided with Balthazar against Trystan, helped take Shannon. In the mafia world, disloyalty meant death. “Trystan won’t punish them, will he? Shannon’s been through hell.”

“Trystan knows who the real traitor is,” he said, his voice carrying that lethal edge that reminded me exactly who and what he was.

I didn’t want to think about mafia justice anymore. Shannon and I were both safe and all I wanted to do was stay next to Angelo. My muscles felt like lead, and I snuggled closer to him, seeking warmth and comfort. “Take me home. I never want to see this place again.”

The world became a blur of motion, and before I knew it, Angelo was settling me into the plush leather back seat of the limousine. He pulled me onto his lap, one arm wrapped securely around my waist while the other hand smoothed my tangled hair gently.

A thought nagged at me, impossible to ignore despite my exhaustion. I looked up at Angelo, meeting those intense red eyes that seemed to glow in the dim interior of the car. “Can Balthazar...” I swallowed hard, forcing myself to continue. “Can he get inside Crescent Manor?”

Angelo’s expression hardened, but his touch remained gentle. “No. It’s warded.”

The tension in my shoulders eased slightly, but questions still swirled in my mind. Where were Balthazar and Gage? Gage might well be dead, but the real danger to Angelo was Petar, trying to steal his crown—as if Petar could ever walk in Angelo’s shoes.

The smooth movement of the limousine and Angelo’s steadying presence slowly lulled me into a daze. As my eyes grew heavy, I listened to his breath and his heartbeat. They were like music to my ears—a sweet rhythm that promised safety, promised home.

The city lights streaked past the tinted windows like shooting stars, and Angelo’s thumb traced soothing circles on my shoulder. As I relaxed into the comfort of his embrace, I couldn’t forget the look in Ivan’s eyes when he’d seen Shannon—a mix of relief and rage that spoke of a love fierce enough to tear the world apart.

It was the same look I always got from Angelo. I knew he would find me. The surety of that knowledge was like a warm blanket around my shoulders—Angelo would always come for me, no matter what.

Enzo and Dimitri sat on either side of Angelo and me, making me feel like I had a wall of protection inside the limousine. All three vampires were on the alert, eyes scanning the darkness outside. Blood stained their clothes and skin, testament to the violence they’d unleashed to get to me. I didn’t recognize the driver, but I assumed he was one of Angelo’s men. He had blood dripping down his chin as well, the metallic scent of it filling the air.

I couldn’t imagine the carnage back there. They must have killed dozens of wolves to get to me. No one had ever fought for me like that before. For the first time in my life, I truly belonged somewhere. Tears pricked my eyes at the realization, and I quickly blinked them away.

They must have killed countless wolves to get to me. No one had ever killed for me before. Steve had fought for me when we were kids, but this was different. Guilt and gratitude warred in my chest, making my heart feel too big for my ribs. My heart ached for the wolves who’d been forced to follow Gage and Balthazar, enslaved by circumstances like I had been. As for their willing followers—ice crystallized in my veins and I couldn’t find any mercy in my heart.

I was humbled that Angelo and his men had carved such a bloody path to reach me. I wasn’t just another disposable piece in someone’s game - I was as important as Gianna or Elena.

I glanced closer at Dimitri. He had faded bruises on his face, as if he had recently received a severe beating. Dimitri caught me looking at him. His lips curved into that trademark smirk, but his eyes held a shadow of something darker—pride mixed with defiance, maybe even a hint of shame. “See something you like, princess? Trust me, you should see the other guy.” His tone was light, playful even, but there was an edge underneath that suggested he knew exactly what I was thinking.

Angelo tensed beneath me and flashed his fangs at Dimitri.

“Your problem is you just don’t know when to quit, Dragan,” Enzo muttered.

That made me think Angelo had done this. Why? What had Dimitri done to deserve it?

But I didn’t want an interrogation right now, I just wanted to get home. I was so excited to see Elena and Gianna again. They’d become like family to me.

Crescent Manor was warded, but the limousine was not: out here, we were vulnerable. Every shadow that passed over the windows made my heart jump, terrified that Balthazar and his men were following us. I shrank closer to Angelo, drawing comfort from his solid presence while silently urging the limousine to go faster.

The driver finally pulled into the driveway and got out to open the door. Enzo exited first, scanning the limousine and the surrounding area for threats.

Dimitri got out next, then after a brief minute he ducked his head into the car. “It’s safe.”

Angelo stepped out, still holding me in his arms like I was something precious. Dimitri held the back door open—watchful, eager to prove his renewed loyalty with every small service.

Elena and Gianna were waiting for us in the foyer, as if maintaining a vigil. Just the sight of them brought tears to my eyes and a lump formed in my throat. Gianna was like the sister I’d never had, who’d welcomed me into this dark world without judgment. Meanwhile Elena was the grandmother I’d always dreamed of—all warm hugs and kitchen wisdom, healing my wounds with comfort food and soft words.

“ Ma pauvre chérie .” Elena’s cool hands clasped my tear-stained cheeks. Something inside me melted at her touch, like always when she mothered me. After what seemed like weeks of cruel hands and crueler hearts, her gentle touch was like a balm to my battered soul.

Gianna embraced Dimitri fiercely as he crossed the threshold, not caring that her designer dress was getting covered in bloodstains from his shirt.

“I’ve got to get Serenity upstairs.” Angelo’s voice was quiet and authoritative as his gaze found Enzo. “Find out where Gage, Petar, Balthazar and the others disappeared to. Make sure to bring Petar to me alive.”

I buried my face in Angelo’s shirt, shuddering to think what would happen to Petar even though he’d stolen me from my home and tossed me to a psychotic wolf and a cruel demon. I would never forget the feel of their hands on me, their cruel laughter. Some nightmares didn’t fade with waking.

Once again, the world turned to a blur and the next thing I knew we were in our room. Angelo set me down gently and closed the door with a soft click. The familiar sight of our sanctuary—the bed with its silk sheets, the leather-bound books on the shelves, the tapestries and paintings that spoke of his centuries-old existence—broke something inside me. I burst into tears.

“Shh.” He pulled me into his embrace and just held me, his arms a cocoon around my shaking body. His voice was rough with emotion, something rare for him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you, Serenity.”

I pulled away and wiped my tears, needing to see his face. “All I could think about was you. I kept calling out to you.” My voice caught, remembering how desperately I’d screamed for him in my mind, praying he would somehow hear me.

“I know. I heard.” His red eyes held mine, intense and serious.

It felt like the floor had dropped out beneath me. “What?”

“Every time you called for me, I felt it here.” He touched his temple. “At first, it was just whispers, like fragments of a dream. But then they got louder, and with them came headaches. Images, too—flashes of where you were and what you were seeing.” His fingers traced my cheek, and I could feel the slight tremor in them. “The plantation. Balthazar. That horrible room they kept you in.”

I caught his hand, holding it against my face. “But how? Was I really calling out to you or was I just...” I swallowed hard, remembering those terrible moments of desperation. “Praying, hoping somehow you’d find me?”

He slipped his fingers through my hair, drawing me closer until our foreheads touched. “All I know is you’ve marked my soul, Serenity. I never stopped looking for you. No one can keep you from me. I’ll always find you.”

I pulled away reluctantly. “I want to take a shower. I need to wash off everything from that place—the bayou, the wolves, and especially Balthazar and his friends.” My skin crawled at the memory of the demon’s presence, of the wolf’s rough hands. I needed to scrub away every trace of their touch, every moment in that plantation.

“Go ahead. Take as long as you need.”

“No.” I held out my hand, surprised at how much it still trembled. “I want you to join me. If you have time, I mean...” The words came out small and uncertain. Even after everything—the bond we shared, him coming for me and hearing my calls—part of me still feared he’d pull away and retreat into his role as the vampire king with more pressing matters to attend to than taking a shower with me.

Angelo’s eyes softened with that rare gentleness that only I saw. He took my outstretched hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “The only thing that matters right now is you.” He drew me closer and I could feel the tension in his body, the careful way he held himself. “Let me take care of you, cara mia .”

My breath hitched at the Italian endearment. Even now, still shaken and afraid, something warm bloomed in my chest at his tenderness. This was the Angelo that only I got a glimpse of—not a ruthless king, not a feared, ancient vampire, but the man who could bring me back from the edge with no more than a gentle touch, a loving word.