Page 137 of Untamed

Dante hesitates. “One of the Ferrara runners was just found outside the west gates. Barely alive.” A pause. “They carved a warning into his chest. Something about sending a message toyou.”

I see it, the shift. The quiet, terrifying stillness that comes before violence. His shoulder squares despite the pain. His voice is gruff.

“Get the car.”

He turns back to me just long enough to brush his fingers down my arm, brief, almost reverent.

“Go home, bambina.”

“Ares—” He’s already moving, already slipping back into the version of himself that terrifies the world.

And I’m left standing in the silence that follows, heart pounding, breath caught, wondering what fresh war just crossed his threshold. And worst of all, what kind of danger is he blindly walking into?

I should leave... he told me to go home.

But my legs don’t listen, and my heart… my heart hasn’t stopped beating too fast since the second he walked out the door.

The stillness in his house stretches long and heavy. But it’s not cold. Not like I expected.

It feels like him.

Wound tight. Controlled. But full of shadows that never quite reach the surface.

I drift down the hall instead of toward the exit. I tell myself it’s just for a minute. Just to find Ladro.

And sure enough, I find the little furball curled on a plush grey blanket at the end of the hall. Ladro blinks up at me, blinks once, then mews like he’s been waiting for me all day.

“Hi, trouble,” I whisper, scooping him up.

He purrs instantly, loud and unbothered, and as I carry him back toward Ares’s room, I catch something that makes me pause.

On the floor, near the corner of the dresser, sits a sleek black bag filled with brand-new pet supplies, tiny food bowls, treats, cans of gourmet cat food, scratching pads, a fuzzy tunnel, a ridiculous leopard-print bed still half in its packaging. There’s even a tiny collar, tags still attached.

I can’t help it, I smile.

For all his growling and snarling, Ares Russo went out and bought a kitten starter kit like a secret softie. I can picture him scowling the whole time. Telling the clerk he didn’t need help. Pretending he didn’t care.

But really, he does.

And somehow, that undoes me more than the violence in him ever could. Because, how cute is this?

Ares Russo, the man who carves threats into silence and wears blood like a second skin, bought a toy mouse with a feather tail.

ForLadro.

Forme.

My heart does something I don’t expect, it stutters, then squeezes, aching in that sweet, dangerous way it only does for him.

I take off my shoes and sit on the edge of his bed, trying to convince myself that it’s just for a couple of minutes, that I’m staying for Ladro and not for him.

“Shall we see what kind of treasures your gorgeous, broody owner picked out for you, little one?” I murmur, cradling Ladro against my chest.

He opens his mouth with the fierce determination of a lion… and lets out the tiniest meow I’ve ever heard. I huff out a quiet laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

His fluffy tail flicks as if he’s already unimpressed, but I swear there’s a sparkle of excitement in his wide blue eyes, like heknows this place is his kingdom now, and we’re just his humble servants.

I spend almost an hour playing with him, and we’re in the middle of a very exciting game of chase the feather wand when he grows tired and stretches in my lap, paws kneading into the fabric of my leggings, making biscuits. I run my fingers through his soft, grey fur, gently scratching behind his ears. He purrs louder, content, completely at home.

---