Page 66 of The Mafia Bloodline
Then there was silence.
The demon’s ashes scattered at my feet, taking the last traces of Caesar’s voice with them.
My hands shook. The rage was too vast to contain as it pressed against my ribs, threatened to swallow me whole. My fangs had fully descended now, the beast in me clawing at the edges, demanding I tear something apart.
“Volken!”
Roman’s voice broke through the haze, sharp and commanding. I turned to see him, Lucien, and Viking stalking through the hall with their weapons drawn, their faces set in grim determination.
Roman’s gaze flicked over the carnage, the black streaks along the walls, the half-burnt corpses of demons littering the floor. “You left some for us?”
“Barely,” I snarled, my voice still raw. “Caesar was here in spirit or magic, I don’t care. He’s taunting us. He knows about Runa. About my child.”
Viking swore under his breath, eyes flashing. “Then he’s already too close.”
Lucien stepped forward, calm but coiled tight. “We need to get closer. We have to find where he’s hiding, and then we finish it.”
Roman looked at me, his golden gaze steady. “You see to your mate first. Then we hunt.”
My jaw clenched. The beast in me wanted blood, it demanded retribution, but the bond tugged at me again, softer this time, pulling me back toward her. My pulse slowed just enough to let me breathe.
“Fine,” I said, my voice low and dangerous. “But when I’m done making sure she’s safe, Caesar’s mine.”
Viking smirked faintly. “We’ll leave you a piece.”
Lucien’s tone was flat. “You’re not taking him alone.”
Roman’s eyes gleamed like molten gold in the flickering light. “We all finish what he started. Together.”
And as the sun finally bled away from the horizon and the darkness crept back to reclaim its throne, I felt something inside me settle, a promise written in rage and blood.
Caesar wanted war? He’d just declared one, and this time, I wasn’t coming as a strategist or a brother.
I was coming as a mate.A father. And the fury of a Dragic unleashed.
Chapter 22
The door burst open.
For a heartbeat, I thought the world had finally broken. The noise, the chaos, the smell of burned demon ash, all of it had blurred into something unreal. But then I saw him.
Volken.
His silhouette filled the doorway, tall and furious, his eyes glowing a dark molten silver that told me he was seconds from tearing the whole hospital apart. His chest was bare beneath his black coat, his skin marked with smears of demon blood that smoked faintly in the fluorescent light.
And for the first time since the window shattered, my lungs finally worked.
“Volken,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
He crossed the room in three strides, and I was in his arms before I could blink. His scent was iron, earth, the faint sweetness of the bond that wrapped around me, grounding me in a way nothing else could. His hands roamed over me, rough and desperate, checking every inch.
“Are you hurt?” His voice was a growl against my hair, rough and ragged. “Did they touch you?”
I shook my head, gripping his coat. “I’m fine. I’m okay. Please…”
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes scanning every part of me again like he didn’t believe it. His jaw clenched,his breath shaking out of him as he turned, taking in the destroyed room.
The shattered glass on the floor, the blood streaks on the wall, the fragments still glinting on the bed.
