Mated To The Mafia Werewolves

Arabella, Sandro, and Clarisse reached the entrance of the Phoenix’s sacred ground. Lady Arabella stood at the center of a pentagram, and close to her was an elevated platform with a golden cup and an open book next to it.

Turning to address the gathering, Arabella gasped softly. “Is that me?” she murmured, looking from Sandro to Clarisse and back at the woman.

“You go about looking like everyone, Cara. Not that I blame you for that,” Sandro grunted.

“You’re one to talk,” Arabella glared at him, recalling her confusion between Alessandro the first and Sandro earlier. Now, she was faced with her own lookalike.

“Like I mentioned, the sin began a century ago, stemming from your ancestors. The figures you see here are your forebears,” Clarisse explained.

“What about Alessia, then?” Arabella inquired, considering their twin connection. “If there’s a first doppelganger, it would make sense for her to be present too.”

“She was absorbed by the first, but that’s a tale for another time,” Clarisse replied.

Arabella hesitated, sensing dark energy surrounding Clarisse. She refrained from asking about Alessia’s fate, deciding to inquire later as she had said.

“What’s going on?” Arabella asked, eyeing Sandro’s arm wrapped around her waist. Despite her attempts to break free, he maintained his grip.

“It’s the rising of the Phoenix ceremony for debutantes,” Sandro whispered, leaning in.

“Feeling cold?” he added, noticing her arms wrapped around herself. Shrugging off his leather jacket, he draped it over her.

“I never said I was cold,” Arabella retorted, trying to shrug off Sandro’s jacket, but he held her shoulder firmly.

“I’m just trying to protect you, Arabella. Why make this so difficult?” Sandro’s brows furrowed.

“I’d be more protected away from you,” she replied, adding, “You suddenly realize I need protection now because I’m pregnant?”

“I realized it a long time ago,” Sandro insisted, making Arabella snort.

“You’re absurdly funny. And need I remind you that no amount of groveling will change my perception of you,” she declared.

“I never wanted you to change your perception. I’m not trying to be a good guy, Bella; I just want the kid to be safe,” Sandro clarified.

“Why do you care about my baby now? You hate the mother, remember? It makes no sense you’re acting all sentimental just because I’m pregnant, and it’s not even yours,” Arabella wrinkled her nose.

Sandro growled. “Stop rubbing your affair with Blaze in my face.”

Arabella heard Sandro’s warning but didn’t care. If that made him leave her alone, she’d happily goad him again.

Sandro gripped her hand tightly. “I know what’s running through your mind, Cara, and no, don’t do it. You’ll only make it worse for him.”

“If I can’t take my anger out on you in your current state, I’ll take it out on him. I don’t care if I have to remove his limbs,” Sandro growled.

Arabella shivered, meeting his angry gaze. She bit her lip but refused to cower.

“Whatever, Sandro. Just stop acting so touchy suddenly. We know how it often ends up,” she shrugged.

“I brought you both here to see what happened in the past life, and you’re squabbling like some old married couple?” Clarisse interrupted, glaring at them. “I could have separated you longer.”

“What’s happening?” Arabella asked.

“Well, the ceremony finished,” Clarisse rolled her eyes.

“Oh!” Arabella could only mutter, glancing around.

She didn’t think she and Sandro had been talking for that long. She noticed ashes on the ground and the phoenixes standing, dusting their body off.

“Except the ceremony is only for a second because we didn’t even use up to a minute,” Arabella said.

“It’s fine. Let’s return-”

Clarisse was interrupted by a loud voice booming, “Surrender or be killed.”

Arabella’s eyes widened as she saw Alessandro the first step out of the shrub he was hiding behind.

“This is weird. A copy of you and me. What the hell?” Sandro muttered.

Arabella ignored him, her focus on Alessandro the first approaching her lookalike.

“Alessandro,” she heard her lookalike snarl.

The hate on their faces indicated their strong dislike for each other. What surprised Arabella was when they stalked toward each other, grabbed each other’s faces, and locked lips in front of everyone.

“What the hell?” Arabella and Sandro muttered together.

“I’m sorry, Clara, but were they supposed to kiss? I mean, she’s the evil one, right, and-” Sandro started.

“It’s Clarisse,” Clarisse corrected.

“He’s the evil one,” Arabella retorted, glaring at Sandro.

“She is. Have you seen her abilities? I doubt it,” Sandro stated, his eyes returning to the scene.

Both had ripped off each other’s clothes, their upper body bare, unashamed of the onlookers.

“This isn’t how I played it out in my head,” Clarisse muttered, eyes narrowed.

Alessandro the first dragged Lady Arabella toward the podium, bent her over and ripped off his breech.

“Fuck Alessandro,” Lady Arabella snarled as Alessandro’s the first palm collided with her backside before parting her asscheeks, and he thrust inside of her. “Do you know how long I waited for you to do this?”

“I’ve been waiting all day, my dear,” Grunted Allesandro the first, his hand moving to her throat as he pounded into her.

“Okay, this is disturbing and disgusting. Time out, please,” Arabella declared, signaling a timeout.

The scene before her shattered her vows of not thinking about Sandro inappropriately. Memories of their time together flooded her mind, and she felt the urge to throw up.

“You don’t have to watch, you know,” Sandro stated, turning to Clarisse, but she wasn’t with them.

“Where’s she?” Sandro scanned the area, but there was no sign of her.Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“How would I know? She was just here with us,” Arabella replied.

Feeling a shift in the atmosphere, Sandro tugged Arabella into him, ignoring her protest.

His eyes narrowed as he observed the Phoenixes seated. They were now staring in their direction, snarling, while Lady and Alessandro remained oblivious to what was happening.

“Stay put, Arabella,” Sandro growled.

Hearing the change in his voice, she turned to stare at him and frowned to see his pupils dilated, turning golden, and his canines out. It was the first time she saw him up close since learning what he was, and it didn’t frighten her.

Instead, he looked dangerously sexy and angry.

“What’s going on?” she asked, licking her lower lip, trying to divert her thoughts.

“I think we’ve been tricked,” Sandro muttered.

“What?” Arabella stuttered.

“Listen to me,” Sandro said, making her face him while remaining aware of the creatures in the background. “No matter the hate you feel for me right now, you need to set it aside. Do everything I say, and when I say run, do so without thinking about my safety.”

“O-Okay,” Arabella said, now realizing the seriousness of the situation as she glanced around.

The Phoenixes, who had been watching everything unfold, turned their attention to them, their slitted eyes emanating hatred.

“Arabella…”

Clarisse cut off Sandro’s words. “I know you want to say run; unfortunately, she can’t do so.”

“What the…” Sandro was cut off for the second time, and this time it was Arabella.

“Sandro!” Arabella screamed. One minute, she had been standing next to him, and the next, she was bound to a tree in the middle of where the pentagram had been.

“Bella!” Sandro growled, his eyes narrowing at Clarisse. “Let her go, and who the hell are you?”

“I forgive you for not knowing me. I was quite infamous during my time,” Clarisse said.

She continued, “But I don’t mind reintroducing myself again. I am Astralys, the greatest sorceress of all time, and you, my dears, are just what I needed to create the unstoppable Astralys armies!” She tilted her head backward, cackling.

“The fuck!” Sandro grunted.

Arabella found nothing funny about the situation. She should have trusted Ellen. If she had realized it sooner, maybe she wouldn’t be in this predicament. Yet, Astralys, in the form of Clarisse, had planned everything meticulously. There was no way they wouldn’t have met.