Chapter 5 m the mafia ball, the scream She’d almost killed them all. The door opened. Dante walked in, his black shirt unbuttoned at the top, the faintest smear of blood on his jaw. His wolf still simmered beneath his skin; she could feel its growl in the air. “Were you going to tell me?” he asked quietly. Lyra swallowed. “Tell you what?” “That you carry fire in your veins. That you can burn through walls with a scream.” He took a step closer, each movement deliberate, predatory. “Do you think I enjoy cleaning up after you?” Her heart twisted with guilt. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, Dante. I don’t even understand what I did.” He stopped right in front of her, his hand gripping the headboard beside her head. “That’s what terrifies me, Lyra. You don’t understand it but it answers to you.” Her voice cracked. “You think I wanted this? I’d give anything to be normal again.” His jaw flexed. For a moment, something like pity flickered across his features before it hardened again. “Normal doesn’t exist in my world. And you… you’re not normal. You’re dangerous.” She stood, her frustration breaking through. “Then why save me? Why not hand me over to your council like everyone else wants?” Dante’s silence was deafening. He turned away, his fists clenched. The truth slipped out before he could stop it. “Because your blood is tied to mine.” Lyra blinked. “What?” He exhaled slowly. “You were right. I’m not cursed the way they say. My wolf’s power is sealed by a bloodline curse. The only way to break it is through someone who carries the ancient fire. You.” Her throat went dry. “So… you kept me because you need me.” Dante’s gaze met hers, unreadable. “It started that way.” The room fell silent. Her chest heaved, torn between anger and heartbreak. Every moment she’d mistaken as protection was nothing but a calculated move. “Then I’m your prisoner,” she whispered. “No,” he said sharply. “You’re my responsibility.” “I don’t want to be your responsibility.” He moved closer, his voice dropping low. “You don’t get to choose, Lyra. You’re already mine. The moment you stepped into my territory, fate claimed you.” She flinched at the possessiveness in his tone. “You think you can own me because you’re stronger? Because you’re the Alpha?” “I don’t think I can,” Dante murmured, stepping close enough that his breath fanned her lips. “I know I can.” Her pulse quickened. She should have pushed him away, but her wolf betrayed her, drawn to his scent, his heat, the dark energy that vibrated off him. “Stop…” she breathed, though her voice held no conviction. He cupped her jaw, his thumb tracing the curve of her lip. “Tell me to stop, and I will.” She wanted to….wanted to scream at him for manipulating her, for binding her fate to his. But the ache in her chest silenced her reason. The tension that had burned between them since the night he found her snapped like a thread. He kissed her. The world tilted. His lips were demanding, rough, tasting of danger and rain. Her hands trembled as they pressed against his chest but she didn’t push him away. She melted into him, letting herself drown in the forbidden fire between them. When he deepened the kiss, she gasped, and his growl rumbled low in his throat. His wolf stirred, hungry, primal. She could feel it beneath his skin, the same darkness that frightened her and yet, it called to her own. Her body responded on instinct. The pull between them was magnetic, irresistible. Every brush of his fingers sent waves of heat down her spine. For a fleeting moment, there was no mafia, no curse, no fire, only two broken souls chained by fate. But then, just as suddenly, he tore himself away. Breathing hard, Dante staggered back, his eyes glowing crimson. “Damn it,” he muttered, clutching his head as if fighting something inside. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.” Lyra’s heart pounded, her lips trembling. “What’s happening to you?” He looked up, eyes wild. “The mark… it’s reacting.” Her confusion turned to fear when she saw it—the faint symbol glowing on the side of his neck, shaped like a wolf’s fang wrapped in flame. She’d never seen it before, but somehow, it felt familiar like a memory buried deep inside her. “What is that?” she whispered. Dante’s breathing turned ragged. “The mark of sin. A bond between cursed bloodlines. You’ve awakened it.” She stepped back. “I didn’t do anything!” His voice turned hoarse. “You did. When our wolves touched, when I kissed you it activated the link between us. It means my curse is unraveling… and so is yours.” “I don’t even know what mine is!” He advanced on her, desperate. “Then remember, damn it! Because if you don’t, the council will kill you before I can stop them.” The air crackled with tension. Lightning flashed through the window, illuminating the fury and the fear in his eyes. Before Lyra could respond, his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He grabbed it, his expression shifting from anger to something far worse. “What is it?” she asked softly. He didn’t answer right away. He stared at the screen, his knuckles turning white around the phone. Finally, he said, “They know.” “Who knows?” “The Mafia Council.” His voice dropped to a deadly whisper. “Someone leaked a video from the ball. You were caught transforming.” Her blood ran cold. “No…” “They’ve declared you a threat to supernatural order. You’re to be executed within twenty-four hours.” Her knees went weak. “Executed?” Dante nodded grimly. “They think you’re the Omega of Destruction reborn. They’ll send hunters, wolves, maybe even assassins. You won’t survive if they find you.” Tears burned in her eyes. “You could save me. You have power, connections—please—” He turned away, conflicted. “If I go against the council, I start a war.” “Then let them kill me?” she whispered. “Is that easier for you?” His hands clenched at his sides. “Y"The Mark Of Sin". But if I do, they’ll come for us both.” She took a trembling step toward him. “Then let them.” For a heartbeat, the air between them stilled. He cupped her face, brushing away a tear with his thumb. “You don’t know what you’re saying.” “Yes, I do.” Her voice steadied, soft but firm. “I’m done running, Dante. If I’m going to die, I’d rather do it standing next to the one man who made me feel alive.” Something incold armor he at, we face it together.” The moment felt fragile, suspended in silence Shados poured into the room,

Chapter 5 – The Mark of Sin

The storm outside matched the chaos in Lyra’s chest. Thunder cracked against the windows of Dante’s mansion, rain slashing the glass like furious claws. She sat on the edge of his bed, shivering under the weight of what she’d unleashed. Her mind replayed the scene from the mafia ball, the screams, the silver fire, the terror in everyone’s eyes.

She’d almost killed them all.

The door opened. Dante walked in, his black shirt unbuttoned at the top, the faintest smear of blood on his jaw. His wolf still simmered beneath his skin; she could feel its growl in the air.

“Were you going to tell me?” he asked quietly.

Lyra swallowed. “Tell you what?”

“That you carry fire in your veins. That you can burn through walls with a scream.” He took a step closer, each movement deliberate, predatory. “Do you think I enjoy cleaning up after you?”

Her heart twisted with guilt. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, Dante. I don’t even understand what I did.”

He stopped right in front of her, his hand gripping the headboard beside her head. “That’s what terrifies me, Lyra. You don’t understand it but it answers to you.”

Her voice cracked. “You think I wanted this? I’d give anything to be normal again.”

His jaw flexed. For a moment, something like pity flickered across his features before it hardened again. “Normal doesn’t exist in my world. And you… you’re not normal. You’re dangerous.”

She stood, her frustration breaking through. “Then why save me? Why not hand me over to your council like everyone else wants?”

Dante’s silence was deafening. He turned away, his fists clenched. The truth slipped out before he could stop it. “Because your blood is tied to mine.”

Lyra blinked. “What?”

He exhaled slowly. “You were right. I’m not cursed the way they say. My wolf’s power is sealed by a bloodline curse. The only way to break it is through someone who carries the ancient fire. You.”

Her throat went dry. “So… you kept me because you need me.”

Dante’s gaze met hers, unreadable. “It started that way.”

The room fell silent. Her chest heaved, torn between anger and heartbreak. Every moment she’d mistaken as protection was nothing but a calculated move.

“Then I’m your prisoner,” she whispered.

“No,” he said sharply. “You’re my responsibility.”

“I don’t want to be your responsibility.”

He moved closer, his voice dropping low. “You don’t get to choose, Lyra. You’re already mine. The moment you stepped into my territory, fate claimed you.”

She flinched at the possessiveness in his tone. “You think you can own me because you’re stronger? Because you’re the Alpha?”

“I don’t think I can,” Dante murmured, stepping close enough that his breath fanned her lips. “I know I can.”

Her pulse quickened. She should have pushed him away, but her wolf betrayed her, drawn to his scent, his heat, the dark energy that vibrated off him.

“Stop…” she breathed, though her voice held no conviction.

He cupped her jaw, his thumb tracing the curve of her lip. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

She wanted to….wanted to scream at him for manipulating her, for binding her fate to his. But the ache in her chest silenced her reason. The tension that had burned between them since the night he found her snapped like a thread.

He kissed her.

The world tilted. His lips were demanding, rough, tasting of danger and rain. Her hands trembled as they pressed against his chest but she didn’t push him away. She melted into him, letting herself drown in the forbidden fire between them.

When he deepened the kiss, she gasped, and his growl rumbled low in his throat. His wolf stirred, hungry, primal. She could feel it beneath his skin, the same darkness that frightened her and yet, it called to her own.

Her body responded on instinct. The pull between them was magnetic, irresistible. Every brush of his fingers sent waves of heat down her spine. For a fleeting moment, there was no mafia, no curse, no fire, only two broken souls chained by fate.

But then, just as suddenly, he tore himself away.

Breathing hard, Dante staggered back, his eyes glowing crimson. “Damn it,” he muttered, clutching his head as if fighting something inside. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Lyra’s heart pounded, her lips trembling. “What’s happening to you?”

He looked up, eyes wild. “The mark… it’s reacting.”

Her confusion turned to fear when she saw it—the faint symbol glowing on the side of his neck, shaped like a wolf’s fang wrapped in flame. She’d never seen it before, but somehow, it felt familiar like a memory buried deep inside her.

“What is that?” she whispered.

Dante’s breathing turned ragged. “The mark of sin. A bond between cursed bloodlines. You’ve awakened it.”

She stepped back. “I didn’t do anything!”

His voice turned hoarse. “You did. When our wolves touched, when I kissed you it activated the link between us. It means my curse is unraveling… and so is yours.”

“I don’t even know what mine is!”

He advanced on her, desperate. “Then remember, damn it! Because if you don’t, the council will kill you before I can stop them.”

The air crackled with tension. Lightning flashed through the window, illuminating the fury and the fear in his eyes.

Before Lyra could respond, his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He grabbed it, his expression shifting from anger to something far worse.

“What is it?” she asked softly.

He didn’t answer right away. He stared at the screen, his knuckles turning white around the phone.

Finally, he said, “They know.”

“Who knows?”

“The Mafia Council.” His voice dropped to a deadly whisper. “Someone leaked a video from the ball. You were caught transforming.”

Her blood ran cold. “No…”

“They’ve declared you a threat to supernatural order. You’re to be executed within twenty-four hours.”

Her knees went weak. “Executed?”

Dante nodded grimly. “They think you’re the Omega of Destruction reborn. They’ll send hunters, wolves, maybe even assassins. You won’t survive if they find you.”

Tears burned in her eyes. “You could save me. You have power, connections—please—”

He turned away, conflicted. “If I go against the council, I start a war.”

“Then let them kill me?” she whispered. “Is that easier for you?”

His hands clenched at his sides. “You think this is easy for me? Every instinct I have is screaming to protect you.” He looked at her then, eyes raw with emotion. “But if I do, they’ll come for us both.”

She took a trembling step toward him. “Then let them.”

For a heartbeat, the air between them stilled. He cupped her face, brushing away a tear with his thumb. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Yes, I do.” Her voice steadied, soft but firm. “I’m done running, Dante. If I’m going to die, I’d rather do it standing next to the one man who made me feel alive.”

Something in his expression cracke, the cold armor he always wore faltering. He kissed her forehead gently, a whisper of something tender and dangerous.

“Then you stay close,” he murmured. “Whatever happens next, we face it together.”

The moment felt fragile, suspended in silence until the mansion’s alarms began to blare.

Dante’s head snapped up, his wolf growling. “They’re here.”

Lyra’s breath hitched. “Who?”

“The council’s enforcers.” He turned to her, eyes flashing with fury and protectiveness. “Run, Lyra. Now.”

She hesitated. “And you?”

“I’ll hold them off.”

The door exploded inward before she could move, splinters flying. Shadows poured into the room, masked figures with silver weapons gleaming under the flickering lights.

Lyra

screamed as Dante’s eyes turned fully red, his fangs extending, his voice a dark growl that shook the walls.

“Anyone who touches her dies.”