Mated To The Mafia Werewolves

Chapter Thirty-one



Sandro hurried towards the infirmary while glancing around to avoid being caught unaware. He hadn’t spotted any signs of the intruders, as Thalia had mentioned, but the sound of yelling outside indicated that the other pack members were keeping them busy.

Inside, he found Arabella curled up on the bed. Looking at her, he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

It was odd, but when Thalia had warned about the attack, his first thought had been of Arabella. Despite still feeling the ache from the aftermath of the injection, he felt the urge to watch over her. Perhaps it was his wolf’s influence, as Lace had been acting strangely lately, doing things he normally wouldn’t do. His wolf had even been having some unsavory thoughts about Arabella and seemed agitated whenever she was nearby. While he couldn’t deny her scent was alluring, he believed he had been with far more captivating women.

Arabella’s skin tingled, and she shifted slightly, sensing Sandro’s presence in the room. He was the only one who could make the hair on her body stand on end. The fear he often stirred within her due to his presence surged, and she cautiously sat up on the bed. Pulling the duvet Blaze had given her the day before to cover herself, she regarded him warily.

“What do you want?” she inquired.

“You’re quite rude,” Sandro remarked as he entered the room.

“You’ve earned however I choose to speak, and you certainly don’t have the right to dictate my tone,” Arabella retorted, glaring at him and crossing her arms defensively.

“I’m relieved you’re safe,” Sandro said.

“Oh, please,” she rolled her eyes. “That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. You never seem relieved when I’m fine, and I doubt you care about me.”

“To be honest, I’m relieved you look fine because only I have the power to end your life. I wouldn’t want anyone else to lay a finger on you, let alone hurt you.”

Arabella rolled her eyes, his words hardly surprising. He had already made his lack of care clear to her. She had allowed herself a brief moment of thinking he might care about her well-being. Perhaps she had been expecting too much. Blaze was maybe the only one who felt that way about her. He was the one who stood by her even during her darkest moments. He was far better than Sandro.

Yet, she couldn’t explain why she felt more drawn to Sandro than to Blaze. It might be because she had become accustomed to his torment, and those strange feelings might stem from that torture.

Sandro’s ears perked up as he heard more yelling from outside. He realized Arabella was unaware of the ongoing situation, as the Clinic was distant from the main building. The enemies would need to infiltrate the entire building before reaching the clinic. However, he doubted that would happen, considering he was still alive.

“Just stay in the room,” he instructed, moving back towards the door.

“You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Are you forgetting who I am so quickly? It seems I’m going soft on you, Bella.”

Sandro swiftly moved to her bedside, gripping her neck and pinning her to the bed.

Arabella gasped, struggling to free her neck from his grasp. He was too quick; she couldn’t comprehend how he had reached her side in the blink of an eye.Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

He was clearly skilled in torture, probably practicing to react faster in such situations.

“Stop!” she managed to choke out.

“What did I say about yelling or talking back? You need more lessons,” he retorted, his hand pressing harder against her neck. Her eyes bulged, and she convulsed on the bed, struggling as the pressure intensified.

She thought she might die like this, with her headstone bearing the cause of death as choking. That was if she ever received a proper funeral. More likely, her body would be discarded somewhere it would never be found, or even if discovered, it would be unrecognizable.

Arabella squeezed her eyes shut, preparing to take what she believed might be her last breath, when the door suddenly flung open.

“We have more important matters at hand,” Blaze’s voice cut in.

Blaze!

“Bastard!” Sandro grunted, releasing her neck.

Arabella shot out of bed, her knees wobbling as she stumbled towards a corner of the room. She gripped her sore neck, wincing at the pain. Tears blurred her vision as she looked towards Blaze and Sandro.

Blaze’s gaze met hers, and though her vision was blurry, she felt his stare. Her skin tingled even though she looked away.

Arabella flinched as a hand brushed her neck. “It’s me,” Blaze reassured, squatting in front of her. “Are you alright?”

She nodded, biting her lip to hold back tears. “I’m sorry I didn’t arrive sooner,” Blaze expressed regret.

“It’s not your fault,” Arabella whispered.

“It is. If I had been here, he wouldn’t have hurt you like-”

She tuned out his words, overcome with anger. Clenching her fists, she suddenly smacked him hard on the cheek and shoved him away.

Blaze’s eyes widened as he stared at Arabella, his voice tinged with surprise, “What was that for?”

“Stop making excuses for him! You are you, and he’s Sandro! He’s cruel, a freaking monster. Quit pretending he’s better than he really is!”

Blaze let out a sigh. He didn’t understand the reason for her sudden outburst, but he didn’t hold it against her. He could sense she had been bottling up a lot inside.

“I’m sorry, Arabella…” he offered.

“Just leave me alone!” she yelled, pulling away from him as he tried to grasp her hand. “Just f*ck off! I hate it here. I hate everyone!”

Blaze stood up and cautiously moved towards her despite her earlier protest. He embraced her in a hug and gently stroked her back.

“It’s okay to cry,” he murmured reassuringly. “You’re going to be okay.”

“How can I be okay?” she choked out.

“You will be,” Blaze said with conviction. He guided her towards the bed and helped her sit down. “I’ll be right back. Don’t leave the room.”

Arabella nodded, curling up into a ball on the bed, her tears flowing freely.


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