The Werewolf Prince and I (The Moretti Werewolf 1)

After dinner, the dancing began. Domenico excused himself, told Misty to enjoy herself, and got to work. It soon became apparent to him that everyone was fascinated with his wife. They either loved her or were suspicious of her, but they were interested in her.

At this point, it was more than he could ask for.

“You seem happy,” Dio murmured when he joined Domenico at the sides of the ballroom. Before them, couples swirled around the dance floor.

“Just enjoying my wife’s success,” he said. Something burned inside him but he tried to quelch it. “She’s not a pack princess. But she’s a lot better.”

Dio’s voice was bland when he asked, “Is that so?”

“I have the Cavaliers and Castellanos as well as the Fontabellas and Buenaventuras on my side,” Domenico stated. “These packs were never your allies.”

“True.”

The burning in him intensified and he knew he had to go. “It was nice talking to you, Father, but I have to go…business to do,” he managed to say.

“Domenico…”

He nodded to his father and left. He still could not make himself forgive Dio for what he had said all those years ago.

Misty had watched the tableau between father and son and excused herself when Domenico walked away. She caught hold of him when he reached the balcony.

Domenico tensed at the light touch but relaxed when he heard his wife murmur his name.  He smiled down at her. “Come join me for a bit.”

“Of course.”

The night breeze was cool and deliciously refreshing on their skin. There was a light scent of seawater in the air and the sound of distant waves lapping against the shore lent a rhythmic beat to the evening. The Fiarinos’ mansion sat atop a barren white cliff, giving them a breathtaking view of the sea.

Domenico leaned against the balustrade and pulled her close so she could rest against him. He clasped his arms around her, settling his hands above hers.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Yes…you?”

“I’ve done my work.”

She frowned. “Is this night about work?”

“Yes.”

Misty wanted to tell Domenico not to focus too much on his work because it wasn’t healthy. He was too obsessive about it, and she feared it had more to do with his old feud with Dio than with his devotion to his duties.

But she couldn’t – not now at least. It did not feel right. She asked casually, “How was your talk with your father?”

“The same as before.” Domenico’s tone was dismissive.

Misty decided not to take the hint. “Will you never forgive him?”

Domenico sighed. “Why am I not surprised that you know the story about us?”

She wisely kept silent.

“I’ve forgiven him, I suppose. But I can’t forget.”

“Cant…or won’t?”

“Is there a difference?” he asked somewhat edgily.

She turned to him with an earnest look of appeal. “Yes, there is. Because I love you and I know I can forgive and forget anything for you.”

“Big words, Misty.”

“I mean it, though.”

“It’s easier said than done. Leave it be.”

She nodded, knowing she had pushed him enough for tonight.

On their way back, Domenico received a phone call that had him frowning. But he did not say what it was. When they reached home, she was not altogether surprised that Domenico was not going inside.

Misty did not like the cold glitter of fury mingling with triumph in his face. She didn’t understand what was happening, but she understood him because she loved him. “Domenico?”

He looked at her.

“Whatever it is, wherever it is you’re going, promise me you’ll take care.”

Misty’s words touched him and he drew her close, loving how she instantly and trustingly curved around him, her arms going around his neck.

“Don’t worry about me.” He kissed her forehead. “I don’t intend to make you a widow anytime soon.”

“You better not.” Her arms tightened around him. “I love you, Domenico.”

“I love you,” he whispered back.

She watched him go, tears in her eyes, scared without knowing why.

~~~~

Domenico was greeted by Ricardo and surprisingly, his daughter Rafaella, the girl he was supposed to marry. He was uncomfortable at her presence but tried not to show it as Rafaella greeted him with a kiss on each cheek. Both landed dangerously close to his lips, something he and Ricardo both chose to ignore.

Domenico looked at the older man. “What has come up?”

“We have found a suspect.”

“You have interrogated him already?”

“I was waiting for you.”

Inside the interrogation room, Domenico swiftly hid his shock when he realized who the traitor was.

It was Gardo Fiarino, nephew to the pack leader of the Fiarinos, the very same pack who held a ball in his honor and Misty’s. Gardo’s capture revealed that treachery existed even in the innermost circles of Lyccan society. Could it mean that even members of the Lyccan Council were to be distrusted?

The interrogation was over in an hour, with Gardo giving up the location of the vampire he had paid to execute the murders. Domenico led the hunt for the vampire, and when it was apparent that Gardo’s mercenary would not reveal anything of import, Domenico killed him swiftly and ruthlessly.

When Domenico came back home, a bad taste remained in his mouth. He wondered if Misty would still love him if she knew just how ruthless he could be.

Entering their bedroom, he was surprised to see Misty waiting for him.

“Welcome home,” she said softly.

They made love without words, Domenico savoring the healing power of her touch. She murmured her love for him over and over, and he shuddered in her arms as they came together.

Misty stroked his hair, wishing she could do more to draw his pain. Because she loved him, his hurt was palpable, something that made her heart bleed as well.

Out of the blue, he said, “I killed someone.”

She slowly pulled away and there was a part of him that wanted to snatch her back. But he let her go.

Misty asked slowly, “Did he deserve it?”

“Yes.”

“Do you regret it?”

“I don’t know. Not now.”

“I’m not in a position to judge you, Domenico. But I trust you and I know you’ll always do the right thing. Why did you kill him?”

“He no longer had a purpose.”