Werewolves long for the day they meet their mates. For Zane and Alessandra that's not the case. Zane is in love with Alessandra's sister and Alessandra isn't looking for love. Can these stubborn wolves resist the mate bond?
They might deny the bond...
"There are plenty of ways to die, but only love can kill and keep you alive to feel it." -Leo Christopher
Italy 1468
He stood in his study, observing his pack members as they trained. Their skin lined with sweat and their feet with dirt. The Luna Rossa pack was at the top for a reason, no one dared to mess with them. The armies they trained were as large as the other packs themselves. The strategies they were taught have been said to be practiced by the Lycans themselves. At the heart of it all was Lorenzo Moretti himself. Men respected him and wished they were him, while the ladies were ready to drop their panties by just looking at him.
He was a sight to behold, they said.
He could kill me and I would be ok with it, they said.
I wish he was my mate, they said.
I could melt at the sight of him, they said.
Yet there was one female who didn't see the big deal with him.
So what? He's just a man, she thought but didn't dare say.
Rosanna Belluci was an interesting woman. She wanted the finer things in life and didn't mind being the center of attention. Her tan complexion matched with her rosy cheeks and long brown locks often caught the attention of men. Her smile was as radiant as the sun and her eyes a deep brown that enchanted men with a simple look. Those brown eyes reminded them of home, enveloped them in a sense of friendliness of comfort. At the same time, they had strength to them, filled with willpower and certainty. Men described her as the goddess herself. Others said she was a witch who had warped her looks to gain the attention of men.
How foolish, Rosanna thought.
She opens her legs for any man.
She's quite the whore.
Her hair is too plain.
Her face is too round
Her laugh resembles the croak of a toad.
Her nose is bigger than her brain.
Her breasts are the only reason men like her.
I bet her mother was a whore like her too.
Rosanna was used to the rude comments of the pack women. She attracted attention wherever she went even though she never tried. Her mother had told her it was her aura, warm like a summer day yet strong as steel. The women of the Luna Rossa thought differently. She never believed it to be her fault that their mates were always trying to grope her. If anything it was the males' fault.
The spotlight had been on her since the day she was born so the maiden chose to spend most of her time in the library reading. She found it to be more productive than gossiping with the other women about petty matters. Unfortunately all this time she spent away had been shaped into "whore time" by the other females.
She did not mind though. Her books were her escape. Her escape from the life she lived.
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