Emiliano maintained his composure for the remainder of the evening. With Fia by his side, they became the center of attention—dancing, laughing, and captivating everyone with their easy chemistry. He couldn't help but feel a swell of pride each time someone complimented her grace or beauty. She was radiant, the perfect partner, and more importantly, she was his.
As the night wore on, Emiliano was acutely aware that she hadn’t yet met his family, a deliberate choice on his part. He wanted the introductions to be on his terms, not overshadowed by the party’s chaos or the lingering tension with Marco. But the time would come, and when it did, he vowed to protect her from anything—or anyone—that might threaten her.
By the time the last dance ended, and the final toast was made, Emiliano reluctantly escorted Fia to her car. He kissed her hand, his lips lingering against her soft skin, and assured her he had to stay behind to handle end-of-night host duties. Though reluctant to part, she smiled and left with promises to call him the next day.
But the moment the last guest exited and the doors to the estate closed, Emiliano’s carefully maintained façade shattered.
“Marco!” Emiliano’s voice cut through the now-empty ballroom like a whip.
Marco, leaning casually against the bar, glanced up lazily, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Ah, there he is—the host of the century. You didn’t look so angry an hour ago, brother. What changed?”
Emiliano strode toward him, his fists clenched, his expression thunderous. “You know damn well what changed.”
The rest of the family, still lingering in the shadows, exchanged uneasy glances. None of them dared step forward to intervene—not yet.
“Stay away from her,” Emiliano growled, his voice low and dangerous. “She is my mate. If you so much as look at her the wrong way again, I’ll make you regret it.”
Marco raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Mate?” he echoed, his tone laced with mockery. “Funny, I didn’t hear any grand announcements. Shouldn’t the whole family have been informed about such a monumental occasion?”
“Don’t play games with me,” Emiliano snapped, his tone sharp enough to cut glass. “You crossed the line tonight, and you know it.”
Marco pushed off the bar, his expression shifting from smug to defiant. “And what line is that, brother? Talking to her? Dancing with her? Or maybe it was telling her the truth about the oh-so-perfect Emiliano Bianchi?”
“You call trying to manipulate her the truth?” Emiliano took a step closer, the tension between them crackling like a live wire.
Their father’s voice, sharp and commanding, broke through the escalating storm. “Enough!”
The room fell silent as their father, Gregorio Bianchi, stepped into view, his presence imposing and authoritative. His dark eyes swept over his sons, narrowing as he took in their standoff.
“What is this nonsense?” Gregorio demanded, his tone brooking no argument. “Marco, explain yourself.”
Marco’s smirk returned, though it lacked its earlier confidence. “Ask Emiliano,” he said, spreading his hands. “Apparently, he’s been keeping secrets.”
Gregorio’s gaze shifted to Emiliano, who met it without hesitation. “I’ve found my mate,” Emiliano said simply, his voice steady but firm.
A ripple of shock moved through the family, murmurs breaking out among the gathered relatives.
“You found your mate?” Gregorio asked, his tone softening just slightly with surprise.
“Yes,” Emiliano replied, his attention still locked on Marco. “And I’ll deal with anyone who dares interfere.”
The weight of his declaration hung in the air, silencing any further questions. Emiliano’s focus remained fixed on his brother, daring him to make the next move.
For a long moment, the two of them stood locked in a silent battle, their gazes hard and unyielding. The tension was palpable, and Emiliano’s family watched with bated breath, unsure if Marco would take the challenge Emiliano had clearly laid before him.
But Marco, ever the opportunist, broke eye contact first, his smirk returning. “Congratulations, brother,” he said, his tone dripping with insincerity. “I’m sure she’ll fit right in.”
Without waiting for a response, Marco turned and strode out of the room, leaving a trail of unease in his wake.
Gregorio sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’ve brought her into this family now,” he said to Emiliano, his voice low but weighted. “You’d better be prepared for what that means.”
Emiliano nodded, his jaw tight. “I’ll protect her. No matter what.”
His father said nothing more, simply giving him a long, measured look before turning and walking away.
As the room emptied, Emiliano’s resolve only strengthened. Marco’s behavior tonight was just the beginning, and Emiliano knew it. But he also knew one thing with absolute certainty: Fia was worth every battle, every sacrifice. And he would fight for her—against anyone, even his own family.
*
Emiliano leaned against the cool marble wall of his penthouse shower, letting the icy water cascade over his tense shoulders. It did little to quell the fire raging within him. Every moment spent apart from Fia made it worse—her scent, her laughter, her defiance. She had ignited something primal in him, a need so profound it made his chest ache.
He wanted her. Needed her. And if she allowed it, he’d claim her in every way imaginable.
But he didn’t trust himself, not tonight.
His hands gripped the edge of the counter as he stepped out of the shower, droplets trailing down his muscled frame. The ache in his bones was unmistakable now, a dull throb that grew stronger with each passing hour. He recognized it instantly, and dread curled in his gut like a coiled serpent.
The full moon was coming.
A curse escaped his lips, sharp and guttural, as he grabbed a towel and wiped himself down. He should have had more time—at least another week before the pull became unbearable. But his beast had changed the timeline. It had sensed her.
Fia.
The knowledge that she was out there, close yet tantalizingly out of reach, was enough to drive his other half mad with need. The wolf inside him demanded to find her, to take her, to mark her as his under the glow of the moon. And if Emiliano wasn’t careful, it would win.
He ran a hand through his damp hair, pacing the expansive bedroom. How was he supposed to explain this to her? Fia had grown up in a world where the supernatural existed only in stories. What would she think of him—what he truly was?
He had three days at best before the full moon. Three days to find a way to warn her without scaring her off. But the timing was already against him.
The beast wouldn’t wait.
The moment Emiliano thought of Fia’s wide amber eyes, her scent flooded his senses—a blend of wildflowers and honey. His claws ached to break free, his vision flickering between human and wolf. He let out a shuddering breath and slammed his fist into the wall.
“No,” he growled to himself, his voice rough with effort. “Not like this.”
But the beast snarled in defiance, pressing against the edges of his control. It didn’t care about patience or finesse. It cared only about claiming what was rightfully theirs.
Emiliano collapsed onto the edge of his bed, burying his face in his hands. He would have to tell her soon, prepare her for what was coming. Because if he didn’t…
The thought of his wolf finding her on its own, unrestrained, was too horrifying to bear.