The Mafiaso And The AD 1024

Wolf out

Amara's PoV

Everything happened in a blur. The shot rang out, and my world narrowed down to Donte, crumpling to the ground as the scarred man smirked with satisfaction.

A cold, consuming rage took over, blocking out everything else. I could feel the shift in my body, the pull of the wolf inside me demanding to be released.

Without a second thought, I let it take over. My bones cracked and reshaped, muscles rippling under fur as I morphed into my wolf form.

The pain of the transformation was nothing compared to the fury driving me.

All l could focus on was the man standing over Donte, and the primal need to tear him apart.

With a snarl, I charged. The room seemed to slow down, the chaos around me fading into the background.

I leapt through the air, jaws snapping shut on the man's arm before he even had time to register my attack, taste of blood filled mouth, but it wasn't enough I wanted more.

I twisted, using my weight and momentum to slam him to the ground.

His qun clattered away, useless now as I bit down harder, feeling the satisfying crunch of bone between my teeth.

He screamed, a sound that barely registered through the red haze clouding my mind.

All that mattered was making him pay, making him suffer for daring to harm Donte.

I didn't stop. I tore at him, ripping through flesh and muscle until his screams turned to gurgles and then to nothing at all.

I'll barely notice when his head detached from his body, rolling across the floor in a macabre display.

The violence, the blood, it was all a blur as I reverted back to my human form, my hands slick with crimson as I knelt beside Donte.

He was lying there, pale and still, a pool of blood spreading around him. The sight snapped me back to reality. The terror I had pushed aside came rushing back. I couldn't lose him, not like this

I pressed my hands to the wound, ignoring the way they shook as I began to chant under my breath.

The words of the healing spell tumbled from my lips, desperation giving them strength.

A soft, golden light emanated from my hands, seeping into Donte's wound, knitting the torn flesh back together.

"Come on, Donte,"I whispered, my voice trembling. "Stay with me."
The light grew brighter, warmer, as I poured everything I had into the spell. Slowly, too slowly, the bleeding began to stop.

His breathing, ragged and shallow, evened out bit by bit. I didn't let up, didn't stop chanting until I was sure the wound was closed, until l could feel his heartbeat strong and steady beneath my hands.

When I finally pulled back, I was shaking with the effort it had taken to heal him.

Donte's eyes fluttered open, meeting mine, and for a moment, I just stared at him, relief washing over me like a wave.

"Amara..." he murmured, his voice weak but alive.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay calm, to keep the tears threatening to spill at bay.

"You're going to be okay," I told him, though it was as much for my benefit as it was for his.

"I've got you." Donte reached up, his hand brushing against my cheek, smearing blood there.

But I didn't care. AIl that mattered was that he was alive, that I had saved him.

"We need to get you somewhere safe," I said, my voice firmer now as I helped him sit up, ignoring the carnage around us.

The battle was still raging, but I could see the tides turning in our favour.

My display of power, my transformation, had sent a clear message: this fight was over.

Marcel appeared beside us, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and respect as he looked at me, then at Donte. "We need to move," he said, his voice urgent.

"The others are retreating, but they'll regroup if we don't get out of here."

I nodded, helping Donte to his feet. He was weak, leaning heavily on me, but there was still that familiar determination in his eyes.

Even now, on the brink of collapse, he was still thinking of the fight, of protecting his people.

As we made our way through the wreckage of the ballroom, I couldn't help but glance back at the bodies I had left behind.

The man who had shot Donte lay in a crumpled heap, his head yards away from his body.

The sight should have horrified me, but all I felt was cold satisfaction.

He had tried to take Donte from me, and he had paid the price.

"Amara.." Donte's voice, stronger now, pulled me from my thoughts.I looked at him, and he gave me a small, pained smile.

I squeezed his hand, not trusting myself to speak. There was so much I wanted to say, so much I needed to tell him, but now wasn't the time. We still had a battle to win, a war to survive.

But as I helped Donte out of the ballroom, one thing was clear: I would do whatever it took to protect him. matter the cost.