A Love that Burns and a Friendship At Risk

*Capitulo Cinco*

The first rays of dawn spilled through the rose-patterned curtains of the Rosewood mansion, tinting Allistair’s room in soft gold. The roses etched into his bedposts caught the light, glowing faintly as if mocking the restless night he endured. His body was still warm, skin tingling with phantom touches that he refused to acknowledge.

His eyes blinked open, lashes damp, throat dry. He sat up slowly, pulling the blanket close to his bare chest. For a moment, he thought it had been just another dream—like so many before, where faceless phantoms consumed him in fire and roses. But this time, his lips were swollen, his neck throbbed with heat, and his wrists carried the faint bruising imprint of golden shackles.

Allistair’s breath hitched. It wasn’t a dream… it was him.

He pressed his fingers to the mark Samael had bitten. It still pulsed, not healing under his father’s power, shimmering faintly with a forbidden bond. Shame coursed through him. His body remembered every kiss, every word Samael whispered against his lips, and though his heart screamed defiance, some traitorous part of him longed for it again.

The door creaked.

“Zaney…” Allex’s voice came from the door. “Can you come out now? Breakfast is served down the dining hall. And oh our friends are here.” She added .

“I can Al, I’ll come down in a minute.” Allistair responded

“Okay we’ll wait downstairs.” She replied then her steps faded as she closed the door and went down.

Allistair sighed while getting up and preparing himself.

Coming down from his bedroom, Allistair was greeted by the grandeur of the Rosewood Mansion. Though not as vast and gilded as Casa Del Fierro—the king’s palace of gold and silver—it bore its own majesty, one carved from legacy and memory.

The polished marble stairs curved downward like a river of moonlight, each step echoing faintly beneath his hesitant stride. Railings of wrought iron wound with roses and thorns gleamed in the morning glow, their craftsmanship so intricate it seemed as though real roses had been frozen mid-bloom in metal.

Above, a chandelier hung like a captured constellation, golden arms dripping with crystals that fractured the sun into countless shards. They danced across the mahogany floors, across the velvet drapes of deep crimson, and across Allistair himself—painting him in shifting fragments of light as if the house itself was watching him, weighing the storm within his chest.

The air was perfumed with roses. Their scent bled in from the gardens sprawling just beyond the tall windows—roses of crimson, ivory, and midnight blue, each tended to with care, each whispering of the house’s name. Fountains carved into howling wolves stood guard in those gardens, their stone jaws open in eternal defiance, water spilling like silver tears.

To anyone else, Rosewood Mansion radiated elegance and warmth, the kind of beauty that could only come from a home built not just of stone but of love. Yet to Allistair, as his hand trailed along the rail, the splendor felt distant. The roses, the chandeliers, the gleaming floors—they were reminders of legacy, of expectations pressing down on his shoulders heavier than the ceiling’s golden crownwork.

He paused halfway down the stairs, catching his reflection in the gleaming floor below. His eyes lingered too long, too heavy.

Samael’s voice still clung to his ears. His touch still burned on his skin. Was it real, or just another dream bleeding into his waking hours?

The mansion whispered around him. Every corner of this place bore his family’s mark, their presence… and yet, inside him, an emptiness gnawed. He belonged here—yet last night, in Samael’s arms, he had felt something terrifyingly like home.

Arriving at the dining room there he saw his family and friends waiting for him and when they say him their faces lit up in happiness.

The dining hall glowed with soft morning light, golden beams streaming through tall windows to scatter across polished mahogany. The air was fragrant with honey and roasted meats, with warm bread and Raine’s rose-petal tea that always left the room perfumed like a garden.

It should have been comforting. It should have felt like home.

But Allistair sat stiffly at the long table, shoulders taut, fingers curled too tightly around his cup. The warmth in the room only pressed heavier on his chest, because his heart was elsewhere—still burning from Samael’s words in the hall of nobles. He is mine.

Alexander watched him from the head of the table, a mountain of authority with golden eyes sharp as blades. The alpha tore at bread and meat, but his attention never left his son. His jaw flexed at every faint tremor in Allistair’s hands. Raine, seated beside him, offered a softer presence. His silver gaze followed his boy with quiet worry, his smile tender, his every movement careful, as if not to frighten a bird too close to flight.

Allex lounged at the other side, chin propped in her hand. Her grin was careless, but her golden-streaked eyes betrayed her relief. She looked at her brother as though to say, You made it back. That’s enough.

Then there were his friends—always too loud, always too watchful.

Blaine Roan Cavanaugh leaned forward first, tall and broad-shouldered, his green eyes sharp despite the teasing grin. “About damn time, Zaney. We were about to raid your room and drag you here.”

Allistair blinked at  Blaine  “…I overslept.”

Blaine smirked, lowering his voice just enough for everyone to hear. “Or you were too busy dreaming of roses again.”

Marion tilted her head, lips curving into a knowing smirk. “Dreaming, hm? No wonder your cheeks are pink. Tell us, was it roses… or someone else?”

Allistair’s ears burned. “Shut up.”

“Your ears are burning red Zane? Did you really dreamt of someone?” Sheryn joined in the teasing.

And Tyrel, eager and always oblivious to the sharpness in the air, laughed. “I saved you some honeycakes, Allistair. Blaine was eyeing them, but I fought him off.”

“That’s because he ate half already,” Blaine and Sheryn retorted, elbowing him.

Their laughter rippled through the hall. Even Raine chuckled softly, pouring more tea into Allistair’s cup as though to coax him into peace. For a brief moment, the air lightened.

But Blaine’s eyes lingered too long, his grin thinning. Marion’s smirk grew sharper, her gaze narrowing. And Allex, who knew her brother best, spoke with unusual gentleness.

“You look pale, Zaney. Did you even sleep?”

Allistair forced a small laugh. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Blaine leaned closer, his voice dropping low. “You don’t lie well to us. Especially not to me.” His eyes flicked, almost unconsciously, to the faint mark on Allistair’s neck, barely hidden by his collar.

Allistair stiffened, hand tugging at the fabric.

Alexander’s fist struck the table, fire sparking from his knuckles. “Enough.”

The crack silenced the hall.

His golden gaze swept across Blaine, Marion, and Allex, daring them to press further. None did, though their eyes spoke louder than words.

The silence that followed pressed like a weight on Allistair’s chest. He stabbed his bread with trembling fingers, throat tight. He wanted to vanish.

But he did not get the chance.

The heavy oak doors rattled.

Every wolf in the mansion felt it—the pressure, the storm, the suffocating aura of fire that seared through the air.

Alexander surged to his feet, golden flames roaring along his arms. “He dares—”

Raine’s hand caught his wrist. “Mio. Let him speak before you set the house ablaze.”

The doors opened.

Samael Lucian DelFierro entered. No crown, no guards, no retinue. He wore only a dark cloak, but his presence alone was enough to choke the hall. His gaze swept once across the table, clashing with Alexander, softening briefly at Raine—before locking on Allistair.

The world froze.

Blaine and his sister Sheryn half-rose, teeth clenched. Marion’s lips parted, ready to spit venom. Tyrel trembled, instinct pressing fear into human bones. Allex’s wolf stirred, her golden streaks glowing faintly.

But Samael did not bare teeth. He did not raise fire.

He bowed his head.

“I am not here to fight,” he said, voice low, steady.

Alexander snarled. “Then why are you here, bastard?”

Samael’s gaze never left Allistair. His words were rough, almost breaking. “Because I need him to hear this. I accept it. I am in love with you.”

The words dropped like thunder.

Allistair’s chest seized.

“I will wait,” Samael pressed on. “For your coronation. For your awakening. If the gods decree me your mate, I will never release you. If they do not…” His lips twisted faintly. “…I will still not stop loving you. But I will not take another step until fate speaks.”

The silence was suffocating.

“Are we really doing this now you son of a bitch! To think I became friends with you!” Alexander shouted while Raine tried to hold and calm him down and also looked at Samael sharply.

“I’m an asshole Alex, I admit that and I’ll do anything for your family and Allistair to forgive me and I’ll fix this. I just can’t let him go now.” Samael looked at him straight in the eye, eyes softening at the thought of loving Allistair. His beast and wolf still and calm inside him.

Allistair’s voice suddenly cracked as he forced words out. “Get out.”

Samael looked at him and inclined his head then mouthed “I AM SORRY” . He turned, cloak sweeping, and left.

But his shadow lingered.

After the scene and breakfast Allex and Allistair’s friends said their goodbyes and Allistair and Raine got back to their duties in the pack with Allex and Allistair was given a day off by his parents from his duties as well as the alpha in training to rest.

Allistair escaped into the forest, past the roar of the waterfall that hid his secret place.

Behind the curtain of water, the hidden garden bloomed. Roses thick as blood stretched upward, their perfume heavy in the air, their thorns sharp as knives.

He collapsed onto bed made of blood red roses, burying his face in his hands.

Lilion’s voice rumbled within. You held yourself well. But you’re breaking.

“I don’t want him,” Allistair whispered, though his voice trembled. “I shouldn’t.”

And yet you do.

Tears stung his lashes. “Then hate me too, Lilion.”

Never you. Only him.

His chest eased, just a little. Exhaustion claimed him. His body sagged, his eyes closed.

The dream returned.

Blood-soaked roses. The phantom looming over him, claiming his very soul and body.

“Amor meus scream for me.” Then the phantom fucked him raw again and again. All Allistair did was just bear the impact and let him violate his body while moaning his name out. The name he didn’t know he would voice out.

“…Samael…” Allistair moaned in sleep.

—

In Casa DelFierro, Samael jolted upright. The whisper wrapped around him like flame.

Lucan roared. He calls to us!

Morgan pressed. Go.

Samael cursed, trembling. “I swore I’d wait.” But his body betrayed him. Shadows and flame swallowed him.

He emerged in the hidden garden.

And there—roses—lay Allistair, whispering his name in sleep.

Samael fell to his knees. His hand trembled as it brushed Allistair’s cheek. “Amor meus… forgive me.”

His lips crashed down. The kiss was fire and hunger, tender and savage. Allistair stirred, gasping. “S-stop…” Yet his body arched, clung.

Samael’s fangs grazed his neck. “You called me. How can I resist?” He bit deep.

Allistair still disoriented didn’t know that he called him.

Samael worshipped his body both of them now naked kissing and licking every part that made Allistair cry out in reckless abandon.

Samael’s kisses arrived down to his thighs licking and biting the flesh until he arrived at Allistair’s ass. He kissed and sucked the round globes and licked his ass.

“Ahhh…stop…dir..ty Ahm Sa..ma..el..nngh.”

Allistair cried out, clutching Samael’s cloak, trembling as roses bent and thorns tore, petals raining crimson. Every pull of blood was possession.

“Mine,” Samael whispered, broken. “Always mine.”

Once Allistair is fully prepared and wet he entered his cock inside and groaned from the tightness and warmth of Allistair’s hole.

“Fuck baby your tight.”

Even Lucan and Morgan inside Samael is groaning from the pleasure.

Allistair screamed in pain and pleasure by the sudden intrusion of a large cock inside him

Tears streaked Allistair’s cheeks. “Why do you keep breaking me? You said you'd wait”

“Because you’re the only one who makes me whole, I'm sorry baby. I just love you too much that I'll go insane.”

Silence, trembling, heavy.

“Let me go,” Allistair whispered.

“If I let go,” Samael breathed against his skin, “I will burn the world to find you again.”

“You destroyed my home,” Allistair choked. “You scarred me. You—” His voice broke. “…and still I can’t stop wanting you.”

Samael’s hands shook as he cupped his face. “Then don’t fight it. Fate has already bound us.”

“We don’t know that,” Allistair whispered.

“The gods?” Samael’s voice cracked. “I don’t need their decree to know my beast is silent when you’re near. That my blood sings. For the first time in centuries, I feel alive. Tell me you don’t feel it too.”

Allistair’s lips parted, but no denial came. Only a shuddering breath.

Samael’s eyes softened, breaking. “Allistair… I love you. Not as king,

but as a man, beast and wolf. The whole me.”

Allistair’s golden eyes brimmed. He whispered, “Why does it feel like I’ve always known you?”

“Amor meus because you’re mine.” Allistair’s eyes grew wide by the endearment he called him and before he could speak out Samael continued to thrust in and out.

He clung to him bearing the impact of the beastly claiming till he can feel himself almost cumming.

“Ahh hah Mi Alfa let me cum hah”

“Fuck baby cum for me.” And they both released at the same  time. Feeling the aftermath Allistair remembered the endearment he used.

Now his head on Samael’s shoulder while their lying down and Samael embracing him on his waist he can’t help but ask.

“Amor meus….Why do you call me that? What does it mean? Where did you learned that word?” Allistair asked nonstop, his heart beating fast of a possibility he can’t never imagine in his entire life.

Samael looked at him

“It’s a Latin word baby, it means “My love” that’s my endearment for you.” Samael replied

“What? Why do…” Allistair stop himself for finishing the words he wants to say  because it’s impossible for the man and Samael to be one. That man is clearly a fallen angel while Samael is an alpha wolf that also has the legendary beast. He can’t be the phantom in his dreams.

“What is it Amor meus? What do you want to say?” Samael asked.

“Nothing. Just Lilione—my wolf and I want to meet your beast and wolf.” Allistair evaded.

Samael can’t help but feel uneasy by his evasion but he will not force him to tell what he does not want to tell. He has forced enough and he doesn’t want to add his sins on him.

Lucan and Morgan can’t help but feel excited of the prospect of talking to their mate. Well technically he’s not confirmed as their mate but they can feel it and they’ve already met but it was not on a good note and they want to apologize too because they wronged him too. As they are one with their human host. The same entity who hurt the person they love.