Romans & histoires Angry Pucca

His fear is fading. "I was angry," he says. "I know. I know you were. I could see it in your eyes. I could feel it in your touch. I could taste it in your kiss. I could hear it in your voice. I could sense it in your presence." "Very angry. More angry than I've ever been. More angry than I knew I could be. More angry than I wanted to be. More angry than I could control. More angry than I could contain." "I know. I could feel it. I could taste it. I could see it. I could hear it. I could sense it."

Chris, caught by surprise, quickly darted to catch up, nearly bumping into me as we reached the corner of the bar, and for the first time giving me a view of the angel sitting just three stools down. “Hey Lucca! Long time no see!” the fresh-faced bartender waved as he strolled over to us, leaning against the bar top lazily. “Awesome to see you man.” He added as he extended his hand for a friendly handshake. I smiled warmly at the barkeep. He was a wolf from a neighboring pack, a Gamma if memory serves correctly.

Ricardo’s POV The recording ends, and I lean back with the glass of whiskey in my hand and my eyes on Angelo. His jaw tightens, then he stands so fast and shouts, “Fuck! That fucking golden prick!” The rage on his face is a pure and beautiful thing to see, why? Because I hardly ever see Angelo get this angry if it’s not over something I caused. “Calm down, brother,” I mutter.

I stare at the banner till my vision blurs. Then my hands quiver as claws rip through my palms, and my bones groan with the shift. I step forward, a balloon squeals and bursts near my feet. And then, I lunge. I tear the banner down with both hands, shred it in two. “FUCK!” Another balloon pops underfoot. Streamers fly across the room, I launch a chair against the wall. My claws rip the edges of the table, it groans as it crashes into the floor, the cake follows after.

The sensation of my heart possibly breaking feels like I'm going to die. Luca stalks back into the bathroom. He looms over me in a pair of loose fitted pyjama pants. Anger flares through his eyes, causing his chest to rise and fall heavily. “Fuck? Si, you went ahead and practically fucked a man in public. I called you a dozen times! Do you know how worried I started to get when your phone kept going straight to voice mail? I……” Banging on his chest with closed fists. “Could've fucked you on a dance floor if it would've pleased you immensely. I. Could. Have. Done. It.” His face turns bright red with anger and his veins pop out on the sides of his neck.

Yet another scar caused by that STUPID, IGNORANT BITCH! Allegra motherfucking Grey!! 8 years! 8 goddamed years I’ve been trying to kill her and somehow fails everytime.She has humiliated me time and time again. The embarrassment it has caused me in my life, that I, Ace De Luca, can’t even kill a little girl, is devastating. I released my anger by punching my reflection in the window next to me. YOU. *punch* WILL. *punch* FUCKING. *punch* DIE. *punch*

I’m just about to take a bite when I hear a loud crash. I look up to see Luca is raging. His pancakes are on the floor. The plate smashed as china shatters over the tiles. “Luca,” I ask, shocked he has a temper, but not normally like this. I walk around to his bench, staring down at him as all the chatter goes quiet. “Clean this mess up,” I demand as his bottom lip juts out. To my surprise, he puffs his chest out.

The sight of his lopsided smirk always did something to me but I hated it right now because there really was nothing to be amused by. "Fucking hell," he said, voice rough with that traveling edge that always got under my skin. "What the hell did I miss?" I didn't answer, just glared at him as my chest grew tighter with fury and...shame, maybe, or the leftover buzz from sucking him off ten minutes ago and clearly getting caught by a bigot. my hands shook as I unclenched and clenched them back, small beads of blood smearing across my fingers. I wiped them on my shirt, leaving red streaks on the fabric. the anger inside me slowly began to thaw replaced by a feeling of sickness as the situation

I awaited for any of them to say something. “What’s the noise all about? Why did you leave me like that, son? We were having an important conversation,” Tata Mama said. “Something came up, Mama. A rogue entered our pack with the intention of harming my mate,” Luca defended. Angelo, with his hands folded, made a move to talk. “Off course, bro. From your attitude, you've bred lots of enemies,” he said, with a smile ridden up his face. Luca snarled, baring his fangs at Angelo.

In fact, his face is even more serious too. "Their time was up. I did what I had to do. Everything should go according to schedule." He gazed at her with apologetic eyes. Ava slams both hands on the table as she stands up. Going over the other side to yank his white shirt. She was breathing heavily out of rage. Her dark brown eyes lit up with bloodlust. Hands and lips trembling as she held him. Swallowing hard before she could compose herself to say a word.