Arlecchino Novels & Stories

If I would have been that you were going to find your mate at the graduation I never would have made a deal with him. Just exactly who is this Alpha in Italy? I ask him. His name is Alpha Valentino Marelli and he is one of the most fearsome and ruthless Alpha's there is. He even scares the living daylights out of me. Do you mean to tell me that some Alpha from Italy who we haven't heard of scares you? I said to my father. Yes, he does scare me, he kind of sounds like he's from the Italian Mafia too.

And the color of my skin never hides when I blush so it's always hard. "What's your name?" Now he stood right beside me leaning on the basin and looking down at me. Okay, how the hell was he this tall? I looked like a minor in front of him. This was so unfair. And not to forget his deep baritone voice. It was so smooth just like butter. Ew Arabella really? "Arabella" I replied. He hummed before folding his hands and damn I almost swooned. I accidentally glanced at the tattoo on the back of his left shoulder. It had wings and it between were two initials.

I asked. “Yes,” He said with a nod. We were busy having fun when we heard the alarm, I went to open the door when I opened it, I met Celeta in front of me, she pushed me in and sat down on the sofa with me. “Archer, how could you lie to me? Hola is not from this pack but from Blood Crest Pack, he is even Gebe’s daughter” She said with a frown. Adrian and I both exchange glances and I whisper to

“You know, Alaric would have said no to all of this. He’d buy a vineyard, plant a few hundred olive trees, and call it a day.” I turned to her, curious. “He still in Tuscany?” “Yeah,” Phoenix replied, exhaling slowly. “Last I heard, he’s still holed up in that ridiculous villa. Probably busy with some nameless actress.” Alaric Saavedra. The name alone held weight. Not just because he was a Saavedra — which in itself was enough to shake boardrooms — but because Alaric was… sharp. He wasn’t like Phoenix, not even close. Where Phoenix was color and chaos, Alaric was black and steel. Where she teased and laughed and rolled her eyes at everything, Alaric observed, calculated, and chose his words

The guy nods and my heart starts hammering, that sounds fucking incredible, way better than three million, actually, "Oh wow. We have a deal, then. Just... retract your werewolf people and stop being so obvious about this trap you're setting, Leo hasn't left my house in days. Take down the billboard, too.” "Hm, alright," he says as he thinks about it, "What's your name, by the way?" "Jolene," I say, he waits, "Jolene Duvarak." "Well, I'm King Archibaldo Garibaldi," he says. Another godawful name, "But you can call me Archie. Don't mention me to Leo, though, he's currently going through the angsty teen phase, he was a VERY late bloomer."

She stumbled away from the Alaric to the side of the door, creating enough space between them and bowing her head. ‘Please let him not punish anyone because of that,’ she thought, fiddling with her fingers. “I’m Jonas Richardson, the owner of this home. Welcome to my humble abode, my Lord and Lady.” Jonas grinned, bowing so deeply that his back almost broke. Even the blind could see the childlike excitement glowing off of him. ‘My Lord and Lady?’ Layla cringed at the obvious display of bootlicking but kept her lips shut. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Alaric D’Arcy and this is Terra Geode.”

_Alina's POV_ Alaric's presence was so commanding that it instantly transformed the atmosphere inside the silk shop. His gaze was as sharp as an eagle's, pinning the shopkeeper in place and making him visibly nervous. The shopkeeper, clearly startled by the prince's arrival, hurriedly asked Alaric what he needed. Upon seeing Alaric, Elena's expression swiftly changed, surprising me with her quick reaction. She immediately prepared to approach Alaric to greet him.

It was enough to feed three families, yet one man sat alone at the corner of the table, devouring everything that he could lay his hands on. The chewing sound he made with his mouth as he ate could be heard from the other end of the table, and it was a long table. “Orego”, Vincenzo called as soon as we stepped in. The man stopped eating and looked up. I couldn't see him because of how far we were from where he stood, but I could make out his figure as he stood up. He pushed the chair and it scraped on the floor noisily. “Alpha Vincenzo!”, he said cheerfully.

His reflection glinted off the glass, he looked cool, with an unreadable expression, which was kind of annoyingly beautiful. “I bet you’re impressed now,” I said, stopping beside him. “Turns out your little stray is the queen of fashion.” He didn’t even blink. “Cool.” “Cool?” He glanced sideways. “Want a medal?” “Excuse me?” “You rich?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s cute. I’m Arlo. I’m not just loaded, I’m generationally, internationally untouchable.” I scoffed. “You’re just a werewolf prince.”

Kael wore ceremonial black, his chest bare, tattoos pulsing with heat. The Elders sat in a half-circle, silent and watchful. “Do you, Kael Stormborn, claim Luna of House Elara, not just as mate, but as Alpha equal—body, soul, and blood?” “I do,” Kael said, voice echoing like thunder. “And do you, Luna Elara, accept Kael not just as mate, but as your Alpha, your flame, and your final tether?” “I do,” Luna replied, her voice sure, unwavering.