Astolfo Novels & Stories

Craig pleaded, his voice trembling. "Don't lie to me!" Alfonso snapped, slamming his fist onto a nearby table. "I've been searching for you for months, and now, I've finally found you,!" Alfonso said, Craig's heart skipped as he realized the depth of Alfonso's delusion. "I'm sorry, but you've got the wrong person. I have no idea where Collins is." Craig said Alfonso's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. "You can't fool me, Craig. I know Collins is out there, and I won't rest until I find him. You're just a pawn in these twisted game of fate.“ Alfonso said,

I once thought I'd marry him, I loved him, I still do, but I am not in love with him, and he is forever bound to Belle Valentino. I am sitting upright on my bed, staring at his name as it flashes through my screen, repeatedly. Relectantly, I pick it up. "Baby." He says, and I grin, immediately switching it to face time. "Marcello." I laugh. Damain Marcello Mikealson is a very handsome italian man, perfect but weighed by past love and trauma. One of the things we all share is Trauma. "Clementine," He grins childishly. "How is London?"

I didn’t even know the man personally, and yet, here I was, dreading even meeting him. “But there is something that you are going to need to know if you are to be an ally, Donatello.” Alessandro said, looking out the window as the plane touched the ground. My heart raced, and I watched as my mate stood on his feet, hanging up before the door opened. The fact that the pilot didn’t even taxi, and I knew that it was because of the men who were waiting for him. A man entered, the scar on his face was one that made my stomach churn. His tattoos could be seen on his hand, and I raised an eyebrow when Alessandro extended his hand to shake.

“Stephano!” Rose gasped in horror as Azazel came to stand in front of her with his back towards her. She could feel Azazel's shoulders tensing up with rage. Rose looked from the corner of her eyes at Stephano who had held the edge of the island with one hand to support himself from falling after that sudden blow.

If I don’t leave now, I’ll break down completely. "Now you know the bastard you've been fucking." A snarky voice slices through the moment. Bastian stiffens instantly, his muscles tensing like a coiled spring ready to strike. I turn around, already knowing who it is. Alfonso. He looks so much like Bastian, yet, in my eyes, he doesn’t even come close. Where Bastian is intense, overwhelming in the way that makes my knees weak, Alfonso is just... off. "If you’re so desperate for someone to fuck your pretty cunt, maybe I’ll oblige you. You never know, I might be better," he sneers, flashing me a smile that makes my stomach churn with disgust.

“But now, I want nothing more than to cut out your tongue.” My heart hammers into my ribcage. “So, buckets?” Alessandro laughs gruffly. “You’re either fearless or stupid. I reckon both.” His nose touches the spot behind my ear and nausea rises in my gut. “Zefiro has a type, you know. Foreign. Unhinged.” His fingers tangle in my hair and he sniffs in deeply. “Black, silky hair…” Something hard presses against my lower back. “Prostitutes. Hell, the entire Sicily fucked his wife. Must be a kink of some sorts, yes?”

I was angry at myself for kissing Natalie. I was angry at her for kissing back. I was angry at Diego for interrupting us. I stared at the troubled expression on Diego’s face and immediately realised that whatever he was going to say next would only get me more upset. “Alpha Vincenzo has been killed “, he said.

The scent of shock rolled off them like heat. Then Catto’s voice broke the silence. “Impersonation?” Cristo nodded. “Infiltration. Confusion. Disruption from the inside. If they can shake loyalty within your walls, the war is half-won.” Scales cursed under his breath. But I didn’t blink. “Who are they training to play me?” Cristo took a breath. Then he spoke the name: “Il Fantasma. His name is Elias.” An orphan from Sardinia.

Aria: The sound of chains followed me into the hall. The guards didn’t bother to be gentle, they never did. I didn’t expect them to be anyway. The throne room smelled like blood and smoke, thick with the dominance of one man. The man that I found myself dreading most. Alpha Dominic Salvatore. The one and only feared Alpha. The monster they whispered about. The Alpha who burned an entire rogue camp for trespassing. The one my father thought would spare our family if he handed me over like some prize mare.

I had always hated the name of our pack, thinking it was too bland. Atlas Andino emerged from his car, his usual friends in tow. I knew them all by name, noting how their styles of bullying differed. Atlas Andino, with his pale blonde hair and startling grey eyes. Shaina Adam's with her espresso skin and gorgeous sneer. Michelle Cario, with her long legs and thick accent. Duke Kentworth, with his football jersey and messy black hair. Dean Marsh, with his curly chocolate hair and sly smile.