Page 1 of Claimed By the Werewolf Boss

Chapter on e

Valentino

I shouldn’t linger when my nephew and a few of the boys are waiting for me to kill a rat.

But what can I say? When you’ve been the head of the Benetti Crime Family for twenty-five years, you know not to relax, even at your nonna’s villa in the old country.

There is something in the wind tonight that makes the fur running down my back stand on end.

My claws dig into the damp soil as I sniff the air again.

The peonies are starting to bloom around the tall stone walls, mixing with the climbing roses, but beneath that there is something unfamiliar.

A deep musk that draws me away from the woods where my pack is waiting for me, and instead towards the front gate.

My tail twitches as it gets closer, more defined.

It’s feminine, a little sweaty, and oh so fucking delicious.

Drool forms in the back of my long jaws, dripping down my extended canines.

The wolf part of me wants to track this scent down and claim them right here, right now.

Hunt them, chase them, tackle them into the dirt and fuck my knot into their hole until they are crying for me.

I want to taste them, their blood dripping from my jowls while I mate them.

How pretty will they scream for me when I ruin them?

Arousal, feral and hot, pumps through me uncontrollably until my cock pulses and drips precum onto the ground beneath me.

I wrap a clawed hand around my knot and squeeze the aching flesh. I can’t leave my family waiting for too long, but I can’t ignore this.

Whoever this smell belongs to, belongs to me now.

Nothing will stop me from having whoever this person is, not a spouse, not a partner, not a fucking vow of celibacy will prevent me from claiming them.

I’ve never smelt anyone so divine, who’s had me dropping on all fours to race to them.

My body breaks through branches, my large paws crushing leaves and twigs without care.

The closer I get, the more distinct their scent is. Sweat, weed, powdery deodorant, and bubble gum fill my snout. My heart races as I push harder, desperate to get to this person. The wolf in me wants to howl, announce to the pack and all of Italy that I’ve found a mate at long last.

I skid to a stop as we meet half a mile from the gate entrance.

A gorgeous and dishevelled creature grunts as they tug a large suitcase up the hill.

Their sandals slap against their feet with each step, announcing them to the world.

They huff and puff but keep moving. I stalk them through the tree line.

My cock aches being so close to them, but I can’t just fucking shift and step into the road naked.

I also can’t reveal this part of myself to a stranger.

The secrets of the Benetti pack are for made men and mates.

And if I have my way, this plump little morsel will be mated to me before it’s even time to come home.

I kick a rock into the street. They look over their shoulders quickly, eyes scanning the tree line.

They don’t stop moving, but their breath stutters for a moment.

Their heart rate picks up that little bit more, and I bite back a whimper.

Whoever this is, heading right into my fucking den, has me aching in a way I never have before.

They pull out their phone and shine a light into the trees.

They must see my eyes, the glow of them, how they reflect when they move the torch over me.

My lips pull back in a snarl when they turn it off again, plunging them back into the dark.

They should leave it on, it’s already dangerous to be walking up the road in the dark like this.

What if someone decides they are an easy target? A beautiful being like them with all those round, fat curves on display? I would happily snatch them off the road just to drown in those tits and feel those plush thighs squeeze my hips while I fuck into their hole.

Jesus, I need to get my mate into the villa and get my shit together.

They are a person who deserves my fucking respect, then my nasty fantasies.

Being shifted like this skews my thoughts too much, makes me more of the monster I am.

Like this, I want to breed them, fuck as much of my cum into them until they are ripe with my pups.

Shit, they might not even be able to have kids or want them, but I want to fucking try anyway.

I hope they have a breeding kink.

My mate walks up to the security guard outside of the villa, and I’m already changing.

They better not fucking talk to Dino too long.

I’ll have to fucking kill him. He’s been a good man, a good soldier who wants to be more than a made man one day.

My mate shows him their phone, and he smiles that fucking schoolboy smile of his and lets them through the gate.

The moment it closes, I step out of the trees and prowl up to him. The wild side of me wants to rip his fucking head off with my bare hands for looking at my mate. The rational side of me knows that’s stupid and a waste of a good soldier.

“Hey boss, you alright?” he asks, unfazed by my nudity. You get used to it or you get buried around here.

“Who was that?” I demand.

“Ms Walker? She’s on Junelle’s list for the wedding. She’s the last guest to arrive for the weekend.”

He says it so casually. She’s on Junelle’s list. My mate is so close with my nephew’s fiance she was invited all the way out to our family’s villa for the wedding.

Well, second wedding, the first one was in Jamaica where Junelle’s family is from.

Andrea had asked me two years ago if I would be open to having two ceremonies, as if I would ever say no to Junelle.

That woman is a gift from God. She and Andrea are perfect for each other even beyond the mate bond that werewolves form.

They share something so deep and beautiful that even the heavens weep for them.

Something I used to wish for when I was a young man like Andrea, something I never thought I would have.

Until tonight.

“What’s her file like?” I ask Dino, refocusing on my mate in the here and now, and not the what-ifs of the future.

“Basic, she and Junelle went to college together.”

He hands his tablet over to me, and I thumb through the documents we have on her.

Cheyenne Walker, red hair, brown eyes, five-five, 230 pounds, no restrictions on her driving licence.

She’s freshly turned thirty and a middle school teacher from Tolson with a district-level award for teaching.

No kids, no close family, no partners. She doesn’t even have a single traffic violation under her name.

My mate is downright boring according to this file. She goes to work, she goes home, and sometimes she goes to the art museum.

Fuck is that going to make this difficult. Boring people don’t take risks or date questionable men. They certainly don’t look kindly on mobsters transforming into seven-foot-tall werewolves who like to maim and kill and fuck while they are still covered in blood.

“Should I keep an eye on her, Mr Benetti?” Dino’s question pops me out of a spiralling kidnapping plan that involves tying my girl up and breaking her into a million pieces until she only knows what way is up because I tell her so.

“No,” I bark too quickly. “No, she’s Junelle’s friend, treat her with respect. This is a wedding, ain’t it?”

Dino is definitely not convinced by my reaction, but he’s been around long enough to know to keep his mouth shut.

I say goodbye and transform back into my wolf.

I’ve got shit to do. Being the boss doesn’t allow for distractions like this.

My mate is safe, she’s surrounded by my family, people I trust with my life. I will hunt her down in the morning.

For now, I’ve got a rat to squeeze.

The run should have done me some good. Besides the fact that I could always use some more exercise, finding Cheyenne has clouded all my thoughts.

As I approach the small hunting cabin that hasn’t been used for that purpose in decades, I recentre myself on the task at hand.

I can’t let on to Andrea that I’ve found my mate at his wedding.

This is a big weekend for him. I don’t want to overshadow it.

Outside the cabin, Ugo stands guard outside of our rat cage with a suit bag draped over his shoulders.

I’m not sure how the little human shit stain who runs one of our swimming piers was able to get enough information to have one of our capos locked up stateside, but I’m going to find out.

As an associate, he’s not in the know. He’s not a made man, and he most certainly ain’t a fucking wolf.

Which means we are going to start our little interrogation in human form.

“Hey, boss,” Ugo grins, canines sharper and deadlier. He is my go-to guy for scaring the shit out of people who don’t want to pay up or shut up. He’s a killer through and through, but a loyal enforcer I’d trust with my life.

“How was the drive up?” I make chitchat before I shift down. I’ve got to refocus my wolf on the task at hand before I can turn human again.

There aren’t two fucking wolves inside me.

That is some fucking Grade A bullshit. Werewolves aren’t born, they are made, just like all the people in our little syndicate.

The transformation changes you physically, emotionally, mentally.

It brings out all your traits as a person, but it also adds more beastly ones.

And those new ones sometimes try to run the show.

Like now.

“Fine, ya know how it goes.” Ugo shrugs. “They scream, they fight, they beg. Andrea and Junelle were on the phone the whole drive up, discussing flower arrangements while he fucking cried in the background. I thought she was gonna come out here and rip his fucking throat out herself.”