Last to Love

  Last to Love

  A Moonlight Rogues Novel

  By Alexa Whitewolf

  Last to Love

  A Moonlight Rogues Novel

  by Alexa Whitewolf

  Copyright ©2019 Alexa Whitewolf

  Cover design by Y. Nikolova at Ammonia Book Covers

  Kindle First Edition

  This is a work of fiction.

  Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Author’s Note & Acknowledgements

  ∞ ∞ ∞ | ∞ Lupo ∞

  ∞ ∞ ∞ | ∞ Scintilla ∞

  ∞ ∞ ∞ | ∞ Istinto ∞

  ∞ ∞ ∞ | ∞ Seduzione ∞

  ∞ ∞ ∞ | ∞ Morte ∞

  ∞ ∞ ∞ | ∞ Combattere ∞

  ∞ ∞ ∞ | ∞ Testardo ∞

  ∞ ∞ ∞ | ∞ Sopravvivere ∞

  ∞ ∞ ∞ | ∞ Coraggio ∞

  ∞ ∞ ∞ | ∞ Inaspettato ∞

  ∞ ∞ ∞ | ∞ Fratello ∞

  ∞ ∞ ∞ | ∞ Fretta ∞

  ∞ ∞ ∞ | ∞ Tempo ∞

  ∞ ∞ ∞ | ∞ Salvezza ∞

  ∞ ∞ ∞ | ∞ Inferi ∞

  ∞ ∞ ∞ | ∞ Sfide ∞

  ∞ ∞ ∞ | ∞ Mostri ∞

  ∞ ∞ ∞ | ∞ Dolore ∞

  ∞ ∞ ∞ | ∞ Battaglia ∞

  ∞ ∞ ∞ | ∞ Vendetta ∞

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Preview of Tytus’ story, Fanning the Flames (Flaming Rogues, #1) | A Moonlight Rogues Spinoff

  Preview of Declan’s story, Igniting the Ice (Flaming Rogues, #2) | A Moonlight Rogues Spinoff

  Sign up for my ARC team now

  Moonlight Rogues Merch!

  About the Author

  Also by the Author

  Synopsis of Last to Love

  Author’s Note & Acknowledgements

  To my readers: This was a hard book to write. And I mean, wow, did Lucas make it extremely hard! You’ll hear from writers how their characters take over the story and, well, normally I have a pretty good relationship with them and we get along. This time around, it was a bit like butting heads with a very angry, very hot-blooded Italian male. While that sounds fun and sexy, it was anything but haha! And yet... the end result is something I (and I’m sure, Lucas!) are extremely proud of. It wraps up the series nicely with the sense of family, and may still leave you wanting more towards the end – but that’s ok!

  One thing that was extremely hard was tying in Lucas’ special gift to his Italian background. If you haven’t before reading this, I highly, highly recommend you read Moonlight Rogues: Origins, at the very least Lucas’ story in there (it’s the first one!) as it’ll give you a bit of context for his family. And, yes, it hints a little at his gift. Now you’ll notice a mix of Etruscan, Greek and Roman myths in here, and that’s on purpose and not because I was confusing my mythologies :P

  I also want to give huge, huge thanks to my husband. His support during this journey, his shoulder to cry and vent on, has been instrumental to me finishing this series. Even more so since my concussion, and through the post-concussion syndrome recovering that’s still ongoing. My furry brats, Zeus and Achilles, as always provided the best therapy known to man – doggie cuddles!

  Huge, HUGE thanks to my beta and critique partner, Candace Robinson, as well as the ladies who’ve supported the crap out of this series! Amber, Dianne, Donna, Siobhan – enjoy your boy Lucas! Your reviews and kind words have encouraged me time and time again and kept me going, and I appreciate the heck out of you ladies for doing what you do!

  Y. Nikolova at Ammonia Book Covers has delivered time and time again my vision for this series, and this last cover is no exception. A massive thank you there!

  Everyone else who helped with the edits, proofreads, formatting – you guys rock!

  And now... I leave you to the last Rogue ☺

  Happy readings,

  Alexa

  “They think they can control me.

  They think I give a shit.

  I don’t.”

  -Lucas Bianchi-

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  ∞ Lupo ∞

  “For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack.”

  -Rudyard Kipling-

  Lucas

  The sun isn’t even up by the time I finish my workout routine. It’s cold as hell outside, but sweat pours over me as I walk back to my house. I still haven’t replaced the shit Dominic broke. Or, more to the point, the shit we both broke when we were too busy trying to kill each other.

  Even as I shower, the tension in me won’t let go. It hasn’t since Lucrezia was killed, and came back to life. Like a switch has been turned in me, and the only way I can dim it is by killing off any light around me.

  I step out of the hot steam and wrap a towel around my hips. If the bar in town was still open, I’d be heading there tonight for a stiff drink and a good fuck. Rather unfortunately for me, my usual methods of coping won’t be satisfied.

  After Tytus and his damned brother Declan had their showdown, my town was half-ruined by zmeu fire. If dragons are bad, there’s something about Romanian zmei that’s just ruthless on its own. Yet even on the sidelines, trying to help Finn’s mate and my pack survive, I admired the raw power they dispersed. In another world, forse we would’ve been friends. Maybe.

  And maybe I’ll get lucky and Tytus will be out of the picture now. With Declan imprisoned by Ileana – Dominic’s crazy Romanian fairy godmother – nothing should keep him here, leaving me alone with my wolves, their girls and the Reapers. This moment to regroup might make it easier for me to get my pack in hand.

  My duty as their leader is to ensure my wolves can have a good life. And they will. Once we clear the rogue wolves that are out there turning humans and destroying what’s left of this town... Soon as that’s done, they’ll have their happily ever afters. And I’ll get my well-deserved pace and quiet. Since said peace has been lacking nowadays, one can say I’m looking forward to it.

  As I roam around my house, my thoughts shift to Elisandra and Finn. Her newfound powers as the last female descendent of the zmeu race have been tough on her, going so far as to causing a split personality effect. Now that she’s got that handled, all that’s left is learning how to master the magic she was gifted with. If anything, my Irish pack member is well suited to tame her fire, given his faoladh blood and ability to sense everyone’s emotions makes him the mediator in the pack.

  Then I think back to Daniela and Tristan. I’ve admired her gutsiness since she walked into town demanding my protection, running from her crazy-ass brother and the witch who’d been turning all their lobisomem pack into hybrid wolves carrying magia. Daniela’s still recovering from having to go against them and the extermination that then took place... But Tristan, with his own demons, understands it better than most. Their yin-yang duo sometimes adds more fire than it’s worth to the pack, but they also bring strength with their particular gifts.

  And then there’s Lucrezia and Dominic... She used to be human. Now, thanks to Tytus and the protection he afforded her way before me, she’s not. I’m not quite sure what she is, only
that the newfound strength has made her more vocal, and less likely to back down. I miss the times she used to be shy around me, sometimes. But only sometimes. Dominic, on the other hand, constantly tries my patience, and it doesn’t look like he’ll stop anytime soon.

  Ever since my mistake caused Lucrezia’s death, he hasn’t allowed me to get close to her. He’s protective to the point of overwhelming, and I know Lucrezia humors him. She told me to cut him slack because he still wakes up in the middle of the night crying for her. She also said his outbursts are not intended to piss me off, but rather to ensure she never gets hurt again. It’s a hard thing to remember when my wolves are supposed to listen to me...and do anything but.

  While that’s annoying, even I can’t deny Ileana was right. Her presence here started all the romance in the air, despite her constant denials. And, well, it worked for Dominic, Tristan and Finn. I don’t wish the same for me – none of that puppy love and protective shit, I’ve got enough to worry about. But my wolves, their mates are suited to them, and the new dynamic works.

  At least if Dominic quits pushing the limits. Being headstrong is one thing, but calling the vrykolakas – his own pack of crazy hybrid wolves – on my territory was a reckless move. Idiota. One I’ve yet to punish him for...eventually.

  I roll my shoulders, sipping some coffee while watching the sun peak over the horizon. That corded tension inside me is nagging, like it’s waiting for the right catalyst to burst. I’ve never been out of control, and this makes me...uneasy.

  We’ve just wrapped up another fight. I should be over the moon, yet I’m anything but. And this annoying pressure in my chest won’t let up, even as I get dressed and leave the house, driving my pick-up out of the driveway.

  My thoughts flit annoyingly back to Lucrezia. Perhaps because of her red hair, the hue so similar to Mamma’s... I don’t know why, but there was always a connection between us, maybe more nostalgia on my part.

  I always admired her strength, even while keeping my distance. If I had bothered to look past my own arrogance, who knows? Perhaps it could’ve been more. But, I was late to the game and seeing her with Dominic makes it clear there was no one better suited. Still, when I thought she’d died, my world ended all over again.

  And then she wasn’t dead. Another reminder that life is too fleeting, too corta, and I shouldn’t be getting attached.

  Especially not to a female who’s as fragile as they come.

  Only, she’s not anymore. Tytus had made it clear that Lucrezia is his to protect now more than mine. It won’t stop me from watching over her, but realistically she and Dominic have nothing to stay here for. Other than cause problemi, that is.

  My jaw throbs painfully as I grit my teeth a little too hard. I’m gunning the engine hard, the thought of my leadership being put into question enough to spark my fury. It rolls inside me, churning like an angry wave. My knuckles are white on the steering wheel, gripping it so tight I almost feel the cheap material give way. With a muttered curse, I pull over far enough from my shop and walk the rest of the way.

  Anything to clear my head, though it doesn’t work as well as I would like. Instead, my mind drifts off to my wolves again.

  So that makes three. The Romanian witch warned me love was coming for all of us, but I didn’t listen. I should have known better. After all, I grew up with the old learnings from my mama, Francesca. Italian by blood on my father’s side, and Etruscan heritage via Francesca. The old gods, superstitions and all that shit was instilled in me since birth.

  And despite it all, I still didn’t listen. Fighting against Ileana and her machinations is impossible. Because there’s no way I believe my wolves just conveniently started falling in love and rising up against me, one by one, all within months – or weeks – of each other.

  Thoughts of Francesca still make me angry. Angry at my father, at Matteo... And so much more. Angry at myself for being unable to stop the events that took place.

  Matteo’s death. Mamma’s death. A brother and mother, lost in the same night. If I let myself, those images will flash vividly in my mind again. His last breath in my arms. Me burying her body in the backyard of our mansion, on a frosty morning. Helpless to do anything.

  Same as now.

  I reach the run-down building where my shop used to exist, and cringe as I notice the back wall missing. This’ll be fun to rebuild, but at least it’ll give us a purpose until we find the rogue Reapers and get rid of them. Having blood-thirsty wolves in town that are turning every human to ravenous shifter is not a good thing. Especially when they don’t have a leader.

  I’ve fought it long enough, and the lupo mannaro in me is done playing nice. Despite the impact it’ll have on my soul, despite the price I’ll have to pay... It is time to get rid of them, period.

  Stepping inside, I make my way to the back of the shop where my office is hidden. I stop half-way, sensing an odd scent in the air. Cinnamon.

  With a growl, I storm the rest of the way, already breathing heavily. “Che cazzo are you doing here, Ileana? I am tired of your meddling ass.”

  She turns from staring at the mess inside and laughs. “Meddling ass? In all my millennia of existence, I have not heard the like.”

  When I don’t answer, she floats towards me, her sun-filled eyes twinkling. I refuse to look away. “What do you want?”

  “You are the last one standing, proud wolf. Are you not yet done with being alone?”

  “I like being alone.”

  “Hmm. Not for long.” She goes to leave, then turns my way, her tone pleading. “I know what you think about Dominic, and how he has reached the end of the road here. That is not the case. Do not make a decision you will regret.”

  She’s gone before I can throw something after her, and I scream in frustration at the wall. Then I rip my sweater off, toss it in a corner, and start hoisting boulders out of my office. If I clean it up, then maybe I can rebuild the rest.

  ∞ ♦ ∞

  Hours later, I hear a commotion at the front and head out. Dominic is opening the garage, as if getting ready to take customers. “What are you doing?”

  He glances at me, then shrugs, indifferent – uncaring – of the warning in my voice. “Humans need their cars fixed. Most of them are trying to leave town, and considering it’s our fault this shit has befallen them, the least we can do is help them leave. Right?”

  The last is said almost as a side-thought, which alone spikes my blood pressure. “Are you trying to piss me off on purpose, amico?” I ask and stalk over to him, stopping only a few feet away.

  Dominic drops one of the wrenches he’d picked up and straightens himself. “Not everything is about pissing you off, Lucas.”

  “Yeah? Then what do you call letting the vrykolakas on my territory?”

  A flash of anger fills his eyes. “If you think I would’ve stood on the sidelines while we were clearly outnumbered and let Luz be in danger again, you’re sorely mistaken.”

  I scowl at him. “I would have protected her.”

  “Like you did last time?”

  It’s a cheap shot, but it has the intended effect. My arm shoots out and I hit him square in the jaw, sending him tumbling back. It’s odd, given his vârcolac strength overpowers mine, but I don’t stop to question it.

  Instead, I move closer, and Dominic drops the pretense of holding back. He shrugs off his jean jacket and lifts his fists. “Alright, I’ve been cool and collected long enough. Let’s do this.”

  Before he can even approach me, someone calls out, “Stop!”

  Our attention drifts to Lucrezia and Daniela, watching us from the reception area. Tytus is right behind them, the insufferable zmeu. Another problem. Incredible what luck I have.

  I walk away from Dominic, and push past the girls without acknowledging them. Instead, I ask Tytus, “You here to say goodbye?”

  His grey eyes narrow on me, then Dominic, then back to me again. “Yeah, I am.”

  “Good. Don’t let the door hit you
on the way out.” Without looking back, I barge back into my office and the heavy manual labor awaiting me. Too bad there’s no door left to keep everyone out.

  Monica

  They can’t be serious. Alessandro and his crew told me to expect the worst, but this...

  As I stare at what’s left of the building, a shiver of something rakes up my spine. My nonna called it a gift, but it’s practically a curse with the way I’ve used it. And for whom.

  If she hadn’t died of old age, she would have been disappointed in me. Even now, who’s to say she’s not rolling in her grave? After all, our stregheria kind are meant to be practicing white magic, herbs and the like, not...

  Gritting my teeth, I pull the mirror down and reapply my lipstick, then fluff my hair and adjust my clothes. Gotta look the part.

  According to Alessandro Conti, his son always had a weakness for the opposite sex. If I get him back to the family fold by any means necessary, I gain my freedom and can pursue life in another pack with Alessandro’s blessing. Not easy to come by, given the man has no merciful bone in his body. I should know, I’ve worked for him since I was a young girl.

  Some say the old man lost his marbles the night his wife and younger son died. Others say that’s when he was reborn. I’ve only ever known the tyrant. So all the speculation, it’s irrelevant. What is very much relevant is the freedom just out of reach, if only I perform this one last task. And, after all, that’s what matters. No one’s going to look after me, but me.

  I’m my own damn white knight, period.

  I straighten my off-the-shoulders grey velvet sweater, then open the door to the car and make my way inside. My boots’ heavy heels sink into the grimy ground, not that it affects my balance.

  Barely through the door of the dilapidated-looking auto shop, a group catches my eye around the reception area. Three girls – a redhead, a blonde and a brunette – and two guys – one blond and charming, the other with cropped hair, muscles abound and completely aloof.

  The redhead talking stops when she sees me, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Sorry, we’re closed for renovations.”