Raphael (The Immortal Youth Book 1) (10 page)

She.

Mine.

I.

Hers.

Forever.

Together.

Wolf’s thoughts echoed loud and clear inside Raphael’s mind, making him gasp as Luisa’s eyes widened.

“I can see your wolf,” she said.

“As I can see yours.” As Raphael mused on the meaning of that, Wolf pounced on the she-wolf, sending her sprawling onto the dewy grass. Growling, she playfully nipped at him.

A sudden frenzy possessed both Raphael and Luisa, and he accompanied her down to the mattress. One look at her reminded him of how small and frail she was and that he must be gentle. As he balanced his weight on his cast arm not to squash her under him, he lowered himself over her trembling body. All his body hurt, but he could only think of claiming Luisa as his soul mate.

“Raphael…” Luisa’s eyes mirrored the hunger consuming Raphael. “I love you.”

His heart stopped beating and his lungs stopped pumping air. Time paused. As he finally exhaled, reality became a blur.

“Together,” he said.

“Forever,” she said.

“Only you and me in the universe.” Covering her like a blanket, he let their bodies touch and pushed away the pain from his chest, from his broken arm, from all the blows received in the morning. Nothing mattered. Only Luisa.

“Only you and me in the universe,” she repeated, tears in her eyes and lips half-open.

His mouth took possession of hers, and a kiss that started sweet soon transformed into something all-encompassing. “I need you.”

“I want you.” She started pulling down the strings of her bra, revealing more bruises as the fabric fell to the side. A bluish handprint covered the top of her breast. When she saw him staring at the spot, she stopped and brought her hand up to cover the mark. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s fresh,” he croaked.

“This morning, Rico didn’t like I was wearing a big sweater over the slip and tore it out.” With a wave of her hand, she tried to dismiss the argument.

Anger possessed Raphael once again. Coupling with powerlessness, the feeling made him stand and propelled him out of the bed. Only the anguished look on Luisa’s face had the power to stop him from exiting that room, looking for a fight with his big brother.

“I will kill him.” Panting, he repeatedly punched the door with his good hand. “No one hurts you.” His wolf roared. “No one touches you.” Rivulets of blood fell between his knuckles, but he drove his fist through the wooden surface again and again until it splintered. “No one even looks at you with the idea of harming you.” Nausea and pain overtook him, and he paused the pounding only to realize that slender arms were hugging his legs.

“Please, stop—” she whispered among sobs. “You’re scaring me.”

As if a bucket of icy water had been dumped on him, Raphael shivered and his rage dimmed. “I’m sorry.” The sight of Luisa crying at his feet sickened him as much as the bruises covering her body. “Don’t be scared of me, baby.” With a heavy sigh, he reached down to help her up, and blood trickled on her head and shoulders. Trying to clean his mess made it worse as he smeared it everywhere. “I can’t bear to see all those bruises on you—”

Eyes on the floor, she shied away from him. “I understand if I repulse you—”

A different kind of pain lacerated his already wounded heart. “Look at me.”

“It’s okay.”

After he took care of cleaning his hand by wiping it on his thigh, he placed a finger under her chin and raised her face until she had to look at him. Then he passed his thumb over her jaw. “You are my mate. The thought that someone laid a hand on you and hurt you drives me crazy with grief. It’s my job to protect you, and I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I should’ve found you earlier. I—”

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters.” Tilting her head she leaned against his hand and closed her eyes. “Just you and me. I don’t need anything else.”

At the end of his endurance for the day, Raphael pulled her closer with his cast arm and bumped her forehead with his. “Let’s clean you up from my gore, then we’ll rest a bit. What do you think?”

Silently, she took his hand in hers and walked toward the bathroom, there she entered the shower stall. “Are you coming?” she asked, gently pulling him in.

Raising his cast, he gave her a small smile and released her hand. “Another time.” The truth was, he feared he would make her his mate if they entered the shower together. When the time was right, he would help her escape for good. Then and only then, away from the tyranny of the Reds, and in a safe place, he would give her the fairy tale night she deserved. She would have the bed of roses and the sweet words. But not tonight. Not when she only knew violence.

The morning after, Raphael woke alone and with a start. Where Luisa should have been, rightfully beside him, he found an indent on the mattress that was still warm. His new leather jacket with the patch sewn on its front had been folded, and placed at the foot of the bed, along with a note scribbled on a piece of paper. Neat and feminine handwriting had penned a message that sped Raphael’s heartbeat to an instant gallop.

I love you. L.

Upset he had not heard her leave, he hurried to the door, only to be reminded he wasn’t wearing anything when he entered the hallway and someone joked, “Naked run is next month.” The whole floor had almost had a glimpse of his bare back.

Luisa saw it when he was sleeping.

With a low curse and a kick, he closed the door of his bedroom behind him, and searched the place for something to wear—his bloodied tunic had disappeared—and found his clothes had been stored in the built-in closet. Without bothering with a shirt, he grabbed a pair of pants and donned the jacket, inserting only his good arm. Keeping the garment in place over his other shoulder proved futile, and he maintained it there by gingerly crossing his good arm over his naked chest. The skin around the tattoo was puffed, red, and sore to the touch, and he felt feverish.

As soon as he was out of his room, other Reds stopped him to either congratulate him or ask about his night.

“Thanks.”

“Great.”

“Sure.”

“Okay.”

Raphael absentmindedly answered all of them while striding toward the stairs.

“Where do you think you’re going?” One of Tancredi’s guards looked down at Raphael when he tried to pass him on his way to the fourth floor landing.

“To the harem?” Raphael commanded his shoulders to relax.

“Looking for some morning sport with one of the girls, champion?” The man winked and slapped Raphael’s on his shoulder. “Have you not had enough already?”

With a shrug, Raphael said, “It’s never enough.”

“Aren’t you a stud?” Among laughter, the man picked a cell phone from his pocket. “I’ll call your big brother—”

“Rico? Why?”

“Rules, pup.”

Cold sweat trickled down Raphael’s back. “What rules?”

“A little brother only has access to the harem if his big brother chaperones him.” The guard gave him a soft smile as if he were talking to a child.

One hand raised, Raphael shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay. Don’t disturb Rico.” He made a show to sniff his armpit. “I need a shower first in any case.” With his chest heaving and his stomach clenched in painful spasms, he about-faced and returned to his room.

There, in shocked stupor, he slid down to the floor and stared at the opposite wall for some time, before letting bitter tears wet his face. Despite having done everything in his power to be reunited with Luisa, she still was out of his reach. One floor up and a whole universe of rules away.

Loud and repeated knocks on the door roused Raphael from his misery.

“Little brother, you’ve work to do.” Rico’s voice was as obnoxious as his manners.

Another volley of knocks followed, and Raphael forced himself up, remembered to hide Luisa’s note at the last moment, then opened the door before the werewolf would tear it down.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Taking in Raphael’s disheveled appearance, Rico gave him a raised eyebrow. “You better pull yourself together.”

Raphael made a noncommittal sound in response.

“First day of training.” Rico stood to his full height, a good head taller than Raphael. “And you’re lucky because you’ll be sparring with me from now on.”

“I’ve got a broken arm.” Raphael raised his shoulder to put the cast at Rico’s chest level.

The werewolf swatted the cast away. “That’s nothing. You can still impart plenty of damage with your good one, your two legs, head, and teeth. You’ll see.” With his arm extended, Rico accompanied Raphael into the hallway. “Besides, you should be earning your stay, but Tancredi got a soft spot for you and said you should rest.” Jealousy was thick in his words.

“So, I’ll train instead.” Somehow, the idea wasn’t that appealing to Raphael, who couldn’t remember when he had eaten last and had a huge headache. He was also sweating one moment and shivering the next.

“You’ll train under the best, mind you.” With a rough hand placed on Raphael’s back, Rico pushed him forward, greeting people along the way.

At the stairway, the werewolf headed down passing the second and first floor landings, and continued to the first level underground where the gym was located. As a recruit, Raphael had not been granted permission to use the facility that was reserved only for patched members. But he had been ordered to clean after them, those few times his delivery schedule had left him a few hours to spare.

The gymnasium was big, squeaky clean, well-lit despite being windowless, and equipped with state of the art machines lining the walls. The ceiling was high enough to allow for a running strip, which jutted from the walls and followed the perimeter of the room. Rumor had it that sometimes Reds dared each other to run their bikes on the suspended walkaway. Raphael had also heard recruits talking about cage matches, and the presence of a large box-like cage made of metal bars and covered in metal mesh proved at least the second rumor to be real.

At the moment, the gym was quiet. Several people milled around, some of them exercising, others running, a few sparring by the corner. But the moment Rico and Raphael put foot on the hardwood floor, every head spun in their direction.

“Before we start, there’s only one rule you should know, don’t let your wolf fully out. That’s a big no, and you’re disqualified if you do. Only cowards let their wolves fight for them. Anything else, go for it… if you can,” Rico said, and Raphael had the feeling he had talked more for the people around them than for Raphael’s sake. As if Rico was acting the big brother for the audience.

“I’ll keep my wolf tucked in. Don’t you worry, I don’t need extra help to beat you.”

Raphael’s answer amused Rico who made a scene laughing until he doubled over.

Ambling toward the roped ring at the center, the Red nodded to the ones who greeted him. “I heard you were looking to blow some steam this morning.” He stretched his neck with loud cracks. “That small bitch didn’t satisfy you, ah?”

Fighting the urge to swing his cast and hit the werewolf on his face, Raphael stilled his arms by the side and counted to ten, but it didn’t work. Breathing in and out didn’t help either. Only thinking of Rico’s mouth smashed by several blows did the trick. “She did all right.”

With his head canted and a cold look in his eyes, Rico pointed at the ring. “Remove the jacket and let’s work up a sweat.”

If a moment earlier a few strands of conversations were still audible, after Rico’s invitation the room fell into an unsettling silence.

Refusing to remove his jacket, Raphael lowered his hand and left his tattoo uncovered. The leather garment stayed over his shoulders for the moment, but he knew he would have to let it go soon. He was aware that every set of eyes in the room was trained on him, on the wolf inked in blood and poison. A flush of heat reached his face, and he wiped his forehead.

Rico too couldn’t help a glance to Raphael’s fresh tattoo. His expression, already unpleasant, darkened, and he stepped backward until he touched the rope with his legs. “Why her?”

The non sequitur hit Raphael like a punch to his chest. Barely breathing, he didn’t dare lower his gaze and show fear to the Red, but he could recognize a threat when he heard one, and his thoughts went to Luisa. Where was she? Was she safe? Had Rico done something to her?

The temperature in the gym rose, leaving Raphael lightheaded. “I don’t know—” He closed his hand into a tight fist. “She looked easy.” Forcing out of his mouth those words left him nauseous, but he had to protect Luisa by denying how important she was to him.

Rico seemed to think about it, then nodded with another of his sickening smiles. “She does look easy, doesn’t she?” Without looking behind, but with his eyes never leaving Raphael, he cleared the rope one leg at a time. “Maybe she’s easy because she knows she’s ugly.” He removed his jacket and balanced it on the rope. Then he tugged his white shirt from his jeans, and doffed it by opening the buttons on his throat and wrists, and finally pulling it off his head. “When Tancredi gave her to me she was passable, but I tired of her soon enough. Too small, too slim, nothing interesting about her. I heard she stopped eating and started cutting herself when I didn’t want her anymore. Tragic really.”

Soul-consuming rage made Raphael sway, the urge to free his wolf and let him bite Rico’s jugular so overpowering he stepped inside the ring without thinking. The man’s throat called to him as ancient memories of his twelfth birthday resurfaced to haunt Raphael in vivid details.

“You worthless piece of shit. You won’t ever amount to anything in your life. You are pathetic.” Making sure to have the brass buckle loose at the end of the belt, his father raised the leather over his head, then swung his arm to hit Raphael.

Like he had done so many times before.

This time, Raphael’s fangs lowered and a low growl escaped his mouth. “No.” Uncurling from the fetal position he always ended up when his father beat him, he stood.

“What are you saying?” His father looked shocked, and that pleased Raphael immensely.

But it wasn’t enough.

A surge of power he had never experienced before filled Raphael. His wolf, who had only shown glimpses of himself now and then, overtook him, making him attack his father. In a blink, Raphael pushed his father away with such strength he broke the table behind him at the impact. The next moment, he found himself staring at the blood gushing out from under his father’s head.

“Are you okay, little brother?”

Rico’s face overlapped his father’s, his voice echoing in Raphael’s ears as he moved around the ring. “You look funny.”

Two Ricos danced before Raphael and he lunged toward the one on his left, only to fall flat on the mat. Voices sounded all around him, at the same time too loud and just a whisper, then the whole room spun around him.

“Take him to the infirmary,” someone ordered, not Rico.

Arms grabbed him, enhancing the pain engulfing his whole body with their rough handling.

A heartbeat later, the bearded face of Guts, the tattooist, appeared in his line of sight. “I’ll give you something to make you sleep, okay?” He then asked, “Didn’t you see he was shivering?”

“I thought he was tougher than that. He got the wolf in one setting after all,” Rico answered and that was all Raphael heard before blacking out.

When he woke in the infirmary, Raphael found a visitor. “Hi, Rock.”

“Hey, pup.” The man was sitting on a swiveling stool a few meters away from Raphael’s bed, and pushed it closer. “How do you feel?”

“Never better.” His good arm was pricked in two points by needles connected to two bags hanging from a trestle jutting from the wall.

Rock scoffed. “Drop the act, will you?”

“I feel like crap, happy now?” In answering, he moved around, and his cast arm hit the bed rail with a clang sound that reverberated inside his skull.

“As you should. When they brought you here, you were running a fever so high you convulsed. Guts pumped you with painkillers and antibiotics.” Rock folded his arms across his chest. “Guts and Rico should’ve known better than let you get the tattoo all at once. You probably had an allergic reaction to the vitriol. Or whatever.” He waved his hand before him. “In any case, the stress alone from the kind of day you had yesterday would’ve been enough to knock down a much stronger guy than you.” With a raised brow and a smile, he let out a chuckle. “You’re one tough pup.”

“So I’ve been told.” Wanting nothing more than to ask about Luisa, Raphael turned to the side and away from Rock.

Rock swiveled even closer and placed a hand over Raphael’s shoulder. “I don’t know what your game is, but you must be careful, pup.”

Raphael’s comeback was immediate. “Got no game.” Depressing as it was, he had told the truth.

“Still. Rico is not someone you want to trifle with.” Rock squeezed his hand for a moment, then released his hold, pushed the stool away and stood. “I’ll come back later to check on you.”