19: The Prophecy’s Chains

19: The Prophecy’s Chains
 Isabella’s POV 

"He can smell him on me."

I barely made it through the penthouse doors before Luca was there—waiting.

His silver eyes were cold, unforgiving, locked onto me as I stepped inside.

I should’ve felt relief to be home.

But instead, a chill crept up my spine.

Because I knew the second I saw him—

He knew.

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I tried to steady my breath, but my heart pounded like a drum against my ribs.

Luca stood motionless, but the air around him throbbed with danger.

"I went for air," I lied, lifting my chin. "You were asleep."

His jaw tightened.

"Try again," he said quietly.

The softness of his voice terrified me.

I forced myself to move past him, but before I could take another step—

He was behind me.

His hand curled around my throat, not squeezing—just holding.

"You smell like him," Luca murmured against my ear. "You let him touch you."

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"I didn’t—" My words cut off as he spun me around, backing me against the wall.

"You think I don’t know the scent of another man on my woman?" His voice dropped to a dangerous growl.

I shivered, not from fear—but from the dark, possessive heat burning in his gaze.

Luca’s hand slid down my neck, stopping at my pulse point.

"Did he make you tremble like this?" he demanded, his thumb brushing the rapid beat beneath my skin.

I shook my head. "No."

"You let him close." His fingers slipped lower, trailing down my chest, teasing the swell of my breasts through my thin dress.

"Did you want him to touch you, dolcezza?"

I hated how my body responded to the rough edge in his voice—how the heat between my thighs throbbed with need.

But I refused to look away.

"No," I whispered. "I wanted you."

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Claimed by the Monster

The last thread of Luca’s control snapped.

Without a word, he tore the dress from my body, leaving me bare beneath him.

A gasp escaped my lips as the cool air kissed my heated skin—

But nothing was as hot as Luca’s mouth.

He crashed into me—his lips bruising, teeth scraping, as if he wanted to mark every inch of me.

"You want me?" he growled, dragging my thigh over his hip.

His cock pressed against my core, thick and aching, and I whimpered at the friction.

"Then take me," I gasped, daring him to lose control.

His snarl rumbled against my throat as he spun me, pressing my chest against the cold glass of the window.

"You wanted to taste danger?" His hand slid between my thighs, spreading me open for him. "I’ll give you something to remember."

Without warning, he thrust two fingers deep inside me, making me cry out.

"So wet for me," he murmured, curling his fingers, hitting that spot that made my knees weaken.

"You like it when I’m rough, don’t you?" His voice was rough silk, cruel and beautiful.

I nodded, desperate for more. "Yes."

"You’re mine," he growled, dragging the head of his cock along my dripping slit. "Say it."

My body ached for him—my core clenching, desperate to be filled.

"I’m yours," I moaned. "Always."

Luca thrust into me with one brutal stroke, stretching me wide, filling me completely.

I screamed his name, my nails scratching the window as he fucked me relentlessly, claiming me in every way that mattered.

"You let him touch you," Luca hissed against my neck. "But you come for me."

His teeth sank into my shoulder, the sting of pain blurring with the white-hot pleasure as he drove me closer—

And when his fingers found my clit, rubbing tight circles, the pressure snapped.

I shattered around him, my body clenching violently as my orgasm tore through me.

Luca groaned, thrusting harder, deeper—until he followed me over the edge, emptying himself inside me with a possessive growl.

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The Silence After the Storm

For a moment, there was nothing but ragged breathing and the sound of our heartbeats crashing together.

Luca stayed inside me, holding me against the glass as if he was afraid to let go.

And maybe—he was.

His lips brushed my neck, his voice softer, almost… uncertain.

"You’re mine, Isabella," he whispered.

But before I could answer—

Something shifted in the corner of my eye.

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I turned my head toward the reflection in the window.

And what I saw wasn’t me.

My eyes—

They weren’t the soft brown I knew.

They were black, the darkness swallowing the light, inky veins trailing beneath my skin.

I gasped, shaking in Luca’s hold.

"Luca…" My voice trembled. "What’s happening to me?"

He stilled, his grip on my waist tightening.

But he didn’t answer.

Because whatever was inside me—

Even he couldn’t stop it.