The Alpha's Promise ✔️

C H A P T E R 49

The Boy and The Man

"If you don't let your past die, then it won't let you live."

ALESSANDRA ROMANO

When I first saw Zane De Luca, I was five years old. He was seven. Even at such a young age, he carried himself with a swagger that only an alpha could obtain. He looked at me and I looked at him but then we walked past each other.

I saw him again and again because my father was Beta. He was happy all the time. I remember being jealous of his bright smiles and the gleam in his eyes like he was prepared to handle everything.

Then when I was eight years old I watched his smiles die. It was a sad death that led to a stern expression being permanently glued to his face. Sometimes I would pray to the goddess to bring his smile back because even though the boy and I weren't close I missed the smiles he directed at me. I missed the gleam in his eyes. I guess his swagger was something I envied but at least I knew it was obtainable, because Zane De Luca, a boy I knew, walked like the world was at his feet. Until his world erupted in flames.

That's why the sight of him smiling and laughing boisterously with my brother makes my heart happy. He's sitting on one of the four barstools that surround the kitchen island as Ricardo tries to prepare something on the stove.

"I hope you aren't going to burn my house down, Ric," I tell him.

"Not sure if your brain is working right now Alessandra but I'm the best cook out of the Romano siblings."

It might sound like an accomplishment but it's really not. Isabel and I set the standard pretty low.

"I just have other talents that do not involve cooking."

Him and Zane share a look.

"Like that ugly contraption on your couch?"

I look towards the grey couch and see my colorful blanket hanging off the armrest.

"It is not ugly. I made it myself and it looks like the picture I was following!"

It does not look like the picture at all but I will not be sharing that with my older brother.

"You should do everyone a favor and throw it in the dumpster," he mutters into his mug of coffee.

"Excuse me? That's for Nonna!"

His eyebrows nearly shoot into his scalp.

"Cipolletta, you are better off giving her a dead squirrel, that thing is horrendous," he says like I'm a child.

"Don't call me that! Zane tell him the blanket is nice."

"The blanket is nice," Zane says with no conviction.

I frown at them both.

"Whatever Nonna will like it," I grumble. Ricardo opens his mouth, most likely to insult my blanket again, but I beat him to it.

"Zane, no going to the packhouse today. You need to rest."

"Amore, I'm fine," he says.

"No. It's better for you to refuel at home for a bit. I can handle it."

"It's too much."

Zane and I had found our groove when it came to pack work. I stuck with measures of safety, training plans, and keeping our relationship with other packs strong. Zane leaned more towards the financial aspect and disciplinary actions. It is a lot of work to take on by myself but I can't risk Zane stressing himself out too much.