I segreti della sentinella

Chapter One

As night fell, the cold moon hung high in the sky. The bright moonlight fell on the ancient castle on the edge of the city, casting a mysterious silver veil around it. Emily stood on the balcony, looking at the forest in the distance, and felt a chill rising from the bottom of her heart. Since moving to this castle, her life has become bizarre and mysterious.
The cold wind in October swept across her bare shoulders, bringing a shudder. Emily subconsciously wrapped her woolen shawl tightly around her, but she couldn't feel any warmth. This castle seems to be always cold, just like its mysterious owner Lucas Black, exuding an inaccessible atmosphere.
"Miss Emily," suddenly, a low voice sounded behind her, "You'll catch a cold if you're still outside so late."
She turned around and saw Lucas standing at the balcony door. The moonlight outlined his tall figure. He was wearing a dark silk shirt, and the collar vaguely revealed his strong chest. The amber eyes flickered strangely in the darkness, as if they could see through her soul.
"Mr. Black," Emily whispered, trying to hide the trembling in her voice, "I'm just admiring the moonlight."
Lucas took a step forward, but suddenly stopped. Emily noticed that his body stiffened instantly, and his nostrils fluttered slightly, as if he was sniffing something. His expression became solemn, and a glimmer of wildness flashed in his eyes, but was quickly suppressed.
"Please go in," his voice was hoarser than usual, "It's not safe here."
Just then, a cold night breeze swept across the balcony, bringing a faint smell of rust. Emily saw that Lucas's fingers were almost pinched into the stone railing, and his knuckles were white. She couldn't help but take a step back, her heartbeat accelerated.
"I thought this castle was the safest place," she whispered, "after all, you are here."
Lucas let out an almost inaudible growl, "Some danger, Miss Emily, is much closer than you think." His eyes looked unusually sharp in the moonlight, "especially on a full moon night."
Suddenly, a wolf howl came from the distant forest, shrill and long. Emily was surprised to find that Lucas' pupils shrank in an instant and turned into vertical pupils like a beast, but the fleeting change made her wonder if it was just an illusion caused by the moonlight.
Just then, a cold breath passed by her from behind, accompanied by a chuckle. Emily turned around and saw only a dark shadow flashing in the corner of the balcony. When she looked back again, Lucas had come to her side, with a hand gently on her shoulder.
"I'll take you back to your room," he said, with an unquestionable commanding tone in his voice. Emily noticed that his palms were surprisingly hot, in sharp contrast to the chill of the castle.
Walking in the dark corridor of the castle, Emily could feel Lucas' presence, he walked behind her like a silent guardian. Moonlight poured in through the Gothic stained glass windows, casting mottled shadows on the floor.
"Good night, Miss Emily," Lucas whispered in front of her door, "Remember, no matter what sound you hear, don't leave the room tonight."
"Why?" Emily asked subconsciously.
Lucas was silent for a moment, his eyes looked deep and dangerous in the moonlight, "Because the moonlight tonight is too beautiful, it will always wake up something that shouldn't wake up."
When the door closed behind her, Emily leaned against the door, her heartbeat still alarmingly fast. She could hear Lucas's footsteps gradually fading away, but she seemed to hear the sound of wings flapping outside the window. She walked to the window and looked out through the glass.
In the moonlit courtyard, she saw a figure standing by the fountain. The man looked up at her window, and the moonlight illuminated his pale marble face - it was Draco, with a mysterious smile on his lips and a dangerous light in his eyes. When Emily blinked, his figure had disappeared, as if he had never appeared. Emily lay trembling on the bed, listening to the wolf howling outside the window. She knew that she had fallen into a world full of dangers, and this was just the beginning. On this moonlit night, her fate was closely linked to two mysterious and dangerous beings, and there was no turning back.

Chapter Two

In the dead of night, Emily lay in bed, the faces of Lucas and Draco appeared in her mind. She could not resist the deep attraction, but she also knew that she was caught in a dangerous vortex. She knew that the confrontation between the two men was a life-and-death hostility, and she was just a pawn in their war. A corner of her heart reminded her to escape, but the deeper desire pulled her to stay in this mysterious castle, looking forward to the unknown encounter.

        Just as she was about to fall asleep, a slight knock on the window interrupted the silence. Emily opened her eyes, and the moonlight poured into the room through the curtains, making the corners of the room particularly dark. She sat up subconsciously, trembling slightly and walked to the window. When she opened the curtains, a figure was standing in front of her, cold and elegant.

        It was Draco.

        "Sorry, I scared you, Emily." His low voice was frivolous and indifferent, as if every word revealed his unfathomable darkness. His eyes were like two flames in the abyss, locking onto her with an irresistible force.

        "How... are you here?" Emily's heartbeat quickened, and her hands unconsciously clenched a corner of the curtain. She knew she should be scared at this moment, but Draco's unique charm made it hard for her to resist.

        Draco did not answer her question, but slowly approached, lowered his head and whispered in her ear: "You know why I'm here, Emily. You've never really been afraid of me, right?"

        The moment he approached, she smelled the cold breath on him, as if it came from the night a thousand years ago. Her breathing gradually became rapid, but she did not retreat, but was locked by his eyes, as if her soul was also attracted to him.

        "Draco... we can't do this." Her voice was weak, but she did not retreat at all, as if even she herself was struggling with contradictions.

        "You don't belong here at all, Emily. Staying here will only put you in deeper danger." Draco gently lifted her chin, with a smile on the corner of his cold mouth, that smile was both gentle and dangerous, "But if you want to know the real darkness, then come. I will take you to see everything."

        At this moment, the door was pushed open, and Lucas' figure appeared at the door like a shadow. His face was gloomy, and his eyes were burning with anger. It was his possessiveness and anger that he could not hide. He walked towards Draco step by step, his hands clenched, his muscles tensed, as if he was going to pounce on and tear the enemy in front of him in the next second.

        "Draco, let her go." Lucas' voice was low and threatening, like an enraged beast. It was the first time Emily saw him so out of control, his eyes were like a ball of unextinguishable fire, revealing uncontrollable anger and possessiveness.

        Draco smiled slightly, released Emily's chin, and looked at Lucas provocatively. "Don't you understand yet? She doesn't belong to you. The savagery of the wolf tribe is nothing but a bondage to her, and I can give her true freedom."

        "The 'freedom' you mentioned will only make her fall into darkness. You don't understand what true protection is." Lucas sneered, his eyes as sharp as an eagle. He slowly stepped forward, blocked Emily, and protected her behind him. That was his attitude as the wolf king, firm and unshakable.

        Emily was sandwiched between the two, feeling her heartbeat speed up, as if breathing became difficult. These two completely different forces intertwined and collided in front of her, making it impossible for her to decide which side to choose.

        Draco raised the corners of his mouth and slowly took a step back, his eyes still on Emily. "Emily, one day you will find that he can't satisfy the desire in your heart. And I am your true home."

        As soon as the voice fell, Draco's figure disappeared into the night, as if he had never appeared.

        Lucas looked at the empty room, his fists gradually loosened, but the anger and worry in his eyes remained. He turned around and looked at Emily softly, but his eyes still flashed with contradictions and forbearance.

        "Are you okay?" He asked in a low voice, with a trace of undisguised concern in his voice.

        Emily nodded, but her heart was in turmoil and it was difficult to calm down. She knew that she had fallen too deep. She could not let go of these two men easily, nor could she easily resist them. A complex emotion surged in her heart, which was a dangerous and fatal attraction.

        "Lucas, I..." She wanted to say something, but lost her words when she met his eyes.

        "Don't get close to him." Lucas' voice was low, with a hint of pleading and warning, "I know you feel confused, but Draco is not what you think. He will only drag you into the darkness, and I won't let him hurt you."

        Emily just looked at him silently, and a touch of uncertainty gradually rose in her heart. She knew that this was not just a war, but a contest of feelings and desires. In this dangerous triangle relationship, she has gone too far and can never turn back.

Chapter Three

Emily stayed awake all night. The wind outside the window blew through the woods, making a low moan, as if the whole castle was whispering in her ear. She curled up in bed, recalling Draco's cold smile and Lucas's deep eyes. Two completely different attractions stirred in her heart, making her lost on the edge of danger and desire.

        When the sky was slightly bright, she made a decision. She had to figure out what she wanted, the wildness and protection of the wolf tribe, or the mystery and temptation of the vampire. She got up and walked out of the room, walked through the deserted corridor, and came to the door of Lucas's study.

        The door of the study was slightly open, and a whisper came from inside. Emily stood outside the door and pricked up her ears to listen.

        "She is innocent, Lucas." A low and gentle female voice came from Lucas's sister, Leila. Emily had heard rumors about her. Leila was the wisest prophet in the wolf tribe and could always see fragments of the future.

        "I know, Leila." Lucas' voice was hoarse, as if he had struggled all night, "but I can't control myself, I can't suppress my desire for her. I'm afraid that if she stays with me, she will only be swallowed by my darkness."

        Emily's heart trembled, and she raised her hand to push open the door.

        "Lucas." Her voice was abrupt and firm in the silent room.

        The two turned around and saw her standing at the door with a hint of determination in her eyes. She walked slowly towards Lucas, looked up at him, with a hint of determination and inquiry in her eyes.

        "I know you protect me, but I'm not a fragile child." Her voice was calm and firm, "I need to know the truth. Why are you always so hesitant? And why is Draco so persistent in approaching me?"

        Lucas' expression froze for a moment, his eyes wandering on her face, as if he was weighing whether to tell her everything. Finally, he took a deep breath, as if he had made up his mind.

        "Emily, the fate of our werewolves is usually determined at birth. The wolf tribe has a unique ability to perceive its partner. When we find that person, we will feel an attraction that cannot be ignored... and you are my destined partner." Lucas spoke in a low voice, with pain and desire flashing in his eyes.

        Emily's heartbeat accelerated, and thousands of emotions surged in her mind, both shocked and confused. She never thought that she would become his destined partner, and his possessiveness and protectiveness of her turned out to come from this ancient bond.

        She asked softly: "What about Draco? Why is he so obsessed with me?"

        Lucas's eyes became more gloomy, and there was a hint of anger in his eyes. "Draco's tribe never believed in fate. They prefer to dominate their own future. And he believes that as long as he possesses you, he can destroy me and the traditional beliefs of the wolf tribe. So, he is not sincere to you, but to weaken my power."

        Emily's heart suddenly tightened, and a hint of anger and loss surged in her eyes. However, she also felt a little unwilling, as if she was just a tool in this struggle, being fought over and torn by the two, and she had no right to control herself.

        "So, Lucas, are you sincere? Is it just fate for me?" There was a hint of disappointment in her voice, and her eyes became cold.

        Lucas was stunned, as if he was hurt by her question. He was silent for a moment before speaking: "Emily, I can't deny the existence of fate, but I can't ignore my feelings for you." He gently held her hand, his eyes full of affection and desire, "Whether it is fate or something else, I am willing to give up everything for you."

        Just then, a slight sound came from outside the window. Emily turned back suddenly and saw a pair of dark red eyes flashing outside the window, like a flame in the dark, and the familiar cold breath startled her heart.

        It was Draco.

        He stood outside the window, sneering at them, as if everything was under his control. He knocked on the window lightly, his voice cold and full of provocation: "I don't think it's possible to talk about 'betraying' everything here, Lucas. You can't protect her because she will eventually come to me."

        Lucas' eyes immediately became cold and dangerous. He stood in front of Emily, glared at Draco outside the window, and growled in a low voice: "Stay away from her, Draco. You can't force her to choose darkness."

        Draco smiled slightly, his eyes full of evil confidence. He raised his eyebrows at Emily, as if everything was under his control. "Dear Emily, you will find that the bright world cannot satisfy your desire. And darkness - is your destination." After he finished speaking, his figure instantly disappeared into the night.

        The room returned to silence, but the air was filled with tension and uneasiness. Emily looked at the empty darkness outside the window, feeling both fear and desire in her heart. She could no longer deny Draco's attraction to her, and the danger and mystery made her heart beat faster.

        Lucas noticed her hesitation, and a trace of pain and uneasiness flashed in his eyes. He gently held her hand and whispered, "Emily, don't get close to him. His darkness will devour you and make you lost in the endless night."

        She didn't respond, but just looked at him silently, her heart full of complicated emotions. She knew that she could no longer simply withdraw from the two of them. Her fate had been drawn into an uncontrollable vortex, and the only thing she could do was to follow her heart and touch the unknown darkness.

Chapter Four

As autumn deepened, the forest surrounding the castle donned a cloak of gold and crimson. Yet Emily felt none of the season's warmth. Since that night's revelation, her mind had been in constant turmoil, with Lucas's truth and Draco's temptation intertwining like two serpents in her thoughts, leaving her breathless.

        That evening, Emily found herself alone in the castle's library, searching through ancient tomes for any mention of werewolves and vampires. As she focused on a yellowed manuscript, the air suddenly turned cold. Looking up, she found Draco standing across from her, his appearance as silent as shadow.

        "Seeking truth, my dear Emily?" Draco leaned elegantly against the bookshelf, wearing a deep purple silk shirt that made his skin appear even paler. "But you know, written accounts are often one-sided."

        Emily instinctively stepped back. "Why do you always appear like this? It's unsettling."

        Draco chuckled softly, moving toward her with fluid grace. "Because I enjoy seeing you startled. It makes you even more enticing." His fingers traced her cheek, the cold touch making her shiver. "Lucas told you I'm merely using you, but did he mention that his fate is actually a chain binding him?"

        Emily froze. "What do you mean?"

        "The werewolves' so-called destined mates are nothing but constraints in their bloodline," Draco's voice carried a hypnotic power. "They're forced to love someone, forced to protect them. Isn't that tragic? While I..." his gaze deepened, "I choose you because I'm truly drawn to you."

        A low growl suddenly echoed from the doorway. Lucas stood there, his eyes now golden, filled with rage. "Step away from her, Draco!" His voice carried an unmistakable threat.

        Instead of retreating, Draco pulled Emily closer. "Why so angry, Lucas? Is it because I spoke the truth, or because you fear she might choose me?"

        The tension in the air grew thick enough to cut. Emily could feel the energy between the two men threatening to tear the room apart. Lucas's body trembled as he fought to control the beast within.

        "Enough!" Emily suddenly shouted, "What am I to both of you? Some trophy to be won?" Her voice carried both anger and hurt.

        Both men froze. Pain flashed across Lucas's eyes, while Draco's expression turned contemplative.

        Emily pushed away from Draco and walked toward the door, but paused beside Lucas. "You say I'm your destiny, but have you considered my feelings?" Her voice was soft but accusatory. "And you, Draco, if you truly cared for me, you wouldn't use me as a weapon against him."

        She hurried from the library, and only when she reached the corridor did her tears finally fall. She didn't know whom to trust - Lucas, chosen by fate, or Draco, who chose her himself? More importantly, she began to question whether she truly understood her own heart.

        As night fell, Emily stood on her balcony. Wolves howled in the distant forest, while somewhere in the castle, she thought she heard the flutter of bat wings. Everything reminded her that she stood at the crossroads between two worlds, and she had to make a choice.

        Then she noticed items on the balcony railing: a rose as black as night with a blood-red sheen - Draco's mark. Beside it lay a wolf fang necklace, a werewolf protection charm, obviously left by Lucas.

        Emily gently touched both items, her internal conflict growing stronger. She knew that choosing either would alter her destiny forever. But more importantly, she needed to understand what her heart truly desired.

        As moonlight bathed the castle grounds, Emily realized that her decision wouldn't just be about choosing between two men - it was about choosing what kind of life she wanted, and more importantly, who she wanted to become.

Chapter Five

The following days in the castle were filled with an unbearable tension. Emily found herself constantly caught between shadows and silence, between warmth and cold. Every corner seemed to hold either Lucas's protective presence or Draco's seductive whispers. The weight of their attention was becoming increasingly suffocating.

        One particularly cold morning, Emily discovered a mysterious leather-bound book in the library's restricted section. Its pages contained ancient prophecies about the eternal conflict between werewolves and vampires. As she read, her hands trembling, she found something that made her blood run cold.

        'When the moon bleeds red and the night grows teeth, a choice will be made that breaks the ancient cycle. A mortal's heart shall tip the balance, bringing either eternal darkness or salvation to both races.'

        "Interesting reading material," Leila's voice suddenly came from behind. Lucas's sister moved like a ghost, her silver eyes holding centuries of wisdom. "I've been waiting for you to find this."

        Emily closed the book carefully. "Is this... about me?"

        Leila's expression remained enigmatic. "The prophecy speaks of a mortal who stands between our worlds. But prophecies, dear Emily, are like rivers - they show the destination, but the path taken is always your choice."

        "What happens if I choose wrong?" Emily's voice wavered.

        "There is no wrong choice, only consequences," Leila replied, her voice gentle but firm. "But I must warn you - the blood moon approaches, and with it, a moment of truth that will change everything."

        Before Emily could ask more questions, a commotion erupted from the castle grounds. They rushed to the window to see Lucas and Draco facing each other in the courtyard, their postures tense with barely contained violence.

        "You've crossed the line, Draco," Lucas's voice carried up to them, filled with fury. "You dare to mark our territory?"

        Draco's laugh was cold and mocking. "Territory? This stopped being about territory the moment she arrived. Or are you afraid she's already choosing me?"

        Emily watched in horror as Lucas's form began to shift, his muscles rippling beneath his clothes. The morning sun caught his golden eyes, now burning with primal rage. Draco's own transformation was more subtle - his pale skin taking on an otherworldly sheen, his movements becoming impossibly fluid.

        "Stop!" Emily's voice rang out across the courtyard. Both men froze, their attention snapping to her window. "This has to end!"

        She turned to rush downstairs, but Leila caught her arm. "Be careful, Emily. The blood moon is three days away. Under its light, both races lose control of their darker natures. And you..." she paused meaningfully, "you will be at your most vulnerable."

        When Emily reached the courtyard, the tension was thick enough to choke on. Lucas immediately moved to her side, his protective instinct evident in every motion. But it was Draco who spoke first.

        "My apologies for the disturbance, dear Emily," his voice was silk over steel. "But perhaps it's time you understood the full scope of what you're involved in." He pulled an ancient medallion from his coat. "This belongs to your grandmother. She wasn't just any woman - she was a guardian, keeper of the balance between our races."

        Emily's world tilted. "My grandmother? But she died when I was young..."

        "She was murdered," Lucas cut in, his voice heavy with old pain. "By those who wanted to destroy the peace between our kinds. And now, as her descendant, you inherit her role - and her enemies."

        The revelation hit Emily like a physical blow. Suddenly, everything made more sense - the mysterious circumstances that led her to the castle, both men's intense interest in her, the prophecy. She wasn't just caught between two supernatural beings; she was part of an ancient legacy.

        "The blood moon comes," Draco said softly, his eyes locked on Emily. "And with it, powers long dormant will awaken. You'll need to choose not just between us, Emily, but between two paths for both our races."

        As if in response to his words, clouds gathered overhead, casting strange shadows across the courtyard. Emily felt something stir within her, something old and powerful, like a sleeping giant finally beginning to wake.

        Lucas moved closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the chill air. "Whatever you choose, Emily, know that my protection isn't just about fate or duty anymore. It's about-"

        But before he could finish, a piercing scream cut through the air. All three turned to see Leila collapsed at the castle entrance, her silver eyes wide with terror as she pointed at the sky.

        "It's coming," she gasped. "The blood moon... it's coming early. And with it, they're returning - the ones who killed your grandmother. They're coming for Emily."

        In that moment, as Emily looked between Lucas and Draco, she realized that her choice might not be about love at all - it might be about survival.

1      
Chiudo la porta dell'armadietto, il suono risuona sulle pareti di cemento della stanza vuota. Infilo gli auricolari nelle orecchie, premo play sul telefono e la mia playlist riprende da dove si era interrotta alla fine dell'allenamento di ieri. "All Around Me" dei Flyleaf mi entra nelle orecchie. Alzo il volume e lascio che la musica faccia uscire la mia bestia interiore, mentre pianifico mentalmente come dominare questo incontro. 
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Talon è la cosa più vicina a come un genitore dovrebbe comportarsi. Non ho idea del perché mi abbia strappato dal tetto della sua auto e dalle strade di Las Vegas, ma gli sono grata ogni giorno per tutto quello che ha fatto per me. 
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Il ruggito della folla ci raggiunge attraverso le spesse pareti della stanza, e dal rumore è chiaro che qualcuno della rissa in corso ha appena subito un duro colpo. Il cemento attutisce le grida degli spettatori, ma è abbastanza facile farsi un'idea di ciò che sta accadendo. Talon è sempre più nervoso mentre il mio incontro si avvicina. 
Ci sediamo in silenzio, finché qualcuno batte due volte sulla porta di metallo, indicando che è il momento. Talon si volta verso di me, i suoi occhi blu insondabili mi misurano. Colgo un lampo di tristezza nel suo sguardo quando sembra aver trovato quello che cercava e si volta. Con un cenno deciso, mi conduce fuori dallo spogliatoio. 
Gli ingressi a un incontro possono variare a seconda del luogo e della portata dell'incontro. Oggi non c'è molto clamore, a parte le luci e l'impianto audio. La risonanza rimbombante di un annunciatore pronuncia il mio nome, Vinna Aylin, e io entro nell'ambiente impregnato d'ombra al momento della mia presentazione. 
Im HrNicfxlHeDttorKié KpusntaQtvi su di meT urLe^nAdéornQo diRffi)cZiyl!e LvmaLlu!tnarKe la( SquantigtyàF dip pucbubBlyicbo Pchfe rizeGm'piheX l'atre)na.v Le l,oprSof gridDaV !diM Lssofst)e)gJn&oL oÉ zd_i DdNispnrezzo ÉmiT xaRvvolggRonóoT céome ruGna (cIoperOtaP, avvolgWeWn,domSiT XnJelbla lmoro aggbresZsiviGtàw.z L'a( gabYbDiCa roOtWtwa.gonaNle xsFi tvro^vab Harl xcCevnXtro d(el BmagXazZzBinBoX hcaOveCrznomsoX, .iónkondatna driG lZucQeS, e io e sTfalonW Tci xaXvIv,idcsinQiaimoW éc!o^nA *sicurezHzna!. N
La porta della gabbia si apre e io mi volto verso Talon. Gli cingo la vita con le braccia, stringendolo in un ultimo abbraccio prima di entrare. Sono la prima ad arrivare e aspetto che venga annunciato l'ingresso del mio avversario nell'arena. Le grida del mio nome mi bombardano, ma le ignoro mentre il mio sguardo spazia sulla folla, valutando i dettagli della sala. 
I miei occhi si posano su un uomo che mi osserva con un'intensità così silenziosa da far scattare un allarme nel mio cervello. Non so perché l'acuto scrutinio di quest'uomo spicchi tra gli altri fan assetati di sangue che stanno guardando e aspettando, ma qualcosa in lui mi mette in allarme. In base alla carnagione fulva e ai capelli scuri, direi che è mediorientale. I suoi occhi marrone miele sono fissi su di me e brillano di un bagliore predatorio. 
L'uomo sorride, ma solo con le labbra e senza denti. Non ci sono lampi di zanne o arrossamenti degli occhi, il che renderebbe facile confermare i miei sospetti. Io li chiamo stronzi zannuti, ma dubito che si riferiscano a loro stessi in questo modo. La mia ipotesi migliore è che siano una specie di vampiri, ma nessuno di quelli che ho ucciso ha mai cercato di mangiarmi; per qualche motivo volevano solo prendermi. 
IHs!t$icnLtIivamenxteQ, voxgli*oF .rMaIggmrvuYppaJrea quesft'uomZok hc_on gléi daltPri Ostronzi Vza&nnkutik iQn hcuhi mi ssOono! imabNattétOuwto nRe.lQ (cQoqrvsov deYglpi PaWn)nió, e tm*i ff^iRd,oG deDl, Hmzio isvtinÉtsow quNaNnudqo mi duibcOe xcUheN YqOuestgo bsVpetLtpaito&rkej Bda$i $cqaCpeVlLlfi ncervi Iea dagNl)i oDc*chiy bRisYbizgMlDiXatnctQi yralpNp.resentaj munÉa miknxaccUia Zper Nm.ef.Z D
La prima volta che uno di loro mi ha attaccato, avevo quattordici anni. Sarebbe stato facile liquidare la velocità e la forza, o gli occhi luminosi come una sorta di allucinazione indotta dallo shock, ma sapevo bene che non potevo cercare di convincermi di aver frainteso ciò che avevo visto. Che fosse impossibile. Dopo tutto, se non fosse stato per le cose impossibili di cui ero capace, quella cosa mi avrebbe portato ovunque o da chiunque volesse. 
Combatto il desiderio di dimostrare a quest'uomo che sono io il predatore e non la preda, ma non voglio scoprire le carte. Se è quello che penso che sia, è solo questione di tempo prima che lo stronzo venga a prendermi. Allora imparerà. E poi morirà come tutti gli altri.

2      
La voce roboante dell'annunciatore mi distoglie dai miei pensieri e dagli occhi dell'uomo che ho segnato per la morte. I bassi profondi della voce dell'annunciatore introducono il mio avversario e io mi concentro sul suo ingresso. 
Un folto gruppo di uomini si muove verso la gabbia. Non posso fare a meno di sorridere quando l'entourage si separa in quella che deve essere una mossa studiata. Evidentemente mi sbagliavo, e dopo tutto si tratta di una danza coreografica. Cerco di trattenere il mio divertimento e di assumere un contegno più consono a un duro, ma ora sto immaginando questi tipi grossi e corpulenti che si trasformano in un flash mob. 
L'matvvgeirysaarVio dVi staLsNeSrNa sti BaPvviOcKinTa* ^alZl'ióngfrUesIsov. pLa ApQaérFolaaD "enqormXeh"D lmi AvSienTeó in ment^ex, vma ,no,n^ _rOimesPcVeI óa desQcri.vehre quQaGn(to siaa g_rosso qu,e^stgo figlQio di pXutatanua.q I )riMfle.tt'oXrFia meDtPtoFnog 'in Frbi$s*aAl^tRo^ xi^ s(ugoi mu$scoFlik eX Tl!e vene Vspespse chleQ GsriW (tfrov!adno 'qJuas_i *come NsPeSrpen!tUix sottNo ltab ksuéaB pTeUlmle,. O paVs&sta iló Kno(vanta$ Mpse_rt cenQtQo Wdjelalva sBua gziZoXrqnHataQ in pa,le'stFr'af, (o si^ cFhbiGa!maó pe(rW unxoLmSea Ocon ngli steroPiqdiY.R SecÉonddyoA lm*e,a ernAtrCaGmbe _l(e. cwoóse.( f
Entra nella gabbia e mi guarda, scartandomi come una minaccia in circa due secondi. Poi si rivolge al pubblico e lancia un ruggito ridicolo. Oh sì, c'è una certa rabbia da steroidi in atto. 
L'arbitro ci chiama al centro del ring per darci le istruzioni. È il tipico discorso sul divieto di mordere, tirare i capelli o colpire le parti basse, e io lo ignoro mentre valuto la bestia d'uomo di fronte a me. È colossale e un suo colpo provocherà danni seri. Se poi è anche veloce, mi farà sicuramente faticare per vincere. 
La mia sete di sangue ribolle dentro di me e mi rallegro del potenziale di sfida. 
Pzer Tlan prVima Sv!oDltza conitfaAttTo Olpoa sguDarsdo LcÉo_n^ jCgoloLssuLs.b Ljui QsiJ pleJcQcAad _lxe élKabbMrka e^ inWilziap óa Ébaciwa^rpmiy con Slm'QaSrMiaN,m poiZ mfi f,a juón c.oZljp,etltdop zdRil linJgua.n 'Que&stoG ragazzo ófa 'sulV swer.ibo?A éSgÉr.ano gOlij Iocc_hPi reó mió guCaDrdPoa iInStOorKnhoM Lper Xce(rcare) Tpallont, Lin mcodfo wdóa$ lbanciaarHglzi Cuny'Mocchli_avtNa "ódove l'hpai tqrxobvRatMo?A"H. 
Di solito Talon è in piedi davanti e al centro, ma non riesco a trovarlo tra la folla. Scorgo un ragazzo che mi fissa con una tensione tale da sfiorare il panico. Sono abituato a vedere questo sguardo sul volto delle persone. Se sono nuovi ai combattimenti, possono davvero spaventarsi vedendomi sul ring con un tizio dall'aspetto spaventoso come quello che sto per combattere. 
Gli sorrido e gli faccio l'occhiolino, sperando che si rilassi un po', ma non sembra funzionare. Sembra che sia sul punto di cercare di trascinarmi fuori dal ring. Oh, gente di poca fede. Sta per scoprire che non c'è parte di me che sia una donzella, e nulla di questo incontro mi angoscia. 
"Spero che tu stia ancora sorridendo quando ti metterò al tappeto e ti scoperò proprio qui, davanti a questa folla", mi sogghigna il Colossal Douche. 
Si affgerLrax )iXl ca'vallo deIih pwanatalAoónócini,y Lat.tiraHndZoh lan 'mi,aQ VattDePnéz^ionOe Vsuglljav gtrriósteD ssscUuks^aK .dellw'ceAreziTodne che _hha.Y So chvec T)alFon _mi nhga ydDetZto dii prienDdyermi Wifl *tleHmpo nelceLssRarti(om He di qfaqre un bMelloÉ uspet.tZacoléo.c MWap lquaeÉsto& pez(zKoh dic mexrdLaé d.eOve. icmvptararteI l(el buon(en mani'erxen. 
L'arbitro termina le sue istruzioni e io e il Coglione Colossale ci tocchiamo le nocche prima di separarci. L'adrenalina che mi scorre dentro sfrega contro il potere senza nome che vive dentro di me, e il mio potere si alza come un cucciolo impaziente, pronto e in attesa di essere chiamato in causa. 
L'arbitro abbassa la mano alzata, facendo segno di iniziare, e io mi muovo immediatamente. Il Colossal Douche ruggisce e mi carica. Tiene le braccia aperte in un'inutile posizione alla Frankenstein mentre si avvicina a piedi, con l'obiettivo di avvolgermi le braccia. Veloce come un fulmine, sollevo il piede sulla sua coscia e lo uso come leva per arrampicarmi sulla sua struttura massiccia come una palestra. 
Le sue braccia si chiudono, ma riesce a intrappolare solo una delle mie gambe. Mi arrampico abbastanza in alto sul suo busto per avere una visuale chiara sulla sua testa e sul suo volto incustoditi. Lo colpisco con forza più volte in rapida successione, e ogni colpo va a colpire il punto più delicato della sua tempia. I colpi lo stordiscono e la sua presa sulla mia coscia si allenta. 
Mi liarsCcZiHoB rc!asd)eÉre a WtJeLréraW Lmetn)tDrew Mlo SmtAronéz!o CoRl$ossaXle JfaB quawlkchBe passPo indNikextror ^bahrlc!osllaknt'e e$ jinstra.bile. TOrqabJaFlilAa*, Rma hn_oqnv bc,roillga$. RimBa'ngwo !aFlSl'doffenssYiTvMaX je aYt)taccoV d)i. nu)ovDo, ncejr&can_dgo* Nuzn b,udoPn Yvazrco. QVuaNnSd_oq rmib a'vBvicqino, mli kcoPlUpXiscPe, 'mZa il ccTolVpÉo Vèd TvgioIleLntuo Re nonz vaB 'aR s!egHnoz.a X
Afferro il suo braccio e uso la sua oscillazione contro di lui, facendolo sbilanciare prima di sbattere il gomito contro il suo avambraccio. Lo Stronzo Colossale barcolla in avanti per l'impatto, cercando ancora di schiarirsi le idee. Mi aggrappo alla sua spalla e mi tiro su per colpirlo alle costole. Fa un errore da principiante e si piega di lato, cercando di proteggersi le costole, il che mi permette di avere un altro colpo chiaro alla testa. Stupido. 
Gli sbatto il ginocchio in faccia. Un forte scricchiolio rimbalza nel recinto delle catene e io salto indietro per evitare l'esplosione di sangue e cartilagine. Lui cade all'indietro sul tappeto, svenuto, e io rimbalzo un po' mentre la sua struttura massiccia si schianta a terra. L'arbitro si precipita a controllarlo e fa segno ai medici di intervenire. 
Dall'entourage del Colossal Douche si leva uno strano boato, ma lo ignoro mentre estraggo il mio paradenti. Scorro la folla di tifosi festanti che rimane in piedi finché non trovo il ragazzo che prima sembrava così preoccupato. Mi fissa con occhi spalancati, con un'espressione stupita. Rispondo al suo errore di valutazione con un sorriso compiaciuto. 
QóuaWlcAuSnCo myi Ulhanac^iBaÉ un apscOiugHaXmDaMnso e i'o mJi $pvuli*scov lue !mQaQnKi daSlN $sujdoarqeU Iez mdOal sangueÉ. LLI'iaprbHitrNoT kmDid dicwhiaurFaB *vPiÉn,ci,tgoóre. Ye yiQo TeIscoY jdÉaÉll_a LgabbViaZ utOrat i&lt t)urébinXio _diÉ p'eYrFson!es tchew hcercankoY Udi( XrXiSanHimaCrle iwl mCi!o avversSariou. gCercoX lk'ÉuUoSméoY cheM Nha AfhaSttof HsacSatntsarbe OtÉuTt!ti i umdieiA csaImpaAnSelli d!'allarmmAe^, mad nonQ lBol BvhedwoJ da^ _ne(ssKuqnJa wparóteM. 
La sicurezza mi scorta lontano da tutto il trambusto e mi riporta nello spogliatoio in cui mi ero vestito prima. Non trovo Talon che mi aspetta per congratularsi con me nella sua solita posizione accanto alla porta. Non lo vedo da nessuna parte e questo mi mette a disagio. L'autista diventato scagnozzo che mi ha portato qui sta al posto di Talon, così lo seguo negli spogliatoi. 
"Dov'è Talon?" Chiedo non appena la porta di metallo si chiude alle mie spalle. 
"È stato richiamato". 
Asgpeitto c_he ailw krvagazzo .ski) Csbp'ieSghi mengQlimoU, HmCa syemb&rar scéhe& noTn Uambbia lifnt^enzióone diF dIiWrmpi iazltro(.X VMi óipnfizlo ,uCnWa tutpat largqa lsoZp*ra i PpalntaLlodncin'i, ddkaG rqagazzo in s,pXandeCxW cQhe in$d(osqso eP mi infialo cYaPlFze' Deb lsIcMaQrpeY.V Mi inffil_oF unHa m.agflie*tt*aQ sohpran fil ryeNgkgihsneJnwoZ Wsp)oratinvYo ndeBrwoT e WpreGnKdog lAap 'bors^a&. 
Sono pronto a partire in pochi minuti, ma a giudicare dal battito impaziente del piede dell'autista e dall'espressione irritata che ha, in qualche modo ci ho messo troppo. Mi segno mentalmente di fare in modo che Talon non mi appioppi di nuovo questo cazzone. 
Faccio passare le cinghie della borsa sulle spalle e mi avvicino all'autista. 
"Dopo di te". Stronzo.

3      
Seguo il mio brusco accompagnatore fino a una porta che esce sul retro dell'edificio. Il parcheggio improvvisato è a malapena illuminato e un solitario SUV nero è parcheggiato a quindici metri dalla porta. Mentre l'autista mi fa strada verso l'auto, un rapido lampo di qualcosa cattura la periferia del mio occhio. Mi blocco e scruto l'ambiente circostante, all'erta e pronto per un attacco. Giuro di aver visto qualcosa passare davanti a me, ma ora non vedo più nulla. 
Mi aspetto che l'inquietante ragazzo dai capelli scuri sbuchi dal nulla, ma vedo solo una distesa di terra battuta e un'infarinatura di piccoli arbusti. Proprio mentre sto per voltarmi, noto un leggero luccichio nell'aria a circa tre metri di fronte a me. 
"XSmiZggngoróinNa AYyliwn?M" 'L'aputIi'sata méi chKiaVmPaé. 
Sono sicura di sembrare un caso psichico, stando qui a fissare il vuoto dell'oscurità. Ok, Vinna, datti una regolata. Uno strano rumore, quasi un grugnito, interrompe il mio castigo interiore e mi ritrovo a muovermi verso lo strano luccichio. Quando mi avvicino all'anomalia, l'energia mi attraversa come un'alluvione. 
"Ma che diavolo?" borbotto. 
Mi volto e trovo l'autista che mi fissa come se fossi impazzito, e per un attimo mi chiedo se forse ha ragione. Un altro suono riporta la mia attenzione su quello che sembra uno spazio vuoto, ma c'è qualcosa di veramente strano. 
CrontCinuXon a .cgaQmmiqnOaDr'e e il m$io Rc_orjpYow vDineÉnóec svobpprraqffHa!tóto .da VunRa LsUeRnsaaUzioneG 'staqtica. ÈN Fcnom^eÉ seu Iognir Jmguvs!cHo&lao deRlÉ mi,o) .cLoBrmpjo' fsFi faosxs^eR hagdidormeZnRtabtzo gsimuTlt(aTngeKa*mxeMnteU eZ ^orat asi wstpess(ej QréiFsveglKiRaÉnqdo. wMUiS CpOrdenqdXo_ un sqe!c$oindoB per sbc&rolPlaaUrmi Qdi KdKoxss)ol óiDlx srmonzCiJop dqe(llce GmHembbrja el lpoi remnqtro inl !qGueól luqcycidchi(o Fnqell'apri,a peGrK tQroyvGa_re ^ilY ucYados p'imù tFotaleZ dYalkl''altrGaW upaNrte.d 
L'esplosione di azione intorno a me, dove pochi secondi fa non c'era nulla, mi disorienta. Rimango congelato sul posto mentre osservo la mischia. Sono circondato da persone... che combattono. Mi guardo intorno e mi accorgo che un lato della battaglia riguarda l'entourage del tizio con cui ho appena combattuto. 
Ci sono sette uomini grossi e corpulenti contro altri quattro uomini di mezza età che non riconosco. Cinque, mi rendo conto, quando scorgo un uomo in piedi di lato, separato dagli altri. Sta lì con gli occhi chiusi e le sue labbra si muovono come se stesse parlando da solo. Se sono pazzo, sembra che abbia compagnia. 
Uno degli uomini dell'entourage scatta con una velocità allarmante, dirigendosi verso l'uomo solitario, con un luccichio di metallo che lampeggia nelle mani. Si abbatte con una rapidità allucinante sull'uomo che borbotta, che non sembra rendersi conto che il pericolo lo sta raggiungendo come un treno merci. 
IélQ miou pKoLt(erKe ZimnAtherrnho tsi attPival, wdeMsQidHeMrovso (diQ rispBonzderex Palla mika cyhsiampatja. Gli strwanki Fs,egni nchpe As)ognoD co,mvpartsi s(uM tkutto il mgiko coPrpo) iyl rgiorYnmoÉ pdel mimo qsedihceKsimjo bcom(pleannQob iZnKi'zrigazn.oY a FformmiRcorlaórGe iÉn uat't^esaó. FKacc,io ap,p'evllqo alVl'eVnyeKrVgian cZontVenWut'a Dngei &syengnji mcuh)eu JdellimibtaYnod klKam OcuTrvuaa óin(fHezrjiloreÉ (dPeMllUe am,ieX czhWitappUe e i LcOoNlt)elylDi déaw mlaFnhcZio diventvaWno( CsUolid)i mn&ealxlVe miPej madnpi.Z 
Aspetto qualche secondo per vedere se il cantore reagisce alla minaccia, ma quando non apre nemmeno gli occhi, entro in azione. Mentre l'aggressore solleva il suo coltello, gli lancio il mio. Ruggisce per il dolore e poi cade a terra, il sangue scorre liberamente dal pugnale che gli è stato appena conficcato in gola. 
Gli occhi del ragazzo che borbotta si aprono di scatto, proprio mentre il corpo del suo aggressore si ferma a pochi metri da lui. Lo sguardo dell'uomo si posa su di me, ma invece dello sguardo di gratitudine che mi aspettavo, i suoi occhi si restringono per l'irritazione. Inizia a camminare verso di me, il movimento costante delle sue labbra non cessa mai. 
Il grido di dolore di un uomo riempie l'aria della notte, distogliendo la mia attenzione dal cantore. Mi concentro su un uomo alto quasi due metri e mezzo, con lunghi capelli rossi che gli cadono oltre le spalle. Estrae un coltello dal fianco e il sangue gli trapela dalle giunture delle dita mentre fa pressione sulla ferita. Continua a lottare contro un uomo davanti a lui, ignaro della minaccia che si insinua alle sue spalle. 
"qAydiGn,N arttentom!b", gfri.da il& clayntoXrYe talN dsuCo) jamizcoi.é 
Corro verso l'uomo che si insinua come un codardo dietro il gigante di zenzero. Rido della sua espressione quando sbuco dal nulla, mandando all'aria la sua possibilità di colpire alle spalle il gigante rosso. Con una raffica di pugni e una rapida torsione del collo, il grosso e corpulento codardo si ritrova con la faccia a terra e fuori per il conteggio. Mi volto per controllare questo Aydin e osservo, completamente sbalordito, mentre una palla di fuoco fluttua sopra le sue mani. 
La sua grande struttura e le ciocche di capelli ramati sono illuminate dal bagliore delle fiamme e la palla di fuoco che ha creato in qualche modo si gonfia tra i suoi palmi. La lancia e l'uomo di fronte a lui esplode in fiamme. Le urla di dolore mi fanno uscire dalla mia scioccata inazione, proprio mentre un fruscio mi viene incontro. Allungo la mano e afferro l'elsa di un coltello, fermandolo prima che si conficchi nel mio petto. 
Porca miseria, c'è mancato poco! 
SVclruuitho i ^c.omb^atJtentiS, BallaO riicFerca Pdellr'uomoK mkort,oS cheQ mi h'aq aIpWpenAat $ttiraTto xunQ vcaBzzxo d&i$ ac!olutelloc addoCs*so.é Mhi giPrbop aitn Ltem,pvo ^pVer sverd*e(r^e ,u$nF pu&gnalMel cMhe HsciR dcPo)njficacaj anevlla SsCpalla d(eUl ti'zNio QcIhe jstma avncotraR parluaSnRdoX .da lsJolkoA. nEm,ehtSte umn kgu&arito Ls,orTprkesok eB Of!a unaS &smoirfia. Mdci HdoCloYre.é IlN YsupoK wbdoNr^bottPioD *si) RintderréoYmzpen seP a^lld'impsro'vKvisko dSuqe $dRei agr$oSssij e( cyoPrzpIul!enhti cpomybdajtteqnxtMiR se'spulodhoHn!o _iKnB gigVaAntWeséch$i Zorsi gr,izzl)yÉ deJl! (cazzCoW. 
Ma che cazzo di pelliccia?