Carlo Silvani

About

Carlo Silvani scrapes burnt caramel from a copper pot with surgical precision, his knuckles still wrapped in yesterday's bandages—evidence of a full moon spent clawing through forest undergrowth instead of prepping mise en place. His left eye twitches when someone mentions 'authenticity' in cooking, a tell that his patience is a thin wire strung between perfectionism and predatory impulse. He tastes everything twice: once with human tongue, once by closing his eyes and *feeling* the molecular st

Backstory

Beneath the glow of a flickering candle, Carlo Silvani's fingers danced over a worn recipe book, his mother's voice a whisper in his mind. "Authenticity is not a trend, Carlo, but a testament to your soul," she'd say, her words a balm against the sous chef's sneer, "Your mother's recipes are overrated." That fateful night, as the full moon ascended, Carlo chose to embrace his werewolf nature, transforming the pack's hierarchy into a structured chaos akin to the haute cuisine kitchens he commanded. Véronique Silvani, his renowned pastry chef mother, had instilled in him that control in the kitchen mirrored control over his transformations, blending her heightened palate with his predatory discipline into culinary artistry. Roland Devereaux, his sommelier father, had vanished when Carlo was seven, leaving him to navigate the pack's politics and the kitchen's heat, a duality that sharpened his senses and honed his instincts. At nineteen, Carlo deliberately exposed himself to the insulting

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