The snow fell in silence, blanketing the forest in a hush that felt almost reverent. But the peace was a lie—an illusion draped over the chaos that lingered just beneath the surface. Selena shivered as she walked beside Dante, the cold biting at her skin despite the thick cloak he had wrapped around her shoulders.
They had been on the run for days.
Every night was a new hiding place. Every morning, another reminder that their enemies were never far behind. The Council's reach stretched longer than Dante had anticipated, and now the once-feared Mafia King found himself hunted like an animal.
But he was no animal.
He was something far worse.
Selena kept glancing at him when she thought he wasn't looking. The way he moved—silent and precise, like a predator—unnerved her. Yet it was the moments in between, the brief flickers of pain behind his eyes, that disturbed her the most.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
Dante didn't look at her. "Somewhere they can't find us."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you'll get right now."
Selena scowled. "You said I deserved the truth."
"And you'll have it," he said, stopping in the middle of the snowy path. He turned to face her, golden eyes burning with intensity. "But not here. Not while they're still hunting us. You want to understand me? Then stay alive long enough to hear the full story."
The fire in his gaze sent a chill down her spine.
She wanted to scream at him, to tell him that she hadn't asked for any of this. But deep down, a darker part of her—a part she didn't want to acknowledge—was starting to want answers for a different reason.
Because she was changing.
She felt it in the way her dreams were no longer her own. In the way her body reacted to him—not just with fear or revulsion, but with something far more dangerous.
Need.
Desire.
Bond.
They reached an abandoned manor hidden deep in the woods by nightfall. The walls were cracked, the roof half-caved, but it offered shelter. Dante moved through it like he'd been there before, pushing open a door that revealed a room still mostly intact.
"This used to be a sanctuary," he murmured. "A place for creatures like me before the wars. Before the Council."
Selena stepped inside cautiously. "What happened to it?"
"They happened," he said simply. "Burned most of it to the ground."
He lit a fire with ease, using some ancient trick she didn't quite catch. Flames danced in the hearth, casting long shadows on the stone walls. Selena sat near the warmth, her fingers trembling as she removed her wet boots.
Dante leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching her with an unreadable expression.
"You want to know the truth?" he asked.
She looked up, surprised by the offer. "Yes."
"Then listen closely."
And he told her.
About the curse that ran in his bloodline. About the pact his ancestors had made with the gods of the underworld in exchange for power. A pact that had bound their souls to a beast—one of fury, of vengeance, of eternal hunger.
"They thought they could control it," Dante said. "Harness the beast for power, for legacy. But you don't control a monster. You feed it. Or it feeds on you."
Selena's throat went dry. "And you… you're the last?"
"The last born of the Valerio line. The final inheritor of the curse."
"Is there no way to break it?"
Dante's eyes flickered to the fire. "There is. But the cost…"
She leaned forward. "What is it?"
He looked at her then, and she saw it—the fear. Not of the Council. Not of death.
Of her.
"It requires the blood of the mate," he whispered. "Willingly given."
Selena recoiled. "You mean I have to die?"
"No," he said quickly. "Not necessarily. But you would be changed. Marked. Bound to the curse in a way even I don't understand."
She stood abruptly. "So that's what this is about? You need me to save you?"
"I didn't ask for this either!" he growled, the beast rising behind his eyes. "I tried to fight it. I tried to stay away. But the moment you walked into my world, everything changed."
The fire flared with his rage.
Selena backed away, heart racing.
"You think I want to drag you into this?" he asked, voice raw. "You think I enjoy watching the fear in your eyes every time I speak?"
"Then let me go!" she screamed.
"I can't."
"Why not?"
He stepped closer, and when he spoke, it wasn't with anger—but agony.
"Because if I do, they'll take you. And they'll use you to destroy me."
Selena shook her head, tears burning her eyes. "I'm not your weapon."
"No," he said. "You're my salvation."
She turned away, unable to look at him.
Sleep didn't come easy that night. Selena lay on the old couch in the corner of the room, wrapped in one of Dante's cloaks. She could feel his presence even in the silence—like gravity, pulling her toward him.
When she finally drifted into slumber, her dreams were filled with fire. Screaming. And Dante's voice, whispering her name over and over.
In the middle of the night, she awoke with a gasp.
He was sitting across from her, watching.
"What are you doing?" she asked, breathless.
"Protecting you," he said.
"From what?"
"From myself."
She sat up slowly. "You can't keep doing this."
"I know."
"Then what do we do?"
He leaned forward. "We prepare. Because the Council won't stop. They've tasted your blood now. They'll come for more. And next time, they'll bring monsters of their own."
"Then teach me," she said suddenly.
Dante blinked. "What?"
"Teach me how to fight. How to survive. How to kill them if I have to."
He stared at her for a long moment, then nodded slowly.
"As you wish, little dove."
And in that moment, something shifted.
She was no longer just a girl caught in a nightmare.
She was becoming the storm.
And heaven help the world when she took flight.