Chapter 5: His Mark on My Soul
782 Words
The silence that followed their kiss wasn’t peaceful—it was electric, a deafening hum that vibrated through Chloe’s bones. She couldn’t breathe. Not properly. Not with Dante standing so close, his hands still warm on her waist, his lips hovering near hers like he might take more—if she let him.
And God help her… she wanted to let him.
She stumbled back, heart pounding like a war drum. “This is insane,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “We can’t… we shouldn’t have…”
Dante didn’t chase her. He just watched. Calm. Dangerous. His eyes, that deep burnished amber, held something raw in them. Something that made her shiver. “But we did.”
“I’m your stepsister,” she said, almost choking on the words. “You live down the hall from me. Our parents—”
“Are not blood,” he interrupted, stepping forward again, slow, like a predator stalking his prey. “They married, Chloe. We didn’t. You and I… we were something before they ever signed those papers.”
“No, we weren’t.” She tried to back up more, but her spine hit the wall behind her, trapping her. Her breath hitched. Dante was in front of her now—too close, too warm, too intoxicating.
“You keep lying to yourself,” he said lowly, tilting his head. “You act like you don’t feel it when I touch you. You act like you didn’t lean into that kiss. I felt it, Chloe. You didn’t push me away.”
“I froze,” she whispered, but even she didn’t believe it.
Dante’s palm landed flat against the wall beside her head, and he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “You trembled. Not from fear. From need.”
“Stop it,” she breathed, eyes shutting tight as if the darkness behind her eyelids would save her from what she was feeling.
He growled, deep and low. It wasn’t human. It was something else. Something wild. “You think I don’t see the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching? You think I don’t smell the change in you when I’m near?”
“Smell?” Her eyes flew open, confused, searching his. “What are you saying?”
Dante stared down at her like he was holding back something brutal. Something primal. “You want the truth?” he asked.
Chloe nodded slowly, the air around them thick with tension.
“I’m not just your stepbrother,” he whispered. “I’m a wolf, Chloe. And you—” He leaned closer, voice gravelly, intense. “—you’re my mate.”
The words knocked the breath from her lungs. “No. No, that’s not—”
“It’s real,” he cut in, gaze never leaving hers. “That pull between us? The fire that burns through my chest every time you’re near? It’s not just hormones or twisted attraction. It’s fate.”
She stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “You’re insane.”
“Maybe,” he said with a slight smirk. “But that doesn’t make it less true.”
Her knees nearly buckled. A mate? This was… impossible. Her life had already been spiraling out of control since she moved in here. And now her stepbrother was claiming to be a werewolf—and worse—that she was somehow bound to him?
“This can’t be happening,” she muttered.
Dante’s hand cupped her cheek gently, like she was glass. “I know it’s a lot. But Chloe… I would never hurt you. Even before I knew what you were to me, I wanted to protect you. Keep you. Every guy that looks at you—I see red. You’re mine. You always have been.”
Her body betrayed her. Heat curled low in her belly. Her breath came quicker. “You’re obsessed,” she whispered.
He nodded, unapologetic. “With you? Yeah. Completely.”
And when his mouth descended on hers again, there was no hesitation left.
This kiss wasn’t like the last. It was fire and fury, desperate and possessive. His hands gripped her waist tightly, pulling her flush against him. She moaned into his mouth before she could stop herself, her fingers clutching his shirt, needing something to hold on to because she felt like she was drowning in him.
When they finally broke apart, Dante’s forehead rested against hers, their breaths mingling.
“You can run all you want,” he whispered. “But I’ll always find you.”
And something in Chloe—something deep, buried and aching—believed him.
- Writer
