"You think you're special because Dante protects you?"
I turned to find Isabella waiting outside the dining hall, arms crossed, her expression sharpened into something more deliberate than her usual cruelty.
"If Dante's protection makes me special," I said, "what does your obsession with it make you?"
Something flickered across her face, a crack in the composure she usually wore like armor. "He doesn't tolerate people who become liabilities."
"You seem unusually interested in what Dante tolerates," I said, watching her carefully. "Almost like you're speaking from experience rather than speculation."
Her jaw tightened, and for a moment I saw something beneath the jealousy I'd assumed was the whole of her, something closer to fear.
"You don't know the man you're standing beside," Isabe
