Reality crashed back into me like a pail of ice water, snapping the dark spell holding me frozen.
I slammed my hands against Dante’s broad chest, channelling every ounce of frantic, Beta-born force into my arms. The sudden shove caught him off guard—he staggered back half a step, his shoes scraping sharply against the wood floor.
"Get the f**k off me!" I gasped, my voice trembling violently as I backed away, my chest heaving for clean air.
Dante didn't chase me. He stood near the podium, his crisp white sleeves pulled up, his dark hair slightly dishevelled, watching me with a cold, terrifying satisfaction. He casually raised a hand, his thumb tracing his own swollen lip where my taste lingered, his icy blue eyes gleaming with unholy victory.
I didn't give him another second. I snatched
