Blood and Desire

Chapter Nine: Cracks in the Ice

The house was colder than the night air outside, a hollow shell of something once grand.

Elena wrapped her arms around herself, pretending it was just from the chill.

Dante moved ahead of her, flicking on the lights. Dim. Flickering. They barely pushed back the shadows creeping along the walls.

"This place is—"

"Temporary," he cut in.

His deep voice echoed in the empty space, sending a shiver down her spine.

He was too calm.

Too controlled.

Like he hadn’t just turned her life upside down.

Like he hadn’t just killed two men and stolen her away from everything she knew.

Elena clenched her jaw, refusing to let him see how rattled she was.

"What now?" she challenged, crossing her arms. "Do you keep me locked up like some kidnapped princess? Chain me to the bed?"

Dante’s smirk was slow, dangerous.

"Tempting," he murmured. "But no."

Heat flushed through her veins.

He stalked toward her, his presence an unshakable force.

Elena held her ground.

Even as he stopped inches away.

Even as she had to tilt her head back to meet his sharp green gaze.

"Let’s get one thing straight, little dove," Dante murmured, his fingers trailing along her jaw, slow and deliberate.

"You’re not my prisoner."

Elena swallowed hard, her breath catching at his touch. "Could’ve fooled me."

His eyes flickered with something dark, unreadable.

"You’re here because it’s the only way to keep you alive," he said, voice low. "And if that means keeping you close, then so be it."

His words shouldn’t have made her stomach tighten.

Shouldn’t have made heat curl low in her gut.

But God help her—they did.

Elena turned her head, breaking his touch. "I don’t need your protection."

Dante chuckled, a sound that sent chills down her spine.

"Maybe not," he admitted. "But you have it anyway."

And for some reason, that terrified her more than anything else.