Blood and Desire

Chapter Seven: Taken

Elena’s fingers curled into tight fists, her nails biting into her palms.

Dante’s words still hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

"Then I’ll throw you over my shoulder and take you anyway."

She should fight. Scream.

But the way he looked at her—like she was something fragile yet dangerous—made her pulse skitter.

Elena straightened, lifting her chin in defiance. "You can’t just force me to go with you."

Dante’s smirk was slow and lethal. "Watch me."

Before she could react, he moved.

One second, she was standing against the door. The next, she was over his shoulder, legs kicking, fists pounding against his back.

"Dante!" she hissed, furious, twisting in his grip. "Put me down, you arrogant bastard!"

His only response was a low chuckle.

The bastard was enjoying this.

Elena slammed a fist against his back, but he didn’t even flinch. Didn’t break stride as he carried her through the apartment like she weighed nothing.

She caught a glimpse of the darkened hallway as he passed the threshold, his boots silent against the floorboards.

"Dante, I swear—"

"Swear all you want, little dove," he murmured, voice laced with amusement. "It won’t change a damn thing."

She bucked against him, furious, but his arm tightened around her thighs, pinning her in place.

"I can walk," she growled.

Dante snorted. "I know."

"Then put me down!"

Silence.

Then, a pause in his stride.

"Are you going to run?"

Elena clenched her jaw. Lying wouldn’t help.

"Yes."

Dante sighed. "Then no."

She cursed, digging her nails into his back, but he didn’t so much as flinch.

He carried her effortlessly down the stairs, moving like a shadow through the dimly lit corridor.

When they reached the exit, he finally set her down—but not before pressing her back against the cold wall, his arms caging her in.

Elena’s breath stilled.

"You don’t understand what’s at stake here," Dante murmured, his voice low and dark, his fingers brushing over the column of her throat.

She swallowed hard.

"You’re in this now," he continued, his green eyes burning into hers. "The second you pulled me into your home, you stopped being a bystander."

Elena’s stomach tightened. She knew he was right.

Knew that if those men found out she had helped him… she was already as good as dead.

But that didn’t mean she had to like it.

Dante tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"I’ll keep you safe," he murmured, his voice softer now. "But you stay with me. You do exactly what I say."

Elena should have pushed him away.

Should have fought harder.

But instead, she found herself nodding.

Dante’s lips curved into a knowing smirk.

"Good girl."

And just like that, she was his.