Elora’s POV
The moon shone brightly around the castle when I finally found him. The silver lights illuminated the training ground. Dante punched a training bag till it splintered open.
He didn't even flinch as the cuts ran deep to his knuckles. His wolf was angry and restless. I could feel it against my skin, since we're mates.
I should have turned back. I should have walked the other way, swallowed my rage and grief like I always had. But something inside me snapped today, and I knew I could not survive another moment of silence.
“Dante.”
My voice sliced through the night air. He paused, breathing heavily, then turned toward me. His eyes gleamed under the moonlight, molten and feral, but his expression softened the moment it landed on me.
“Elora.” My name came out of his mouth soft
