Chapter Thirty Nine.

Eloise’s Pov.

After Dante left, the silence was immediate.

Not quiet—silence.

The kind that presses in too close. That clings to your skin. That reminds you, too abruptly, that you are alone.

I sat there for a while, listening to the last echoes of his footsteps fade down the hallway, feeling the way the door clicked shut behind him like a slow exhale. I told myself it was fine–i needed space. Time to reset. To breathe.

But God, it was getting harder to breathe around him.

Dante. The man who didn't touch me unless I asked–had somehow touched me more than anyone ever had. A presence that wrapped around me without even trying, like gravity. Like he didn't have to reach for me because my body was already leaning towards him, hungry without permission.

I hated how safe I was with him, or the way the air in a room shifted when he entered. Or how the heat in my chest never really faded after he left–just settled into a full, pulsing ache.

He hadn't kissed me. Not yet. But he fed me