Chapter 11

Elora’s POV

I thought he had vanished. After the mess I made rejecting Dante, heart pounding, voice like knives, my whole body shaking, I figured he’d just disappear for good. Not just the almost-mate I never signed up for, or that stupid, impossible pull in my chest I keep trying to stomp out, but even the shadowy sort of friend he’d managed to become since I landed in this bonkers pack.

But no. Dante didn’t go all cold and dramatic like I'd pictured. Didn’t turn into some ghost skulking out of my periphery, didn’t suddenly find the floor extremely fascinating whenever we crossed paths. He actually stuck around.

What shocked me was that he was actually nice. 

The first morning after I had burned everything down. I was out at the training ground, yelling at a bunch of teenagers who’d rather faint than spar with real intent. Trying to convince them not to suck so much, and then, my skin prickled, and I just knew he was coming before I spotted him. Dante has got that way about him.

I braced myself, ready for awkward. Maybe an ice-cold shoulder if I’m lucky.

But he just shouts across the field, not to me, but to the kid on my left, “Hey, you’re gripping your blade too close, man. She’ll have it outta your hand in a blink.”

The kid nearly dropped the sword, fixed it up, and couldn’t meet Dante’s gaze for a second. He walks over, cocky stride, and suddenly, everyone goes silent. It was like his presence pulled them into orbit. He flicked a glance at me, just a twitch at the lips, almost a smile.

“I’m not here to mess up your thing,” he muttered, loud enough for me to hear him. He leaned in closer, voice low. “Just figured they could use backup. Friends don’t leave friends floundering.”

Friends.

That word hit the inside of my chest in a way I couldn't explain. It was like someone plucked a string in there that hadn’t made a noise for ages. I couldn’t even answer, just nodded because my throat’s knotted up.

********""

 A few days later in the kitchen, I was ready to ream the omegas out for ruining another loaf of bread as hard as shingles stacked on the counter. I opened my mouth to start my lecture, but guess who was already munching on the rejected bread? He chewed, swallowed, kept a completely poker-straight face, and said, “Honestly? Not bad. You just need, like, a whole beach worth of salt.”

Everyone laughed. Suddenly, the air was lighter, and omegas could breathe again. I glared at Dante, but he just shrugged. 

“Relax, Luna. You’ve got them shaking in their boots already.”

I wanted to be mad. Instead… the smirk wouldn’t leave my face, not really.

First, I tried to keep out of his way. Safer if I stayed back, I convinced myself. Something was fishy. Why was he being so nice to me? He had always been cold and I had been the one clinging to him. The problem? He started bringing this friendliness. The kind you don’t expect, the kind that’s not so easy to shake as lust.

Dante, relentless but gentle, started showing everywhere. He’d pitch into my meetings with the omegas, offering suggestions but never stepping on my toes, patrolling with me, cracking jokes until even the sourest guards cracked up.

It was a late afternoon but it felt like nighttime with how exhausted I was. I came back from dealing with yet another border mess and there he was, parked outside the council room. Arms folded, the pure definition of trouble, leaning just right.

“You haven’t stopped for air in a week,” he said,  eyeing my messy hair, the bags under my eyes. “Come on. I’ve got something to show you.”

“I’m busy,” I snapped, but still stood there.

“Exactly. Five minutes, Elora. Not a second more.”

Against all logic, I let him drag me to the tree line. He pointed up. I looked up and my jaw dropped. Fireflies everywhere, like a low-hanging galaxy weaving itself through the bark and leaves.

I froze. There’s this quiet inside me that hasn’t existed for as long as I can remember.

“You made all this happen?” I whispered, too stunned to hide it.

“No. They come every year, but most people miss it. Didn’t wanna let you be one of them. Even the Luna gets to live, sometimes.”

And under that shimmer, beside him, I smiled so big it ached. Dante just stood there, not pushing, not begging, nothing desperate, watching for a second until he got enough.

After that? Nights get complicated. I lay in bed, Dominic not even denting the sheets on his side, and I could think of nothing but Dante. His stupid steady hand at my elbow when I nearly drop the books that keep our whole pack fed. Dante telling me, again and again, “You’re not alone.”

Which sucks, because I want it. I want all of it.

And I hate myself for that.

So, eventually, I tried to put the brakes on. One cold, clear night we’re wrapping up a late patrol, and he offers to walk me home. He’s all moonlight and leather, looking impossibly stupid-gorgeous, and I just blurted it out:

“Dante. This… whatever it is...it’s risky. Too risky. For both of us.”

He froze, turned around, and looked right at me. I couldn’t read his eyes, not really, but there was something solid in them.  

“Look, Elora, I’m not here making speeches about love. I’m not even saying you have to want me. I just… don’t think you ought to drag all this by yourself. You deserve to be seen.”

I just stared at him.

He pulled out his hand, didn’t make contact, just hovered, like he couldn’t decide if the distance mattered.

“It doesn’t have to be weird. You're my mate and you know Dominic doesn't have a problem with that.”

I scoffed 

"So you're only spending time with me because Dominic is always with Mira?" I asked, although not sure if it doesn't hurt.

"What else? I wanted to reject you at the very beginning but after seeing you with Dominic in the situation, it looks pitiful," He said.

"I look pitiful?" I asked, squinting my eyes 

"In my eyes, you do," He blurted. 

My cheeks turned red in anger.