Chapter 130

Dante’s POV

I stuck around after everyone else bailed, just sitting there beside her bed, the whole room stinking of that weird herbal crap the healer left behind. Seriously, it was like a forest floor died in here.

Dominic peaced out to handle the council mess. He barely said anything, just slipped out really quietly. I didn’t try to stop him. I didn't have the strength to.

Because, honestly, I couldn’t leave her. Not tonight. No way.

Elora barely moved, breathing shallow but hanging on. The candle shining in the room made her look like a ghost. Her hand just stayed on her body, fingers limp, and I kept staring at it, almost reaching out, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually touch her. I didn’t want to find out how cold she was.

I’ve been through hell. I’ve fought, killed, and buried people I called family. None of that, none of it, wrecked me like watching her fade out right in front of me.

The mark on her neck? It was supposed to save her. That was the plan.

My fangs had cut her skin for a reason, not out of rage. I felt the bond spark up, hot and electric, but it fizzled out way too fast. Like, I could literally feel it slipping away like trying to hold onto water. Just left me with the taste of her blood and this gaping hole where we were supposed to meet in the middle.

And then there’s the healer, whose words keep clawing through my head.

Because her heart isn’t yours alone.

I hated how true that felt. Like, it didn’t matter how much I loved her or how hard I tried to love her; I couldn’t fix her illness. Love isn't a magic potion.

“Damn it,” I muttered, forehead pressed to her bed, my voice all shredded and raw. “Why’s it never enough?”

Nothing answered me. Just her breathing, so soft it barely counted.

I stayed there for ages, I think. Kneeling, shaking, feeling useless. The night just kept stretching on, cold as hell.

And then, her fingers moved. Barely, but I saw it.

I froze. Couldn’t even move.

Slow as a sunrise, she turned her head, eyes half-open and kind of lost, but she saw me. “Dante?”

That tiny whisper... it hit me so hard.

I grabbed her hand, held on like maybe I could anchor her here. “I’m here.”

She gave me this tired little smile. “You shouldn’t be awake.”

A laugh choked out of me, totally not normal. “You passed out in front of half the council. Sleep’s not really on my mind.”

She almost laughed, but her eyes stayed sad. “You worry too much.”

“You almost died,” I said, quiet as a confession.

Her look softened. “You always think death’s the worst thing.”

My throat closed up. “What’s worse?”

She went quiet, eyes flickering everywhere but me. Then, super soft: “Loving two people and knowing one of them will always ache.”

That one hurt. I didn't wanna hear it. Not tonight.

“Elora...”

She cut me off with a tiny shake of her head and squeezed my hand. “You are my home, Dante.”

My heart just about stopped. The way she said it hurt and healed at the same time.

Her eyes shone in the candlelight, tears threatening to fall. “But not my whole sky.”

It took a second to land. When did it happen? Gutted.

I couldn't breathe. My chest felt heavy as my vision blurred. I tried to say something... anything, but nothing came out except a strangled breath.

“Elora…” It barely counted as a word.

She smiled, soft and sad. “Don’t look at me like that. You’ve always known, huh?”

I swallowed, my throat burning. “Know what?”

“That my heart… never really belonged to just one person.”

I wanted to fight it.

I really did. I wanted to scream at the sky and ask if this was just some cruel joke being played at me. But that ugly truth had been squatting inside my chest for weeks now. Just lurking, waiting for me to finally own up.

Turns out, the Moon never chained us together so we could keep each other forever. Nah, it tied us up in that mess called love... and love? That stuff never listens to logic.

So I dropped my head, letting her words hit their mark. Didn’t even try to dodge.

She reached out, shaky as hell, and her thumb brushed my cheek. Her skin felt weirdly cold against my burning face. “Don’t carry the world on your shoulders, Dante. Sometimes… even love can’t fix what the Moon has already written.”

And that? That’s when something inside me just cracked.

The tears got there before I could even think about holding them back. Hot and messy and way too real. Last time I cried? Ages ago. Not for Mom. Not for my brother when he didn’t make it home. Not even for all the scars life’s handed me.

But now? Right then, kneeling by her bed, hearing the woman I loved say I wasn’t everything she needed, I broke down. No shame left.

I pressed my forehead into her hand and just let it happen. Didn’t care if it was ugly or silent or whatever.

She didn’t say a word. Just sifted her fingers through my hair, slow, gentle. Her breathing kept shaking, like even staying awake was asking too much for her.

“I love you,” I managed, and my voice sounded tired and rough, like it belonged to someone else and not mine.

Her lips twitched... half a smile, maybe. Eyes already sliding shut. “I know,” she whispered.

“And that’s why it hurts.”

And then her hand slipped away. Just like that. She fell asleep, face finally soft, not twisted up with pain for once.

I didn’t move. Sat there till the sun started poking through the window, just listening to her breathe.

And for the first time in years, I prayed. Not even sure to whom. The Moon? Fate? Whatever cruel bastard’s up there writing our story.

I prayed love would be enough to keep her here.

But the truth? Deep down, I already knew.

It might not be.