Chapter Master Dante Novels & Stories

When I got to the study door I saw Fred and he opened the door for me. I took a deep breath and walked in. The master bought out a book from the shelf and skipped through the pages. He must be looking for something. He paid no mind to me.I stood there for a while and he still said nothing. I was afraid to do anything wrong. I looked at him and I noticed for the first time how handsome he was. He seemed peaceful. "You must have not been taught well" he finally said. "M..master" I stammered. I couldn't seem to find my voice.

She wouldn't appear weak. Dante observed her, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes – approval? Annoyance? It was impossible to tell. He leaned back in his high-backed leather chair, his fingers steepled under his chin. The setting sun, now a brilliant, fiery orange, cast long shadows across his face, making him seem both angelic and demonic. "Good," he murmured, his voice a low, steady current. "A semblance of understanding. That is the first step."

I have to admit that he's an imposing figure, with his wide chest and impossibly long frame. He stoops down and grabs the woman's chin, forcing her to face him. "I am Desmond Stewart and I am your master. From now on, until I free you from this bind, your will is no longer your own. You will forget everything that happens and your mind will be clear of any words, thoughts, desires, or feelings." He is glamoring her, and I am very confused. Aren't vampires limited to one attendant each by law? The woman's eyes seem to focus and unfocus, and a few seconds later, she smiles at him.

His brooding eyes scan Adelaide and I, and I swallow, sensing something off. “I also wanted to speak to you, Adelaide.” He adds and Adelaide glances at me, already panting. “About what?” “Christopher.” Dante says the name like he wants to stab whoever it is until they are paralyzed. “What about him?” Adelaide tries to act cool, but it's pointless, Dante knows everything. “You're dating a hippie?”

Never said much but moved around with the air of someone who knew he would be touched by something dangerous. Now with a hair nicely slicked back, eyes darker than ink and an aura that felt like he could command the paints to strip off our walls, he sat quietly across me. He leaned into the chair and scanned everyone's faces like he was trying to remember us. It's been fifteen years after all. Father cleared his throat. “Dante.” “Aldo,” Dante leaned in, an amused smirk on his face as if they were sharing a private joke. He got up briefly and brushed a kiss across my mother's cheek.

Chapter 1 The Contract Captain Tane unrolled the parchment that had been handed to him by the messenger who had both arrived and departed that morning. He was a tall man, taller than most of the men in his company, but not by much. His sandy blonde hair was common for the people of this region, but his green eyes stood out a little. His father’s had been hazel, like most of the Tane family who trained the horses at Chadwick manor. He had his mother’s green eyes. He thought about his parents for a few moments, strengthening his resolve, before forcing himself to return to the matter at hand.

“A little shaken, maybe, but he’ll live—probably.” “What the hell did you do?” I spun toward him, fury blazing in my chest. Dante shrugged, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. “The same thing you were planning to do, just better. You can’t beat a master at his own game, cara. I made Matteo, and what does he do? Turns around, steals my woman, and tries to kill me. Ungrateful, wouldn’t you say?”

Dante cried out, nearly bolting from his chair in shock. "Mr. Fletcher, you seem rather agitated. Is it because you actually know something?" Charlie’s voice was gentle and polite, but the implication was enough to cause a heart attack. Sensing that Charlie was the more "reasonable" one, Dante immediately abandoned the difficult Kyle and turned to Charlie with a pained expression. "Mr. Clemens, I can see you’re a man of reason. You know why I organized this gathering and invited so many people. You are all the 'fresh blood' that the Chamber of Commerce prizes. I’m trying to win you over, not harm you! Brother, you can’t go breaking my heart like this."

LUCA Dante came back like a ghost with a ledger. He arrived in the deepest hour of night, boots soft against the marble, cloak soaked from a sky that had learned to weep only in ruins. I met him in the low chapel — the place we went when we needed silence or absolution, which had recently been the same thing. He stood with the sort of exhausted grace men who’ve been in too many funerals develop. We both knew which one this would be. “You brought the paper,” I said. My voice sounded smaller than I meant it to.

"You're too smart, too quick. Someone with real amnesia wouldn't be able to handle things the way you do." "Then why did you play along?" Dante was silent for a long time. "Because I wanted you to choose me. This time, for real. With no debts, no lies." "Us?" I looked at him, confused. "What was there between us?" Dante walked to his desk and opened the bottom drawer. He took out a worn metal medallion, engraved with the image of St. Christopher. My heart nearly stopped. "That's..." I reached out a trembling hand.