Dante Dmc 6 Novels & Stories

He stepped forward and fired off two shots—one in each head of the men I’d injured. Domenico nodded. “Thank you, Santiago.” He took a step forward, but before he could take another, his legs gave out and he crashed to the marble floor. “Fuck.” Santiago rushed forward and called the others over. They got him to his feet and walked him out to the car. “Miss,” Santiago said as I watched in horror as Domenico’s strength spilled out of him. My gaze moved away from him to Santiago. “Get him to a doctor. Fast.”

I asked, enjoying the feeling of Dante’s touch. “They went to the main house to make sure everything was progressing the way it should be, and that all the necessary items were brought here. I drew the short straw, or the best straw.” I went over to the shower bench and sat back down. All I could do was stare at Dante. Dante was about 6’5” tall, he is slightly shorter than the triplets and Benji, but not by much, he has long, lean legs with well-defined quads and calves. Dante has golden brown eyes with flecks of green, he has broad shoulders, and strong biceps. Dante has eight-pack abs, and his hip bones stick out just a little bit. He’s not skinny, he has great muscle tone, but he could us

My heart began beating rapidly, causing a ringing in my ears. “ Drums down heart. We need the money.” When the doors slid open, I almost bolted. But I didn't. Running won't feed me or bring back my mother's jewelry. Dante stood at the windows like he owned the world which, let’s be honest, he probably did. I mean, he is Dante Moretti after all. He was wearing a black shirt, its sleeves rolled up, veins lined his forearms as well as a snake tattoo. He has broad shoulders. And an ass that could make a nun reconsider her vows. When he turned, his gaze snapped me out of lustful thoughts.

But I'd been rebuilt into something stronger, something that could kill without hesitation when my family was threatened. Another soldier tried to flank me. I spun and caught him with my claws, opening his stomach from hip to ribs. His intestines spilled out in steaming loops and he fell screaming. Ahead of me, Dante fought in his full hybrid form and it was terrifying to watch. He stood nearly eight feet tall, his body massive with corded muscle beneath fur that seemed to absorb light. His claws were longer than my fingers, dripping with blood and viscera. A terrifying force of nature that decimated anyone who stood against him.

" SUV. Black. No plates." I turned in my seat. Behind us, two bright headlights cut through the darkness, gaining on us fast. "Is it Liam?" I asked, hope and fear warring in my chest. "No," Dante said, his voice hard. "It's not a pack car. It’s too big. Armored." The SUV surged forward, closing the distance. It wasn't trying to pass. It was trying to hit us. "Hold on!" Dante yelled. He swerved, the Volvo screeching as he tried to evade.

I slowly squinted my eyes open to peep, I could literarily hear my heart beat so fast, my limps were weak and my lips were quivering, hot tears were trembling to pour out of my eyes. I peeped and I saw the black monster standing in front of me in a stoic stance, "It's me" A familiar voice proceeded from the monster's mouth. Dante. His voice was hard, harder than before. I heaved a sigh of relief, and melted into the ground in that instant, my heart climbed it's way back to my chest and my breathing calmed. I opened my mouth to make a sound, but nothing came. I would have said, "You scared me".

I could tell they had a good relationship. “Yes, but she wanted to come here today,” Damien replied, smiling. Dante turned to me, and I analysed him. He is pretty buff—not a bad buff, but a good buff. Definitely bigger than Damien. I looked at his muscles, and I was amazed. It must have taken years of hard training to build all that and I see the visible scars. He is not wearing armour, just a black shirt with trousers and black boots. He has a sword wrapped around his waist, and he doesn’t have any facial hair or hair on his head. He is completely bald. I could tell he definitely doesn’t care about ever finding his mate; this is his life, and he would serve it well, honestly he has my respe

But please. The doors stay closed. Then... They burst open. The double doors slam against the walls with a sound like thunder. Every head in the room turns. A figure stands in the doorway. Tall. Powerful. Radiating fury that makes the air itself feel electric. Dante. His eyes are blazing amber. Not just flecks of gold. Full, glowing amber that says his wolf is at the surface. His suit is disheveled. His hair is wild. He looks like he ran here.

A temporary live-in assistant hired by his legal team to keep him away from reporters, alcohol, and women for six weeks while the world forgot about his latest scandal. Only, she hadn’t expected him. The door opened before she could knock. He stood there barefoot, in loose black pants and an open silk shirt that did absolutely nothing to hide the hard cut of his chest or the inked script crawling along his ribs. Dante Moreau. All six feet four inches of him. Dark eyes. Five o’clock shadow. A mouth made for sin. And entirely too amused. “You’re early,” he said, his voice rough like gravel and whiskey.