Dante Dmc Anime Netflix Novels & Stories

The Kirin hit the muddy ground with it’s front right hoof twice then a stance; a stretched neck downward as it’s long antlers fixedly pointed to its target with it’s dragon-like face slightly contorted. Unexpectedly to Dante knowing he’s the fastest man alive, which he believed it was totally true; Pamēla was already above him, glowing with a sudden burst of energy. He slowly gasped within that space of time. “She… could see where I’m positioned?!” Staring at the mystical creature above, the rider looked down at him including the one standing behind now raising her gothic war hammer with an evil smile underneath her helmet spoke; “We got you now.” Next, a blooming sound of destructive yellow

Alex asks to switch the attention away from him. "I'm a daddy as you can see," I say pointing toward my sleeping baby in my arms. "I'm a Dom, hardcore BDSM but I do love a bit of a fight," Dante says and lick his lips. Making Alex blush again. "I'm a Dom, I'm nice unlike some people," she says eyeing Dante "Don't believe her" Dante says laughing "when she wants she can be a creature of hell" "You guys together?" he ask Dante and Ellie and things just got a lot better.

Alpha Dante and his relentless pack members had cornered me, their eyes reflecting a mixture of anger, disappointment, and the steely determination to see justice served. Alpha Dante's imposing figure cast a long shadow over me, his gaze piercing through my soul. "Danciana," he said, his voice commanding and filled with a potent blend of authority and sorrow, "you cannot evade the consequences of your actions. You have brought shame to our pack and inflicted harm upon my own daughter."

Apparently, Hunter doesn’t joke around, he taught me everything I know about being ruthless, so how ruthless is Hunter? ‘You are so fucking dead, Dante Moreno.’ I smirk through the mind-link, but he gives me a smirk of his own. ‘Let’s see who shall be dead. Enrique De Luca.’ Dante says back, and I force myself not to laugh, as long as I have Irene, Dante is going down.

Jon mumbled. "And that undisclosed buyer is me," said Dante smiling widely, his sharp teeth glistening in the dim room. "Let's see if you can guess who painted the next one." Dante walked eagerly to the next painting, his cane tapping on the wooden floor like a one-legged giant insect. He likewise turned on the pin lights and the painting exploded in colors of bright red and burnt sienna. "This painting is something I really like. Tell me what you think?" The second painting showed a half-naked man with eyes opened wide as if in a crazed state. In his hand was something that looked like a severed human arm while blood was seen dripping from his mouth. He appeared to be in a desert and faint

Her fingers brushed his cheek, still warm but pale, and something inside her cracked. Tears began to slip from her eyes—slow, silent, and heavy. She hovered over him, her chest heaving, her mind screaming. Please... don’t die on me. But across the room stood the devil himself. DANTE. Unbothered. Cold. Detached. He didn’t look at her. He didn’t even look at Damon bleeding to death. Instead, he stood before the wall like it was a gallery—staring at the photographs of her. His fingers held a cigarette lazily, smoke curling into the dim air like poison.

It echoed faintly through the lower level of the house, just enough to pull my attention away from the mental checklist running through my head. I slowed down and listened to it. The sound came from the left hallway. I hadn’t even explored that area yet. I only walked through once. The door at the end of the hallway was slightly open, and the sound was louder now but more controlled. I pushed the door open just enough to look inside. And immediately wished I hadn’t. Dante stood in the middle of the room, shirtless. Sweat beads clung to his skin, tracing the lines of his back and shoulders as he drove his fist into a heavy bag suspended from the ceiling.

“I don’t believe anything from a man who watched us bleed and said nothing.” “If you’re so sure I’m lying…” Carter’s eyes flashed, “then kill me. Right now.” Damon stepped forward, lips curled in disgust. “Too easy.” He stared Carter down like he was filth beneath his boots. “If she’s real,” Damon said coldly, “if Tatiana’s really the one pulling your strings, then let her come for you. Let her crawl through the shadows and save you.” He turned, already walking. “Prove it,” he said over his shoulder. “Or rot.”

“Dante isn’t the enemy, is he?” Damien’s eyes darkened. “No,” he said. “He’s the mirror.” ⸻ Elsewhere, Dante poured a drink, watching live feeds from the estate. “Well done,” he murmured. “Now the real war begins.” Dante Westwood

Will Dante help me? ******************************************