Dante Inferno Book Summary Novels & Stories

"Yes, Dakota. And it's been a journey worth taking. We've overcome so much." Dante, once a formidable force of darkness, had been held accountable for his sins. The punishment he had faced had not only brought about his own redemption but also served as a symbol of the supernatural world's commitment to justice and rehabilitation. His journey toward redemption was ongoing, but he had willingly embraced it, driven by a desire to make amends for the past.

I certainly didn’t feel like this before I was ambushed. “It’s just a mild sedative and some concoction that has been passed down through generations… it stops you from shifting. I honestly had no idea if it would work,” He continued on, taking a step back, as if examining me. “but by the looks of you… it did…. We call it Inferno. I’m sure you can guess why.” He looked down on me as if he expected me to answer. My eyelids are heavy, so I close them as he continues to speak. “The word Inferno is said to have come from the Latin Language. A word used to describe the lower world, or the lower parts of Hell. Fire.” I licked my lips, feeling the split skin against my tongue. What is that, blood I

I grabbed her chin between my thumb and forefinger, pulling her face to mine as I breathed undiluted madness and despair into her. She wrenched her face loose from my fingers and screamed as she writhed in pain, falling forward out of the chair, making me move back. I stepped over her thrashing body while I looked down on her writhing body, as I squatted next to her. “Only you can stop the agony and despair now, just give me what I want. Give me the Fire Element or die slowly and painfully.” I chuckled as I stood up and walked away toward Antone. He was already waiting for me in the corridor outside his study. I could hear the screams of agony as I closed and locked the door of the study.

There was no hint of recognition in his fiery eyes as he glared at us, only mindless rage. But of course, he didn't recognise us. He was no different from a mindless animal in this state, driven purely by instinct and fury. Dante belonged to a species of demons whose anger fuelled their strength. The angrier they got, the stronger they became, and of course, they just happened to have very short fuses to complete the whole package. A deadly combination.

Dante’s voice echoed through the silent hall, heavy with a gravity that made the books on the shelves seem to vibrate. “I found more than I was ready to face,” Helena replied, standing up and holding the notebook against her chest. “My surname is in these books, Dante. My mark is on the stones in the forest. Why didn’t you tell me?” Dante walked toward her, his steps heavy and deliberate across the wooden floor. He stopped just a few inches away, the scent of leather and rain enveloping her like a cloak.

(Holy shit. I collapsed against him, trembling, my thighs slick, my chest heaving. “You’re—insane.” He chuckled, withdrawing his fingers slowly, almost reverently, before slipping them into his mouth and tasting me. I gawked. “You did not just—” His smirk was lethal. “Deliziosa.” (Delicious.) Heat flamed my face. “You’re disgusting.” “You came twice in my hand, princess. Don’t pretend you didn’t love it.”

“Thank you, Dante.” I sat still in my chair like my future had not just been decided. The food I was trying to swallow lurched forward and suddenly tasted like paper. My fork moved and the food found its way to my mouth but I couldn't taste anything anymore. His eyes were still on me. I didn't dare to look back but I hated how it made me feel. It was too close to sin. Dante shouldn't make me feel this way. He was family but unfortunately, the delicious lick in my stomach didn't know that.

Dante’s face came into focus—smudged with dust, eyes wild with fear and determination. “You okay?” Dante whispered. Aiden nodded weakly. “Dante… you could’ve been crushed.” “Worth it,” Dante breathed, brushing his thumb across Aiden’s cheek. “I’m not losing you. Not here. Not ever.” Aiden leaned forward, forehead touching Dante’s. The canyon trembled faintly once more… then fell still. Aiden whispered, “The storm is dying. It burned itself out.” Dante closed his eyes in relief. “Good. Because that was hell.”

“I thought I lost you. I thought the binder was too late.” Dante slowly raised a trembling hand, his fingers clumsily brushing a strand of wet hair from her face. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs—a frantic, uneven rhythm, but it was beating. The agonizing, localized burning of the necrosis was fading, replaced by the profound, hollow exhaustion of a man who had just clawed his way out of his own grave. “You’re terrible… at apologies,” Dante breathed, closing his eyes for a brief, agonizing second.

“Dante! No! No, no, no!” Bianca screamed, her voice tearing at the humid night air. Dante hit the dirt like a felled oak. The sound was flat and heavy, a dead weight that shook the ground beneath her knees. He didn't groan. He didn't gasp. His body just gave up. Bianca lunged forward, catching his head before it cracked against a protruding root. Her hands disappeared into the sudden, terrifying heat of his back. It was wet. Soaking. The copper tang of fresh blood filled her nose, drowning out the scent of the burning mansion.