Dantes Exam Novels & Stories

“Is that your version of thank you?” “‘Thank you’ is for waiters,” Dante said. He finally leaned forward, his hand brushing the ledger at last—but he didn’t open it. His fingers lingered on the cover, his eyes never leaving hers. “This was a test.” Valentina’s jaw tightened. “And?” Dante let the silence draw, stretching it taut, until she felt the heat of it sear through her composure. Then, at last, his mouth curved into something dangerous. “You passed.”

After the intensive series of battles, another headache welcomed them — a fucking exam. As Maleficent stepped inside the exam hall. A wide room with chandeliers hanging above the room, wide windows in the wall, dozens of desks for the examinees, and a single table for the proctor welcomed Maleficent and Damon — after all, their feats were talked around the three worlds. Though the proctor was still not present, there were a lot of students, both nobles and commoners inside the exam hall.

And this exam seems tougher than the purpose of my life. Previously, Dante assisted me in mathematics, and he once stole the paper and gave it to me, but I still didn't pass because I had the question paper with me the night before the exam, but I didn't know how to solve the questions. He didn't tell me the solution to those questions and I couldn't pass. Dante made fun of me on the day of the results because he aced it while I failed despite having the question paper with me. But if we return today, I have a mathematics exam in two days, and Angus is assisting me in teaching maths.

Adriano's grin became pure evil, "Imagine his face when he realizes Raphael is trying to turn one of those daughters into a daughter-in-law. I swear to God, Mom, if Heaven has windows, you're getting front-row seats for this one. Watching Dad's blood pressure hit the fucking ceiling would've made your entire year." Dante stared at me for another few seconds, "He's a fucking Lannister." I blinked, "A what?" Dante looked horrified, "A Lannister." I stared at him then I looked at Adriano. Adriano looked at Dante, raising an eyebrow. Dante threw his hands into the air, "How do neither of you know this?" "I'm employed," I replied. "And I have hobbies," Adriano added. Dante looked insulted, "Watch

The air tasted of salt, expensive espresso, and the lingering scent of wet acrylic. There, sitting at a long, hand-carved table of reclaimed oak, were the four ghosts who still ruled my world. Dante and Julian looked like they had finally negotiated a permanent ceasefire with time. Dante’s hair was a stark, regal white, but his shoulders remained as broad as a mountain range, his scarred hands steady as he poured a vintage Nero d'Avola for a man who had once been his greatest rival’s heir. Julian sat beside him, lean and predatory as ever, his eyes still flickering with the green digital rain of a thousand simultaneous equations. He was currently debating the "Mathematics of Aesthetic Value"

"Why am I here?" Dante dabbed his mouth with a napkin, taking his time. "Because you mistake persistence for devotion. You think that if you just try hard enough, spend enough, want enough, the universe will eventually give her back to you." He set down the napkin. "I'm here to correct the model." "By feeding me?" "By benchmarking you." Dante's lips curved in something that wasn't quite a smile. "I want to see what I'm dealing with. Whether you're a genuine threat, a temporary nuisance, or simply a cautionary tale who doesn't know the story's over yet."

I added lastly. For a moment, Dante didn’t speak. Then he shifted closer, his expression softening, like every word I said mattered more than anything else around us. “Hey…” he said gently, his voice low and steady. “Listen to me. This isn’t an exam, Jem. You’re not being judged here.” He paused, then continued again; “And Mara? What about her? She’s my niece, so you two should get along very well, right? Or is there something else you’re not telling me?” Dante asked, his gaze sharpening slightly as he studied my face.

It is obvious that there are definitely a lot of memories in this place. Dante is standing right in the middle of the square as we walk in. He has on an all black fit like he did the first time I saw him except this time it’s a military kit and his face is painted in what appears to be black charcoal. I didn’t think his aura could get more intimidating than before but it appears I was wrong. Standing there with his eyes focused entirely on me, he looks like a wild animal ready to devour what he views as prey, ME. “You came, I see you are not a coward after all.” he says, “Just a man with a death wish.” “Yes I have a death wish, but not mine.”

The door at the top of the stairs creaks open, and the first one descends… Dante is the oldest. His broad frame fills the doorway, his black T-shirt clinging to the ridges of his abs, the sleeves stretched tight around biceps that look like they could snap steel. His dark hair is slicked back, his jaw filled with stubble, and his lips curl into a slow, predatory smile as his gaze rakes over me. He doesn’t speak, not yet. He just looks, his eyes lingering on the way my chest heaves, the way my thighs tremble, the way my fingers twitch against the ropes as if I could somehow escape.

he asks as if he’s just now noticing that we’re standing here. “We’re good. What kind of job?” I ask again. “The kind where he trains my pack, and most likely several other packs, how to fight against Alpha Corey’s fighting style,” Dante says, jogging up. “Good morning.” “Good morning,” I say shyly. He leans over and presses a kiss to Dawn’s forehead. I swear she turns to him, like she wants to be closer to him. ‘Don’t we all?’ Eilie asks. I cut off her purr before it become vocal.