Dantes Fire Novels & Stories

Annie's scream was pure anguish. "DANTE!" Brie rushed forward, but the heat was too intense. She couldn't get close. Onika tried to reach Killian, but the flames formed a barrier, forcing her back. Peggy's hands shot up, and water magic exploded from her palms in a torrent. She doused Killian first—the water hissing violently as it hit the flames—then Dante. The fires died. But the damage was catastrophic. Killian's shirt was burned away completely, revealing red burns across his chest and arms. Some patches were already blistering. Dante was worse—third-degree burns on his back and shoulders, the skin blackened in places.

“You look like you saw an actual demon.” “Close enough,” I rasp. “He’s alive.” “Who is?” she asks, then her brain catches up. “No. No way. Don’t tell me—” “Dante,” I say. The syllables feel like glass in my mouth. Her fingers clamp around my forearms. “The Dante? Rooftop‑wine Dante? Slept‑on‑a‑mattress‑on‑the‑floor Dante?” “The one who left a note and ‘died in a fire’ Dante,” I say. I almost laugh; it comes out like a choke. “Apparently rumors of his death were greatly exaggerated.”

Dante had rigged the warehouse with explosives. “No!” Fabio shouted, lunging forward. But it was too late. Dante pressed the button, and the world exploded in a blinding flash of light and sound. The force of the blast threw Fabio backward, the heat and pressure overwhelming him as the entire building shook. He hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the air from his lungs.

"Think about the proposal. Please. I'll call you tonight." "Dante, wait—" But he was gone, the door closing behind him with a soft click that felt like a wall slamming into place. Elena stood alone in his office, surrounded by architectural dreams and unanswered questions, her cheek still warm from his touch. Something was wrong. Something beyond business emergencies and urgent calls. She'd seen it in his eyes, that flash of something dark and dangerous. Who was Dante Salvatore, really? Her phone buzzed. A text from Sarah: Turn on the news. South Side warehouse fire. Multiple casualties. Some of Miguel's old crew.

He spared a brief glance to Gianna to say, “Excuse me if I didn’t have time to stop and look for the key, considering the shit show going on outside.” Behind Sal, Gianna could see an anxious Ezekiel nearly bouncing off his feet. And there were a dozen, unrecognizable men just beyond that. “What’s going on?” Dante asked immediately. “Get dressed!” Sal shouted, spinning on his feet. “Get down to the car! And leave your girlfriend here!” Sal dashed off and Ezekiel , with a white face, said, “Everything three blocks into the West end is on fire.” Dante was already running back towards the bedroom, and Gianna stood there a bit stupidly, stunned.

I joined him, tossing bottles of accelerant across the warehouse floor. Renzo and Nathaniel dragged crates of ammunition out before lighting the rest. The flames climbed like living things, angry, wild, unstoppable. By the time we stepped out, the whole port was a canvas of destruction. And for the first time all night, I breathed. Dante stood beside me, shirt open at the collar, hands stained with soot and gunpowder. He looked at the wreckage like it was art. His art. Ours. He reached out, tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers brushing down my cheek.

She spotted Leo, safe in a woman’s arms. Raven! she called. Raven turned. She was filthy, bloodied, but alive. Told you I’m hard to kill. Dante pushed himself up and stared at the Romano Plaza. The East Wing was on fire. Sirens wailed as fire trucks rolled in. Is it over? June squeezed Dante’s hand. Dante’s eyes looked hollow. He glanced at the folder she’d clung to through everything. For them? Maybe, he said. But for us? We just learned our whole lives are a lie.

For a split second, his body stayed upright, then his knees buckled beneath him as he collapsed to the floor. I looked down at the blood pooling beneath him for a brief second, then shifted my gaze back to the others. Their faces had changed now. The confusion was gone. All that remained was fear. **** Outside, I lit a cigar, the flame briefly lighting the edge of it before I took a slow drag. Smoke filled my lungs as my eyes narrowed on the city stretched out before me. My city. "The men are ready," Dante said after a few minutes had passed. "Just give the word and we'll tear through the Sartori bastards before sunrise. We'll burn their fucking clan to the ground. Every route, every man, ev

Dante yelled “You did what?” Dell asked, and Dante began to shift back on his seat “Jade, Zack you both should save me please” Dante pleaded but instead Dell dragged him to himself “I swear to kill you if you didn't pick a hundred fireworks when we get to that mall” After driving for some time we finally got to the mall and got to the section of the fireworks “Now begin to pick” Dell said to Dante who was now carrying so much fireworks than he could “Is that not heavy?” Zack asked and wanted to him but a glare from Dell sent him back, I couldn't hold back my laughter,

Cassian said, stepping up beside him. “No,” Dante replied. “She’s becoming.” “What?” He smiled faintly. “The fire didn’t destroy her. It clarified her.” Cassian tilted his head. “So what now?” Dante looked up at the stars. “Now? Now we find out if love really can survive fire.”