Chapter 66 Dante
I was pacing.
Not the slow, thoughtful kind—this was the kind that burned grooves into the floor, boots striking too hard, fire restless under my skin. Lucian leaned against the edge of my desk, arms crossed, watching me like he was waiting for the moment I finally detonated.
“I told the truth,” I said for the third time, dragging a hand through my hair. “I didn’t sugarcoat it. I didn’t lie. Honesty creates trust—”
“—when the other person is ready to hear it,” Lucian cut in calmly.
I stopped pacing and rounded on him. “So I should’ve lied?”
“No,” he said immediately. “But you should’ve understood who you were talking to.”
That hit.
I exhaled hard, fire rippling down my spine. “I just wanted her to know I wasn’t manipulating her. That I wasn’t pretending. If she was human, I would’ve noticed her—but I wouldn’t have lost sleep. That’s the truth.”
Lucian tilted his head. “And what did you expect her to hear?”
I opened my mouth.
Closed it again.
“…That she matters now,” I muttered.
Lucian sighed. “She heard that she only mattered because she isn’t human.”
I turned away, jaw clenched so tight it ached. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “But intent doesn’t erase impact.”
Silence settled between us, thick and uncomfortable.
Then Lucian spoke again, softer. “Amara told me to wait.”
I looked up sharply. “She what?”
“She wants me,” he said, a faint smile ghosting his mouth. “But she asked me to wait. She wants to mate the same night you and Seraphine do.”
My fire stuttered.
“Why?” I asked.
Lucian’s gaze dropped to the floor for a moment before lifting again. “She says she sees Seraphine like a sister. That if they’re going to step into this life… she doesn’t want to do it alone.”
Something twisted painfully in my chest.
“She’s terrified,” he added. “But she’s choosing courage anyway.”
I swallowed. “And Seraphine just—ran.”
“She didn’t run,” Lucian corrected. “She shut down.”
Before I could respond, the office door flew open.
Amara stood there, breathing hard.
Blood streaked down her arm.
Lucian moved instantly. “Amara—”
“Don’t,” she snapped, shoving his hands away. Her eyes were wild, furious, terrified all at once. “Don’t touch me right now.”
My world narrowed to the red on her skin.
“Where is she?” I demanded.
Amara’s voice shook as she said it.
“Renee took her.”
The words didn’t land at first.
They hovered. Weightless. Meaningless.
Then—
She’s gone.
Something inside me shattered.
Fire roaring so violently the lights flickered. “What do you mean took her?”
“They grabbed her in the apartment,” Amara said, tears streaking through the blood on her face. “Bag over her head. She screamed. I tried to—” Her voice broke. “I tried to hold on to her.”
Lucian caught her as her knees buckled, pulling her against his chest despite her earlier protest. This time, she didn’t push him away.
I couldn’t breathe.
“She locked her dragon away,” I whispered, the realization slicing deeper than any blade. “She had no fire. No defenses.”
Lucian’s jaw tightened. “Dante—”
“She was mine to protect,” I snarled, heat spiraling out of control. “And I let her walk away.”
Lucian grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to meet his eyes. Water surged up around my fire, tempering it—barely.
“Listen to me,” he said sharply. “We will get her back. But you cannot burn the city down first.”
I shook him off, already reaching for my phone, my men, every resource I had.
“Renee just declared war,” I growled. “And this time—”
My fire flared, violent and absolute.
“She doesn’t get to hide.”
I didn’t wait.
I didn’t ask permission.
I didn’t slow down long enough for doubt to crawl in.
I went straight to the terminal built into the wall and pulled up the secure network—the one that only answered to dragon kings. My fingers moved fast, precise, fire steady now instead of wild.
SUBJECT: WAR DECLARATION — RENEE
Renee has crossed a line that cannot be uncrossed.
She has taken Seraphine from human territory.
This is an act of war.
I am retrieving her.
Interfere if you wish. Stand aside if you value your borders.
I hit send.
No flourish. No threat beyond the truth.
I didn’t wait for replies.
Behind me, Amara was shaking in Lucian’s arms, her breath hitching like she was trying not to break apart. Blood still streaked her sleeve. Rage curled low in my gut—not at her, not at Lucian
At myself.
I turned to Lucian. “Take her upstairs. Lock the penthouse down.”
“I’m coming with you,” he said immediately.
I shook my head once. “Not yet.”
He stiffened. “Dante—”
“She’s your priority,” I cut in. “Right now. You protect your mate. That’s an order, not a request.”
Lucian’s jaw clenched, torn clean in half between duty and instinct. I stepped forward and clapped a hand on his shoulder—firm, grounding.
“You come after,” I said. “When she’s safe. When she’s steady. I’ll leave a trail you can follow.”
Amara lifted her head, eyes red. “Don’t let her disappear,” she whispered.
“I won’t,” I promised her. And this time, it wasn’t bravado. It was a vow carved into my bones.
Lucian searched my face, then nodded once. “Bring her back.”
“I will.”
I was already moving—coat, keys, fire humming under my skin like a predator finally given direction.
As I crossed the threshold, the city outside felt different. Sharper. Thinner. Like the world itself knew something had been taken that didn’t belong to anyone else.
Seraphine’s apartment wasn’t far.
Close enough that Renee had wanted it personal.
That was her mistake.
I took the stairs two at a time, fire threading outward, tasting the air for anything—heat, shadow, fear, blood.
Anything she’d left behind.
Because Renee hadn’t just taken a woman.
She’d taken mine.
And I was coming for her.
I slowed the moment I crossed the threshold.
The apartment wasn’t just disturbed.
It was violated.
Chinese food lay splattered across the floor—rice crushed into the rug, red sauce smeared like fingerprints along the wall. One chair was overturned, another snapped clean at the leg. The coffee table had been shoved hard enough to gouge the hardwood.
And the blood.
Too much of it.
Dark droplets sprayed across the side of the couch. A streak along the counter. A handprint—small, shaking—dragged across the doorframe.
Amara’s, most likely.
But there was no way to be sure.
I crouched low, one hand braced against the floor, the other hovering inches from the blood like it might speak if I listened hard enough. My fire stirred, not flaring, not raging—hunting.
“Tell me,” I murmured under my breath.
Then—
I smelled it.
Heat.
Not smoke. Not flame.
Embers.
Seraphine’s.
My head snapped up, every instinct screaming at once. The scent was faint—barely there—but unmistakable. Like burned sugar and sun-warmed stone. Like something precious trying very hard not to be found.
A trail.
Thin. Careful.
Intentional.
My breath hitched.
Did she know?
Did she fight back?
Did she call her dragon again?
I followed it slowly, reverently, as if one wrong step might erase it. The embers led toward the back of the apartment—past the bathroom, past the bedroom—then toward the balcony doors.
One was cracked.
Just enough.
Cold night air bled inside, stirring the curtains.
“She left it for me,” I whispered, awe and fear tangling tight in my chest.
She hadn’t burned the place down.
She hadn’t lost control.
She’d chosen.
The realization hit harder than any blow.
Seraphine—terrified, heartbroken, human—had reached for her dragon not to destroy, but to mark a path.
For me.
My fire surged in answer, hot and furious and proud. “Hold on,” I growled, rising to my feet. “I’m coming.”