10: A Monster’s Wrath

10: A Monster’s Wrath
A vampire’s rage is a deadly thing.

Isabella’s POV  

Dante’s silver-blue eyes gleamed in the dim light, full of dark amusement, like he had been here for hours, just watching.

A chill ran down my spine as I yanked the sheets tighter around me, my heart pounding against my ribs. The room felt smaller, the air too thick to breathe. There had been no sound, no warning. The doors had remained locked. The security system was impenetrable. Luca's penthouse was a fortress, a cage designed to keep threats out—and me in.

And yet, Dante was here.

Calm. Unbothered.

And very, very dangerous.

"What the hell are you doing here?" My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I refused to let the fear seep through.

Dante tilted his head slightly, eyes gleaming with quiet amusement as if I were an amusing puzzle he had already solved. His presence was a quiet, calculated mockery, his every movement deliberate, controlled.

"I was curious," he murmured, his voice smooth, effortless. "I wanted to see how long it would take before you realized."

The blood in my veins turned to ice.

He had been here. Watching.

A fresh wave of shame and fury burned through me as I thought of Luca, of what had just happened between us. The way he had touched me. Owned me. The way I had let him.

Dante had seen it all.

"Get out," I hissed through clenched teeth.

He sighed, moving forward with that unnatural grace of his. There was something inhuman about it, like a predator who had long grown bored of his prey.

"You should be thanking me, dolcezza," he said, voice rich with amusement. "I could have stopped him."

A shiver crawled up my spine, but I held my ground.

His words weren’t meant to reassure me. They were meant to humiliate me.

He knew what Luca had done.

Worse, he knew how much I had wanted it.

Dante's smirk deepened as if he could read my thoughts, as if he knew every twisted desire I was trying to suppress. He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving mine.

"Tell me, Isabella," he purred. "Did you enjoy it?"

The sound of my palm meeting his cheek cracked through the silence.

Dante didn’t flinch.

Didn’t move.

He only smiled wider.

Then—a voice like ice, cutting through the air like a blade.

"Step away from what’s mine, Salvatori."

My breath caught.

Luca.

\------------------
Luca’s POV

The scent of Dante’s presence hit me the moment I entered the penthouse, thick and taunting, staining the air like rot. And when I saw him—standing too close to Isabella, his scent mingling with hers—something ancient and merciless awoke inside me.

Rage.

It was not human. It was not rational. It was something primal, something that had existed long before I ever knew her name.

I moved before I had time to think.

In less than a second, I was across the room, slamming Dante into the marble wall so hard that the entire penthouse trembled from the force.

The impact cracked through the silence, the sharp scent of blood filling the air as a thin trickle ran down the corner of his mouth.

Dante only laughed, a slow, mocking sound, as if he had been waiting for this.

"Temper, temper, Devereaux," he taunted, wiping the blood from his lips with the back of his hand.

My grip around his throat tightened until I felt the bones beneath his skin shift.

"You broke into my home," I growled, my voice laced with something dark and lethal. "Touched what belongs to me."

Dante’s smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it deepened.

"Maybe she wanted to be touched."

I saw red.

A snarl tore from my chest as I hurled him across the room, the sound of shattering glass and splintering furniture following in his wake.

Dante landed in a crouch, blood dripping from his fingers as he straightened, rolling his shoulders like this was nothing more than a game.

"Finally," he mused, grinning through the blood staining his teeth. "I was wondering when I’d see the real you."

\--------------

The fight was nothing but destruction.

Fangs bared. Claws unsheathed.

Flesh tore. Blood painted the walls.

We moved too fast for human eyes to follow, bodies colliding with enough force to crack the very foundation of the penthouse.

Dante was strong. Fast.

But I was stronger.

This wasn’t about dominance.

This was about possession.

And I would tear him apart before I ever let him take her from me.

Dante twisted out of my grasp, his breath uneven, but his smirk still intact.

"Does she even know?" he taunted, dodging my next strike.

I hesitated for half a second.

And Dante saw it.

His smile widened as he wiped the blood from his chin.

"You’re keeping secrets, Luca," he mused, his voice almost pitying. "Big ones."

I lunged again.

But before my hands could reach him—he vanished.

\----------------

The silence that followed was deafening.

The penthouse was destroyed. Glass crunched beneath my boots.

Blood stained the marble floor. The walls bore the evidence of a battle that had nearly reduced this place to rubble.

And then I saw her.

Isabella.

She stood there, breath unsteady, her eyes locked onto mine.

There was no fear in them.

Only something else. Something that set my blood on fire.

I moved.

Before she could react, I grabbed her, shoving her against the nearest wall, caging her in.

"You think you can run from me?" My voice was low, unrelenting.

She gasped as I pressed closer, my grip tightening at her waist.

"You think you can let another man touch you?"

Her lips parted, but I didn’t let her speak. I crushed my mouth against hers, stealing the words before they could form.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was raw, demanding.

Pure possession.

Her fingers clawed at my shirt, her body melting against mine, her resolve shattering beneath the force of my need.

I pulled away just enough to let my lips hover over her throat, to feel the frantic pulse hammering beneath her skin.

"You belong to me," I rasped, my voice dark with promise. "Say it."

She was trembling, her breath uneven, her body pliant beneath mine.

"I—"

My fangs scraped against her skin, a silent warning.

"Say it, dolcezza."

Her resistance crumbled.

"I belong to you," she whispered.

Satisfaction surged through me, raw and unrestrained.

Then—I sank my fangs into her throat.

She cried out, her body arching into mine as I claimed her in the only way I knew how.

Completely.

\--------------------

She collapsed against me, breathless, shaking.

My arms tightened around her as I pressed my lips against her ear, my voice barely above a whisper.

"You’ve always been mine, Isabella."

I felt her shiver, her pulse quickening beneath my lips.

"Even before you were born."