Loss

Loss

Jess’s head throbbed as she stirred, the metallic tang of blood filling her mouth. The air was damp, heavy with the scent of old stone and iron. When she tried to move, chains rattled softly—her wrists bound to a metal pipe above her head.

Her heartbeat quickened. “H-Hello?” Her voice cracked. “Is anyone there?”

A faint echo answered her. Then footsteps. Slow. Deliberate.

From the darkness at the edge of the basement, a figure emerged—tall, calm, and eerily familiar. The dim bulb hanging above flickered once, revealing his face.

“Dante?” she whispered, disbelief flooding her voice. “You… what are you doing here?”

He didn’t answer right away. He simply stood there, eyes unreadable, the faintest shadow of guilt and calculation etched across his face.

Jess’s breathing quickened. “You… you did this? You had me kidnapped?” Her voice trembled, fear and anger mingling.

Dante stepped closer, his boots echoing softly against the concrete floor. “You weren’t supposed to see what you saw,” he said quietly, his tone low but sharp enough to make her shiver.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jess demanded, tugging at the chains. “You’re supposed to be dead! ”

“Not dead,” he interrupted smoothly, eyes glinting like silver under the dim light. “ some things are better left that way.”

Jess shook her head in disbelief. “Aria trusts you. She—she loves you. If she finds out—”

“She won’t,” Dante cut in sharply, stepping so close she could feel the chill radiating off him. “And you won’t tell her.”

Jess’s throat went dry. “You wouldn’t…”

But the look in his eyes said otherwise.

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small vial of glowing blue liquid. “I didn’t want it to come to this,” he murmured. “But I can’t risk losing her. Not again.”

Jess tried to back away, her pulse hammering. “Dante, please—”

He silenced her with a glance, the air around him seeming to darken. “You’ll forget,” he whispered. “Everything.”

And as he stepped forward, the flickering light finally went out, plunging the room into darkness—Jess’s scream echoing into the void.

The night was too quiet.

Aria stirred in bed, her hand brushing the empty space beside her. The sheets were still warm where Dante had lain, but he wasn’t there anymore. A faint unease crawled through her chest. The air felt different—thicker, as if holding its breath.

She sat up slowly, the moonlight slipping through the half-drawn curtains and painting silver streaks across the floor. Her wolf stirred restlessly beneath her skin, pacing. Something’s wrong.

“Dante?” she called softly, her voice echoing into the silence. No answer.

Pulling on her robe, she padded down the stairs, bare feet whispering against the marble. Every light in the house was off except one—the faint glow from Dante’s office. She hesitated, listening. A faint hum of static. The subtle buzz of a disconnected call.

Her heart thudded. He never left his phone on speaker.

Aria stepped closer, pressing a hand to the slightly open door. Inside, the scent of gun oil and night air mixed faintly with something else—burnt ozone, like magic barely contained. His chair was pushed back, papers scattered across the desk, a faint blue shimmer fading from the air.

“Dante…” she whispered again, a tremor running through her voice.

No reply.

Her fingers brushed the surface of his desk—and stopped on a small, silvery feather lying there. It pulsed faintly under her touch, whispering something ancient, something cold.

Her vision flickered. A flash of a basement. Chains. A woman’s terrified scream echoing in the dark.

Aria gasped, stumbling back, her chest tightening as the image vanished. “What was that?” she breathed, pressing a trembling hand to her temple.

Then—

A soft click echoed behind her.

She turned sharply, expecting Dante—only to find no one there. The door had shut on its own.

And the faint scent of smoke lingered in the air.

Jess’s eyes fluttered open to a pale, flickering light. The ceiling above her was cracked, damp, and strange. Her throat burned when she tried to breathe, and a dull ache throbbed at the back of her skull.

She blinked, confusion settling like fog. The room around her was unfamiliar—cold, with rough stone walls and a single dim bulb swaying overhead. Her wrists were bruised, though the ropes that once held her were gone.

“Hello?” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Is… anyone there?”

Silence. Only the faint hum of water dripping somewhere in the dark.

Jess tried to sit up, but dizziness struck her, sending her tumbling back against the thin mattress. Fragments of memory scattered through her mind like shattered glass—faces she couldn’t name, flashes of fear, a gun, someone shouting her name.

Then—nothing.

Her heart raced. “Who am I?” she breathed out, the words barely forming. Her hands trembled as she searched for something familiar, anything. But even her own reflection, faintly visible in a broken mirror across the room, looked like a stranger staring back.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Heavy. Slow.

Jess froze, pressing herself against the wall, breath shallow. The door creaked open, and a silhouette filled the frame—a man’s shadow, tall and unmoving.

“Who are you?” she whispered, voice trembling.

He didn’t answer. But as he stepped closer, the dim light revealed a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Finally awake,” he murmured. “Welcome back, Jess.”

Her pulse spiked. Back?

Back from where?

Jess’s heart hammered as the man stepped fully into the dim light. His boots echoed against the concrete floor, slow and deliberate, as if he wanted her to hear every step.

She shrank back, clutching the edge of the mattress, trying to steady her breath. “Wh-who are you?” she managed again, voice trembling.

He tilted his head slightly, studying her like she was a puzzle he’d already solved. “You really don’t remember, do you?”

Her brow furrowed. “Remember what?”

A small, humorless laugh escaped his throat. “Guess the hit to your head did more than I thought.”

Jess’s pulse quickened. “What did you do to me?”