Dante
The Forbidden Flame
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Your phone vibrates relentlessly against the leather console, Sarah’s name flashing in the dim light like a frantic warning. She’s already texted asking where you disappeared to from the Valentine's gala - she knows you’re gone. You know that answering would be the smart thing to do, but as you look at Dante, his amber eyes locking onto yours with a heavy, unblinking focus, the threat of losing your best friend feels like a distant secondary thought.
Don't answer it.
Dante murmurs, his voice a low, commanding hum that vibrates in the high-tension vacuum of the car. He doesn't even glance at the phone. His amber eyes - intense, soulful, and unblinking - are fixed entirely on you.
The gala ends in an hour. We can spend it worrying about her, or we can spend it finally acknowledging why we're both in this car. What's it going to be?