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A frown furrowed her brow.
“He likes to nap on the plane,” Dante explained.
Hence, no outsiders except the pilots.
“He trusts you,” Morana commented.
Dante chuckled. “As much as he can, I guess.”
The captain called out then, letting them know they were going to take off. Morana closed her eyes as the plane rumbled under her, her nerves getting shot as they always did that first moment of take-off.
This was it.
There was no turning back now.
Her presence on this flight would definitely set off a chain of events, most of which she wouldn’t even be aware of until it was too late. She knew that.
The runway became a blur.
Morana glanced out the window, taking in the city that had been her home her whole life, a finality settling upon her. She was leaving behind so many memories, mostly ones not worth keeping – her father, his house, her dead car, her spot in the cemetery, the penthouse… some dear, some not. And though she’d only known her only for a few days, leaving Amara behind left a bad taste in her mouth.
And then, they were in the air - one man off to sleep, the other still there.
Looking towards Dante, she found him considering her with his dark eyes.
“I have to admit, you surprised me, Morana,” he stated casually, inspecting her.
She raised her eyebrows. “I did?”
He nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey, offering her a glass. She declined.
He explained. “As much as I don’t approve of how you discovered the truth, I’m surprised. I had expected a lot of things when I thought about this scenario over the years… never this, though.”
“By ‘this’, you mean me tagging along to Tenebrae?”
Dante shook his head. “I mean you staying. Any other woman would have been running for the hills by now. Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done had you run. Because he would have chased you, you know.”
Morana closed her eyes for a second, her heart beating strong. “I know.”
“What are you doing, Morana?” Dante asked softly, the concern in his voice making her eyes flutter open. “As much as I love Tristan, better than my blood, I would never want him with my sister if I had one. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little worried - for both of you. There’s something very broken in him and if you’re here because you think you can fix it, I’m telling you right now, you cannot.”
Morana regarded Dante quietly, a tiny ball of anger coiling in her belly. “I’ll be honest with you, Dante. I like you. You and Amara have been incredibly kind to me, at a time when I needed it the most. And that is something I’ll always admire you for. But,” she leaned forward, flames licking her blood, “what’s between him and me is between him and me. As you told Amara last night, if he wants to tell you, he will. You won’t hear anything from me.”
She took in a deep breath, calming her temper down, reminding herself he wasn’t her enemy.
“But because your heart is in the right place,” she uttered quietly, “I will tell you this - I don’t want to fix him. I want to fix me. And he’s the only thing that seems to be working.”
“So,” Dante asked, his voice controlled, hand clenching around the glass, “you’re just using him then?”
Morana smiled. “And is he not using me? To fight whatever demons live inside him?”
Dante remained silent. They both knew the answer to that one.
Morana stared at a spot on the table, her voice going soft, her heart drumming softly inside her chest.
“His demons dance with mine,” she murmured softly, the truth of that statement seeping into her pores. “That’s all I can give you.”
She found the other man regarding her with a heavy gaze.
