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“Is he dead?”
No answer.
“Dante—”
“Yes,” he finally says quietly. His eyes lock with mine. “He’s dead.”
My throat bobs heavily, and I don’t realize my fingers are curling to claws against his chest until his hand lands gently on mine.
“Talk to me, Tempest,” Dante murmurs, tilting my chin up so my eyes meet his.
“I’m…” My lips curl into a surprised smile. “I’m okay.”
The second I say it, I realize exactly how true it is. I’m not merely okay. I’mfree—free of that nightmare of a night. Free of the past still clawing at my heels.
What happened still happened.
But now, the monsters are all gone.
Dante’s just slain the last of them for me.
Dante’s brow furrows a little, and I already know the question hovering on his lips.
It still blows my mind that I told him about what happened to me. I’ve never told anyone about that night, aside from my brothers and Taylor. I never imagined Iwouldtell anyone else.
Shame. Fear of being judged. Fear of reliving it by talking about it. But with Dante, it just sort of…fell out.
It wasn’t forced. It wasn’t something I felt Ihadto do. And, weirdly, telling him didn’t shove me back into that darkness. It opened the blinds and let the light in, banishing the shadows.
Letting him into the worst parts of my past felt like opening my soul for him to wrap his hands around it. Which should terrify me. And yet, it doesn’t. Instead, it’s like a weight’s been lifted from my chest.
Dante’s brow creases. “Was he…”
I whisper it out. “He was the second of the two who killed Nina.”
And Dante already has the other ring, the one with mismatched eyes, from the guy who choked her life away. I allow it to truly sink in: all three of the monsters from that night are dead now.
My lip retreats between my teeth as I glance up at him again, my brows furrowing. “Can I ask you something?”
He nods, pushing a lock of dark hair back from my face.
“Why did you do it?” I say softly.
“What, kill him?”
“Yeah.”
He frowns. “You’re mywife, Tempest,” he murmurs darkly, his eyes flashing.
Heat sizzles in my core.
“Well, yeah, but…” I look away. “C’mon, Dante. It’s…I mean,I’ma temporary prop?—”
He pulls me up, clasping my face in his hands, his eyes burning hotly into my own. “Is that what you still think this is?”
Before I can answer, I’m moaning softly as his lips bruise mine.
“Do you really think I’d just kill for anyone, little hurricane?” He growls. “For aprop?”
