Chapter 71

Dante carried me through the quiet corridors of the packhouse, the aftermath of battle still echoing faintly in the distance—burning wood, whispered orders, and the rustle of healing hands. But in his arms, it felt like the world had narrowed into something simpler. Just us.

My body ached in places I hadn’t even realized I’d injured. My skin bore smudges of blood, both mine and others’, but I didn