Chapter 195

The torches along the courtyard still guttered as if they, too, had been shaken by what had passed.

My pulse was only just steadying when the air shifted again—this time familiar, beloved.

Dante.

This is his scent... My Dante...

He came from the treeline like a storm unchained, fur melting into skin, the great dark Lycan folding into the man I knew.

He must have heard about what happened here; m