Grasping my hand tightly, attraction seems to flutter between us after a day of silence. We say nothing more, Dante leading the way out of the house, and into his car. I wonder where Lightning is being treated, expecting him to be somewhere in the pack house.
Waiting for the gates to open, Dante steers the vehicle down the dark lane, turning immediately. He ignores the main road leading out of the territory, driving down an inconspicuous path. Tall trees hang over, creating a makeshift tunnel and shrouding us in darkness. Within seconds, we appear on the other side.