Chapter 8: The Fire Inside

Dante's Struggle

Dante ran.

His massive black wolf, Zephyr, tore through the forest at an inhuman speed, his powerful muscles coiling and releasing as he pushed himself forward. But no matter how fast he ran, he couldn't escape it.

Her scent.

It was everywhere.

Wildflowers and honey. Sweet and intoxicating, designed to break him.

Designed to drive him insane.

His claws dug into the earth as he leaped over fallen trees, his breath coming in sharp, ragged pants. His blood burned with something uncontrollable, something primal.

He was losing control.

His wolf howled in his head, snarling, clawing at his mind.

"Go back to her."

Dante growled in frustration, his chest heaving as he forced himself to keep running.

He needed distance. He needed space.

But the farther he got from her, the worse the pain became.

His body ached, his muscles tense and fevered. He could feel the mate bond like a chain wrapped around his throat, tightening with every breath.

His wolf snapped at him again.

"You are an Alpha. You do not run from your mate."

Dante skidded to a halt, his claws digging deep into the ground. His breath came out in sharp, heavy exhales. He couldn't fight this.

No matter how much he wanted to, no matter how much he hated it, his body was betraying him.

His mind screamed to reject her, to end this before it consumed him completely.

But his body?

His body wanted to claim her.

His hands curled into fists as he shifted back into human form, his naked body slick with sweat despite the cool night air.

"Damn it."

The only thing worse than the bond itself was the fact that he knew exactly where she was.

And he knew that if he didn't get to her soon, he would lose his mind completely.

Bella's Resistance

Bella stood at the edge of the river, her bare feet sinking into the damp earth.

She had come here to breathe, to think—but there was no escaping this.

Her body felt wrong.

Her skin burned, her pulse pounded in her throat, and every breath she took was filled with his scent.

Dante.

She hated him. She hated the way he looked at her like she was a mistake. She hated that he had rejected her without hesitation.

But most of all, she hated that she still wanted him.

"Luna," her wolf whispered. "He's coming."

Bella's stomach clenched.

A deep growl rumbled behind her, sending a sharp jolt through her spine.

She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

Dante.

Her body reacted instantly, her breath hitching, her skin breaking out in goosebumps.

His scent—smoke, cedar, and raw power—wrapped around her like a physical force, demanding submission.

But she would not submit.

She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she turned to face him.

And God help her—he looked dangerous.

His broad, muscular body was bare, his sweat-slicked skin glowing under the moonlight. His dark hair was damp, his sharp jaw clenched so tightly it looked like he was ready to snap.

But it was his eyes that made her heart stutter.

They weren't just blue.

They were wild.

Predatory.

He was barely holding himself together.

Dante took a slow, deliberate step forward, his muscles tense, his breath uneven.

The air between them crackled, thick with something primal and untamed.

"You feel it, don't you?" his voice was rough, deep, almost a growl.

Bella swallowed hard, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

She would not give him the power to control this.

To control her.

But she didn't need to speak—her body betrayed her.

Her nipples hardened beneath her thin tank top, her thighs clenched instinctively. She could feel the wet heat pooling between her legs, a shameful reaction she couldn't control.

Dante's nostrils flared, his fists clenching at his sides.

He knew.

He could smell it.

And that was all it took.

He moved.

Faster than she could react, he was on her, his hand fisting in her hair as he backed her against the nearest tree, his massive body caging her in.

Bella gasped, her fingers flying up to press against his rock-hard chest, but he didn't let her push him away.

He was too strong. Too big.

Too much.

His other hand came up, wrapping around her throat—not to choke her, but to keep her still.

To remind her who was in control.

Her breathing was ragged, her heart hammering against her ribs.

"Say it," Dante growled, his forehead pressing against hers.

Bella's lips parted, but no words came out.

Because she couldn't lie to him.

She wanted this.

She hated him—but she wanted him more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.

Dante's grip tightened slightly around her throat, his eyes blazing.

"Tell me you don't want this, and I'll walk away," he whispered, his lips a breath away from hers.

Bella's entire body shook.

Her pride screamed at her to push him away. To tell him to go to hell.

But her body?

Her body was starving for him.

And when his lips finally crashed against hers, she shattered.

She moaned against his mouth, her fingers digging into his chest as he devoured her—his tongue sweeping into her mouth, owning her, ruining her.

It was brutal. Unforgiving.

There was no softness in the way he kissed her.

It was a war—a battle for dominance.

And God help her, she was losing.

Dante growled against her lips, his hands roaming her body, gripping, exploring, taking.

Her tank top was suddenly gone, tossed aside like it was nothing. His hands found her bare breasts, his thumbs flicking over her hardened peaks, drawing a ragged gasp from her lips.

"Fuck," he groaned, his forehead dropping to her shoulder. "You drive me insane."

Bella's head fell back against the tree, her body arching into him.

She could feel him—all of him.

The thick, pulsing heat of his arousal, pressing against her through his pants.

A sharp pang of need shot through her, making her thighs clench around him.

Dante cursed, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her against his hardness, grinding against her in a slow, deliberate roll.

She nearly came undone right there.

But just as fast as it started—he stopped.

Dante pulled back suddenly, his breathing harsh and uneven.

His hands trembled as he took a step away from her, his entire body strung tight.

"I can't," he growled, his voice filled with raw frustration.

Bella's heart pounded.

And then, he said the one thing that broke her completely.

"I will not be your mate."