Chapter 27: A War Between Us

Bella had never felt so suffocated.

The mate bond was everywhere, sinking into her skin, coiling around her soul, a chain she couldn't break, no matter how much she fought.

Her wolf, Luna, whined inside her mind, restless, aching, demanding to return to Dante.

"We're not going back," Bella growled, gripping the edge of the riverbank, her nails digging into the damp earth.

"You're hurting yourself," Luna whispered.

Bella clenched her teeth.

It didn't matter.

Dante had taken her choice away.

Had forced the bond on her.

And now, she was expected to just accept it?

No.

Fuck that.

But even as she sat there, breathing heavily, trying to ignore the fire in her veins, she could feel him.

Dante.

His anger.

His frustration.

His own struggle with the bond, the same war raging inside him that was consuming her.

It was a cruel trick of fate, binding them together but leaving them both drowning.

"Damn you, Dante," she whispered, her chest tightening, her body betraying her with how much she still wanted him.

But she wasn't going to give in.

Not yet.

Not until she made him suffer for what he'd done.

Dante's Torment

Dante stood at the edge of the packhouse balcony, his hands braced on the railing, his entire body tense.

His wolf, Zephyr, was thrashing inside him, demanding one thing.

"Go to her."

Dante clenched his jaw. "She needs time."

"She needs you."

Dante exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair.

He was feeling every ounce of the bond's wrath.

His mark on her had solidified the connection, made it permanent.

And yet, she was still resisting.

Still holding back.

And it was driving him insane.

He had never wanted anything more than he wanted Bella Santos.

And now that he had her?

She was slipping through his fingers.

"She should be in our bed, not out there suffering alone," Zephyr growled.

Dante's chest tightened.

Because his wolf was right.

Bella was hurting.

And so was he.

But he had no idea how to fix this.

The Confrontation

Bella had just reached the pack's training grounds, needing a distraction, needing anything to keep her from thinking about him.

But the moment she stepped into the clearing—

She felt him.

Before she even saw him.

Heat rushed through her veins, the mate bond surging like a living thing as Dante stepped out of the shadows.

Her breath caught.

Because fuck, he looked dangerous.

His broad shoulders were tense, his blue eyes burning, his dark hair disheveled as if he hadn't slept.

His wolf was right there beneath the surface, his dominance pressing down on the air like a storm ready to break.

"You've been avoiding me," Dante said, his voice low, rough, vibrating with barely restrained fury.

Bella lifted her chin, masking the way her body betrayed her.

"You noticed?" she mocked.

Dante let out a dark, humorless chuckle.

"You think you can run from this, Bella?" He stepped closer, his voice dropping into something dangerous, possessive.

"You're mine now. Fighting the bond is only going to make it worse."

Bella's nails dug into her palms.

"You mean the bond you forced on me?" she shot back, her golden-brown eyes blazing with anger.

Dante stilled.

"I gave you time, Bella."

"Not enough." Her voice shook with fury.

"So what, you're going to punish me now?" Dante's lips curled into a slow, lethal smirk.

Bella stepped forward, closing the space between them, her heartbeat hammering in her ears.

"I don't need to punish you, Dante." Her voice was low, taunting, dripping with venom.

"Because the bond is already doing it for me."

Dante's eyes darkened.

Because she was right.

He could feel it.

The same torment she was feeling.

The same pain, the same unbearable need.

"You can fight me all you want, Bella." Dante's voice was a rough whisper, his breath hot against her skin.

"But in the end—"

His fingers wrapped around her wrist, pulling her against him, their bodies colliding, the heat between them unbearable.

"—you'll always come back to me."

Bella shivered, her breath hitching, her pulse pounding.

Because deep down, she knew he was right.

But she wasn't ready to admit it.

Not yet.

Instead, she smiled—slow, defiant, reckless.

"Let's test that theory, shall we?"

And then—

She shoved him away and walked past him.

Dante let out a low, predatory growl, his fists clenching at his sides.

Because this war between them?

It was far from over.