Chapter 29: Taken

The forest was eerily silent as Bella walked through the northern border, her steps slow, deliberate.

She needed space.

Time.

Anything to keep her from marching right back to Dante and giving in to the bond that was already clawing at her from the inside out.

The problem was, she could still feel him.

No matter how much distance she put between them, the bond was there—pulling, tightening, demanding.

Her wolf, Luna, whimpered inside her mind.

"Go back to him. We need him."

"No," Bella growled, shaking her head.

She wasn't ready.

She wasn't going to make this easy for him.

Dante Rodrigo had taken her choice away, had forced this bond on her, and now?

Now, he was going to have to work for every inch of her.

If he thought he could mark her and expect her to fall at his feet, he was wrong.

A sharp breeze rushed through the trees, making the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

Something felt… off.

Bella stiffened, her senses sharpening as she listened to the wind.

The forest had gone too quiet.

Luna growled softly.

"We're not alone."

Bella's fingers twitched toward the dagger strapped to her thigh, her breath steadying.

She took another step forward—

Then stopped.

A scent hit her like a warning bell.

Not Dante.

Not White Moon.

Something darker.

Something deadly.

Indiana Park.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

And then—

A low, menacing growl rumbled from behind her.

She spun around—too late.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around her from behind, an iron grip locking around her throat.

Bella lashed out, snarling, her elbow slamming into her attacker's ribs.

The grip loosened just enough for her to twist—

And she saw him.

Mikhail Reznov.

The brother of the Beta she and Dante had killed.

His blue-gray eyes gleamed with cold amusement, his lips curling into a wicked grin.

"Well, well," Mikhail mused, his grip tightening again. "If it isn't the Alpha's pretty little mate."

Bella snarled, her wolf snapping inside her.

She ripped free from his hold, spinning on her heel and kicking him hard in the chest.

Mikhail stumbled back, laughing.

"Feisty. No wonder Dante's obsessed with you."

Bella gritted her teeth, her pulse pounding as she reached for her dagger.

"If you think I'm going down without a fight, you're fucking mistaken."

Mikhail's smirk widened.

"Oh, we were hoping you'd fight."

And then—

They attacked.

The Battle in the Woods

They came from the shadows, a group of at least six warriors, all of them Indiana Park's finest.

But Bella wasn't afraid.

She was angry.

She had spent weeks fighting Dante, fighting herself, fighting this bond.

And now, these bastards thought they could just take her?

No.

They would bleed first.

Bella moved fast, dodging the first attack, twisting out of the way as a rogue's claws swiped through empty air.

She grabbed the nearest warrior by the collar of his shirt, yanking him forward and slamming her knee into his gut.

He grunted, doubling over.

She didn't stop.

She spun, slashing her dagger across another attacker's arm, drawing blood.

A deep snarl tore from her throat as she dropped low, sweeping another warrior's legs out from under him.

Mikhail watched, grinning.

"You're good," he admitted.

Bella bared her teeth. "I'm better."

Mikhail chuckled.

"Maybe. But you're still outnumbered."

Bella's blood turned cold.

Because he was right.

One of the warriors came up behind her, slamming something hard against the back of her head.

Pain exploded through her skull.

The world tilted.

Her vision blurred.

No.

Not like this.

She tried to fight, tried to push through the dizziness, but her body wouldn't respond.

Another hit.

Then another.

And then—

Darkness.

Dante's Instincts Snap

Dante had been pacing the packhouse, restless, angry, barely keeping his wolf in check.

Something was wrong.

He could feel it.

The mate bond was twisting inside him, tightening like a wire pulled too tight.

Then—

Pain.

A sharp, brutal agony in his skull, making him stagger, gripping the desk for balance.

His wolf, Zephyr, howled inside him.

"She's in danger."

Dante's chest heaved, his vision going red.

Then—

The bond snapped.

Not broken.

Not gone.

But severed.

Like she had been ripped away from him.

Dante's entire body locked up.

His breath hitched.

And then—

He roared.

The entire packhouse shook with the force of his rage, his growl echoing through the halls.

Chase burst into the room, his face pale.

"What the fuck was that?"

Dante's head snapped up, his blue eyes glowing with pure, unfiltered rage.

"They took her." His voice was low, deadly.

Chase's eyes widened.

"Who—?"

Dante didn't answer.

Because he already knew.

Indiana Park.

Viktor Drakov.

They had his mate.

And if they thought he was going to sit back and do nothing—

They were about to learn what happens when you take something from Dante Rodrigo.

He turned on his heel, striding toward the door.

"Dante—wait. We need a plan!" Chase called after him.

But Dante was already shifting.

His massive black wolf erupted from his skin, his claws digging into the earth, his snarl shaking the ground.

There was no plan.

There was only war.

And Dante Rodrigo?

He was about to burn Indiana Park to the fucking ground.