Chapter 170: The Luna Who Walked Away

Dante had always been a brutal man.

A man of war.

A man of control.

But right now?

Right now, he was fighting himself.

Fighting the need to drag her back to his bed, to claim her again, to force her to admit what they both already knew.

That she still belonged to him.

"Tell me the truth," he murmured, his fingers tightening on her skin.

"Tell me you don't want me, and I will let you go."

Bella's stomach twisted.

Because it was a trap.

A cruel, unforgiving trap.

Because she couldn't say it.

Not after last night.

Not after the way she had shattered beneath him.

Not after the way she had whispered his name like a prayer.

Not after the way her body still ached for him.

But if she admitted it—

If she gave in—

She would never leave.

Her breath came sharp and uneven.

"Dante—"

His thumb brushed her jaw.

"Say it, Bella."

She swallowed hard.

Then—

She forced herself to step back.

Dante's jaw locked.

"I can't."

It wasn't the truth.

Not really.

But it was the closest she could give him.

Because if she stayed—

If she chose him, chose this, chose them—

She would drag him down with her.

And she refused to let that happen.

Even if it destroyed her in the process.

"I am not yours anymore."

Dante's fingers tensed at his sides.

His chest rose and fell with slow, careful breaths.

Then—

"Liar."

Bella's throat burned.

But she didn't correct him.

Because they both knew the truth.

She was his.

And she always would be.

Even if she spent the rest of her life trying to outrun it.