Chapter 209: The Aftermath of the Fall

The Hollow One was gone.

For real this time.

Bella could feel it.

The weight that had choked her for years, the darkness that had clawed at the edges of her soul—

It was gone.

But something else had taken its place.

Something worse.

Because now there was nothing left to blame.

No curse.

No possession.

No outside force.

Just her.

Her choices.

Her sins.

Her own darkness that had never needed a monster to control it—because it had always belonged to her.

And as she sat on the edge of the bed in Dante's quarters, staring at her hands, the weight of it all crushed her.

She had almost let go.

Had almost given in.

Had almost become something Dante would have been forced to destroy.

And worst of all?

A part of her had wanted to.

The door creaked open.

She didn't look up.

Didn't need to.

She knew his scent, his presence, the way his gaze burned into her even when he wasn't touching her.

Dante stepped inside, silent, careful, too careful.

And Bella hated it.

Because he didn't do careful.

Not with her.

Not ever.

"You've been quiet."

His voice was low, rough, steady.

Bella swallowed hard.

"What is there to say?"

Dante didn't answer right away.

Then—

"Say whatever is in your head."

Bella let out a slow, bitter breath.

"I don't know if I deserve to be here."

Silence.

Sharp.

Cold.

Then—

Dante moved.

Fast.

Too fast.

One second, he was across the room.

The next, he was in front of her, gripping her chin, forcing her to look at him.

"Say that again."

Bella's pulse roared.

"Dante—"

"Say it again, Bella, so I can rip it apart."

His voice was a growl, sharp with fury, with something dangerously close to desperation.

Bella tried to turn away.

Tried to escape the weight of his gaze, of his rage, of his unwavering belief in her.

But he didn't let her.

Because Dante Rodrigo had never been good at letting go.

"You think you don't deserve to be here?" His voice was low, furious, raw.

"You think that after everything—after surviving, after fighting, after coming back to me—you don't deserve this?"

Bella's throat tightened.

Because when he said it like that, when he looked at her like that—

It sounded insane.

But she knew what she had done.

Knew what she had almost become.

Knew how close she had come to destroying everything.

"I almost let it win, Dante."

Her voice cracked.

"I almost wanted it to."

Dante's grip tightened.

"But you didn't."

Bella let out a hollow, aching laugh.

"Because you wouldn't let me."

Dante's breath was sharp, slow, controlled.

"Damn right, I wouldn't."

His thumb brushed her jaw, his touch steady, grounding, unrelenting.

"And I never will."

Bella's chest ached.

Because she wanted to believe him.

But belief had never been her strength.

And Dante?

Dante knew that.

"You are mine, Bella." His voice was low, dangerous, absolute.

"And you don't get to leave me again. Not in body. Not in mind. Not in soul."

Bella shuddered.

Because she knew.

This wasn't just a promise.

It was a warning.

Because Dante had brought her back.

And if she ever tried to fade again—

He would drag her back himself.

No matter what it took.