Chapter 214: A Bond That Cannot Break

Bella had surrendered.

For the first time in years, she wasn't running.

Wasn't fighting.

Wasn't trying to bury herself in the dark.

And Dante?

Dante refused to let her forget it.

She lay tangled beneath him, his body heavy with exhaustion, his grip still firm, like he thought she might slip away if he let go.

"You're still awake."

His voice was rough, edged with the kind of satisfaction that came from knowing he had won again.

Bella exhaled slowly, her fingers trailing along his forearm.

"I'm thinking."

Dante huffed.

"Don't."

Bella smirked despite herself.

"You really don't like when I use my brain, huh?"

Dante bit her shoulder—sharp enough to make her gasp, not enough to hurt.

"Not when you start overthinking things that don't need to be questioned."

Bella rolled onto her back, staring up at the wooden ceiling, her chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths.

"I don't doubt you, Dante."

"I know."

"I don't even doubt the pack anymore."

Dante was silent.

Then—

"But you still doubt yourself."

Bella swallowed hard.

Because he wasn't wrong.

She had fought so hard to get back here.

Had proven herself.

Had clawed her way out of the abyss—and won.

But she had never truly trusted herself.

Not since she had almost lost herself completely.

Dante shifted, propping himself up on one elbow, his blue eyes unreadable.

"I don't care what happened back then."

His fingers traced her collarbone, slow, steady, like he was mapping her all over again.

"I don't care what you did. What you became. The only thing I care about is who you are now."

Bella's chest ached.

Because he meant it.

Every word.

Dante had never been afraid of her darkness.

Had never tried to change her, soften her, fix her.

He had just wanted her.

And he had never stopped fighting for her.

"I don't want to lose myself again."

Dante exhaled sharply, rolling over her, pressing her into the mattress, his weight solid, unrelenting.

"Then don't."

His hand wrapped around her throat—not to restrain, not to threaten, but to hold her there, to force her to feel his presence, his dominance, his absolute refusal to let her go.

"You belong here, Bella."

His breath was hot against her lips.

"You belong to me."

Bella's pulse roared.

Because she knew.

Knew that Dante would never let her fade again.

Never let her fall alone.

Never let her walk away from him.

"Say it."

Bella exhaled, her body softening beneath him.

"I belong to you."

Dante's lips curled.

"Again."

Bella's heart pounded.

"I belong to you, Dante."

His teeth scraped her throat, his grip tightening just enough to make her breath catch.

"Damn right, you do."

Then—

He claimed her again.

And this time?

She didn't just let him.

She wanted it.

Because she was finally home.

For real.

For good.

For him.