"and amber-eyed demon"

The silence of the cell was almost as cruel as the voices Selene heard in her mind.

Days, weeks — or months? — had dragged on since she was thrown in there. A damp, cold, and dark space, where light only entered through the tiny cracks of a window far too high to reach. She had lost count of how many times she had whispered his name in the dark. Dante.

Her fingers slowly slid over the mark carved into the flesh of her hand. The scar still burned on fevered nights.

"Bastard…" she whispered, her voice hoarse and weak. "You said it was so I'd never forget. And I never did."

The memories came like daggers: his eyes, cold and intense; his voice, laced with threat and desire; his touch, cruel and yet… protective. Selene hated herself for wanting him. Hated herself for missing him.

A faint sob escaped her cracked lips as her back throbbed from the lashes. The guard... he laughed every time he saw her curled up, and threatened more each time she refused to obey.

She trembled, but she never yielded.

"You'll break," he had said once. "When no one comes for you. Not even that monster who marked your hand."

But he was wrong.

That night, thunder echoed in the distance. Screams. A metallic sound tearing through the silence. And then, footsteps. Steady. Heavy. Familiar.

Selene lifted her head, eyes burning with expectation, with restrained hope. The cell shook as the door was flung open. The guard raised his weapon but had no time to speak.

The blade sliced through the air like lightning. The man's head rolled onto the filthy floor, and blood splattered warm onto the stones.

Selene gasped.

At the door, covered in blood and shadows, stood Dante.

His face hardened by war, hair disheveled, clothes in tatters. But his eyes… his eyes were alive. Dangerous.

"No one," he spat the word with fury, "no one touches what's mine."

She wanted to scream. To run. To hit him. To kiss him. But she stood still, paralyzed by a mixture of fear and relief.

"Dante…" her voice broke. "Why didn't you answer my letters? Why did you leave me here?"

He didn't answer. He simply walked to her, tearing the chains away with brutal force. When he touched her bruised wrists, his fingers trembled.

"They whipped you?" he whispered, his voice thick with pain and rage. "I'll destroy everyone who allowed this."

"Don't you dare pretend you care now…" she replied bitterly. "I begged for you. I pleaded. And you were silent."

Elowen appeared in the hallway, breathless. "Dante! You're back… The war… everyone's waiting for you!"

He turned slowly.

"You knew where she was. And you did nothing."

"She was accused, Dante! I tried to warn you…"

He raised his sword. His eyes burned like embers.

"Get out of my way. Or you'll be next."

The woman stepped back, pale. Dante looked at the guards behind her, who were trembling.

"Who else knew?"

No one dared to answer. His aura seemed to suffocate the air, shadows swirling around his feet like serpents.

"You hid her letters from me?" his voice was pure threat. "Liars. Traitors. You'll all pay."

Then, he lifted her into his arms. Selene was weak, but she tried to resist.

"Put me down. I don't need you."

"Going to fight me now?" he murmured, a bitter half-smile on his lips. "When you can barely stand?"

She didn't answer. She buried her face against his chest and cried.

---

In the shadowy hall of Dante's fortress, the silence was deep. He placed her in a clean room, lit candles with the tip of his fingers using dark magic, and brought hot water. When he returned, Selene was lying on her stomach, her body covered in bruises.

He knelt beside her.

"This is going to hurt," he warned.

"I know," she replied, emotionless.

Dante wiped the dried blood from her back with a clean cloth. When she arched in pain, he paused.

"Why didn't you come sooner, Dante?" her voice held more emotional pain than physical.

He took a while to answer.

"I was in battle. Surrounded. I could only return when I destroyed everything. When I killed them all."

She turned to face him with effort.

"I hate you for leaving me."

He looked at her, his eyes darkening.

"And I hate myself for believing you'd be safe without me."

Selene grabbed the collar of his tunic.

"You broke me, Dante. Left me here to rot."

"I know," he murmured, voice low, sincere. "I saw the burned letters. They hid everything. I would've crossed hell for you, Selene. And now… I will."

She pulled him down and kissed him.

A kiss full of rage, pain, and pent-up longing. A kiss that said everything words could not. He returned it, fierce, starving. And then held her more gently, as if afraid to break her.

"I hate you," she whispered, breathless.

"Then hate me. But live. Because I destroyed an army for you. And I'd destroy the world if I had to."

She cried again. For the pain. For the love. For the war within her.

And, finally, for the certainty that she would never be able to forget him.