Page 114 of A Dagger in the Ivy

“Are you all right?”

My eyes well, but I swallow back the tears. “Torbin is unhinged. He lashed out, and I could see it in his eyes. The darkness. The malevolence.” I shake my head. “He’s not under a spell.”

Dante’s gaze is locked with mine, and there’s a sadness behind his eyes that tells me he’s already reached the same conclusion.

“Celeste, there’s something I’d like to show you.” He takes my hand in his.

I don’t question him as he leads me through the door. I follow him in silence as he guides me behind the house to a secluded spot nestled amidst the trees. There, beneath the cool shade of the branches, lies a simple yet solemn grave, adorned with weathered stones and wildflowers.

“This is my mother’s resting place.” His voice is strained, as if there’s a thickness in his throat.

I gaze at the grave, feeling my heart seize. I understand his pain. I’ve experienced it myself.

“They delivered the body to me.”

“Who did?”

“Men wearing Delasurvian colors. Not the regiment. I assumed they worked for your father.”

I swallow back the knot in my throat. “I’m so sorry.”

“I barely recognized her, she’d been beaten so badly. Her face was swollen and purple, her jaw broken and teeth missing. I wouldn’t have even known it was her if it hadn’t been for the birthmark on her ankle.”

I look down at our joined hands, guilt washing through me.

“After she died,” he continues, “I was a wreck. I was living at the castle, but she was my true home. The only person on whom I could rely after she was taken from me was Torbin. Yes, he had a temper now andthen, but so does our father. I just thought… But now…”

I squeeze his hand. He doesn’t have to finish his sentence for me to understand. Now that Torbin has deceived him, Dante has no one. Not even his father believes him, practically shunning him from his castle.

A gentle breeze blows my hair around my face, and the trickle of rain sprinkles around us.

“Celeste, I don’t blame you.” His head is dipped low, his eyes trained on the ground. “I know you had nothing to do with it. And I know now, more than ever, that we can’t be held responsible for the actions of our family.”

His words wash over me like a soothing tide, easing the burden of guilt that has weighed on my heart. I pull in a shuddered breath, pivoting to lightly stroke his arm.

We sit for minutes upon minutes, huddled together in silence. I gaze into the distance, contemplating the situation we’ve been thrown into and the feeling of no escape. Only here, sitting beside Dante, do I have some semblance of peace, however short it may be.

He turns to me, leans closer, and lifts his gaze to mine. “You can’t marry him.”

Our eyes lock in silent understanding, and the distance that has long separated us seems to fall away.

With a trembling hand, Dante reaches out to gently cup my cheek, his touch a tender caress against my skin. My heart flutters, and my breath catches in my chest. He leans forward, and my eyes drift closed as his lips brush mine. The kiss is gentle, and his lips are so soft that I can’t help but deepen the kiss, to feel the exhilaration of his mouth caressing mine.

His hands glide over my back and pull me closer. My lips part, and when his tongue slips through, heat floods through me. The world around us fades into oblivion, leaving only the echo of our beating hearts.

The kiss deepens, making me whimper. His hands begin to roam, and his mouth slides over my cheek, claiming the spot beneath my ear. I lift my chin and tilt my head to give him more access to the sensitive flesh there, and rain hits my face.

Dante pulls back, the grey of his eyes a sea of storms, and urges my body closer to his. “We should get out of the rain.”

My lids are heavy as I nod.

I expect him to turn and walk beside me into the house, but instead, his lips crash against mine, and he lifts me so that my feet dangle above the ground. He carries me with ease, our chests flush against each other, and I’m so engrossed with the kiss and the heat of his body that I don’t even realize that we’re in the house until he sets me down.

I study his face. Doubt troubles me, the pause momentarily overcoming the temptation. “Are you using your powers on me?”

His fingers trail over my bottom lip. “Highness, it’s you who’s casting a spell on me.”

His mouth replaces his fingers, supple lips caressing mine as the kiss deepens. I welcome his tongue, greeting it eagerly with my own. The heat stirring at my core erupts into an inferno.

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