The shape of him, the way he moved, stirred a hundred wants she wasn’t allowed to have, and she knew, no matter what happened in the morning or on the day of Divorando, that she’d never forget the rasp in his voice when he was tired, the way his eyes crinkled when he was trying not to laugh, or his ridiculous proverbs for every occasion.
Was there any use in dreaming of a life beyond the battle, where Dea’s Finestra and Crollo’s ghiotte found a happily ever after?
The rocks became pebbles, pebbles became sand, and Dante waited as she slipped off her shoes, toes sinking into the slowly fading warmth of the sand. The ocean shushed them while the city sang above as she stretched her legs to match his stride, shoes dangling from her fingertips like earrings.
They slowed in unison, walking closer, until the backs of their hands brushed with every step.
Almost touching, but not quite, they stopped to stare out at the sea. It fractured in the center, the jagged outline of a distant shore breaking the horizon, one peak higher than the rest. There, at that very moment, demons were making their inexorable way to the surface.
“It’s hard to believe something so beautiful can be so deadly, isn’t it?” she asked.
She turned and found him watching her instead of the ocean.
“Yes,” he said softly. “Hard to believe.”
She held onto his gaze. No teasing tip of the head or challenging stare. No jokes. Just a girl waiting for a boy to kiss her.
And he did.
The ocean sighed with them, as though it, too, had been waiting. Dante brushed his lips against hers, lightly, questioning. As though she was just a girl and he just a boy, and the world wasn’t about to end, and she wasn’t marrying someone else in the morning.
Heat simmered, but it waited patiently, because this moment wasn’t for heat, but warmth. Not for haste, but a slow sweetness. An introduction of sorts. She knew him, and he knew her, but they didn’t know each other like this.
When he rested his forehead against hers, neither spoke. The soft thud of her heart and the brush of his thumb over her palm said everything words couldn’t.
I’m sorry.
I’ll miss you.
I hope.
I want.
“Take me home,” she said. “I want to fall asleep with you one last time.”
He dropped a lingering kiss on her lips before taking her hand.
One last night.
* * *
Her room had never seemed so small or her bed so large. Alessa gnawed on her lip while Dante kicked off his shoes, then frowned at the floor, shoeless but otherwise fully dressed.
Wonderful. Neither of them knew what to do next. Well, she assumed Dante knew something about what was to come, but the immediate next step seemed to stump them both.
Dante rubbed the back of his neck. “When you said you wanted to sleep…”
“I didn’t mean sleep,” Alessa said quickly. “I mean, sleep, too, but—”
He stepped closer and ran the pad of one thumb across her cheekbone. “You are very pink right now.”
“You’re not supposed to notice.” She pushed onto her toes, but still couldn’t reach him. “Do you have to be so tall? How am I supposed to kiss you?”
“Climb?” He bent with a laugh to kiss her.
“Do you still feel it?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious.
Dante cocked his head. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“My … my gift. What does it feel like now, when I’m not trying to use it on you?”
“Let’s see.” He tipped her chin, and his lips found hers, slowly, as though he could stretch a night into a lifetime. She responded, instantly, and his hands found her waist. His kisses deepened, until he kissed her with the urgency of a man who hoped tomorrow would never come. He pulled back, breathless. “What was the question?”
“Hmm?” She blinked, dazed.
He bit his lip, looking quite pleased with his effect on her. “I still feel that … purr … or whatever you want to call it. But I think I like it.”
“You think?”
He answered with another kiss. Unequivocally.
She could have spent a lifetime savoring the slide of his lips, the dance of his tongue, the breath they passed between them as though it was the only air left in the world, and they would both die without it. She wanted to take her time exploring every fascinating part of him, but her hands were impatient, and once they found the strip of bare skin between his pants and shirt, her palms slid beneath. His abdomen was all firm ridges and taut muscles, but his lips were full and soft.