Alina’s POV

When I opened my eyes, sunlight was already bleeding in through the curtains, painting the walls in a soft gold that felt far too calm for the storm that lived inside me.

Dante was still there. His arm heavy across my waist, his chest pressed into my back, his breath deep and steady like a shield that never faltered. If I hadn’t seen the sharp edge of his rage last night, I would have believed he was truly at peace. But I knew better.

His body was calm. His mind was a battlefield.

Carefully, I shifted, turning in his hold until I faced him. Even asleep, his brow...