"Always a dog, wagging your tail, barking on that bastard’s order. How long till you are nothing but just dust sticking to his shoes, huh?" His hand moves to wipe the blood from his torn lip, a defiant glint in his sharp hazel eyes.

Dante meets Silas's gaze with a steely depth, his expression betraying none of the fatigue that weighs heavily on his shoulders. Despite the chaos surrounding them, both of them exuded a sense of power and control.

The tension between the two was almost palpable. Dante knew Silas was trying to provoke him. Bottom of Form

Dante's heart pounded in his chest like a drumbeat of impending...