Seeing Dante struggle with his Lycan was painful to watch. It felt like a dagger stabbing at my heart. 

Dante seemed to be stuck in his half-shifted form after forcing the shift away from his Lycan, but he also seemed to be losing the battle. He was barely recognizable as Dante, and the look in his eyes was one of desperation. 

His fists were clenched so tightly that his claws were digging into his hand, making blood drip down to the forest floor. 

He snarled at me again, took one staggering step forward, then forced himself to go back. 

"Kira..." His eyes met mine, pleading. "Go." 

Even if I wanted...