The first hints of dawn barely touched the horizon when Isabella stirred again, wrapped in the warmth of the cabin and Dante’s unrelenting presence beside her. Sleep had been restless, haunted by dreams she didn’t want to confront, yet she felt oddly secure, cocooned in the heat of his body. Each breath he took, deep and measured, resonated through her chest like a private rhythm she had memorized. In the quiet, the world outside seemed distant, almost unreal, yet she knew it awaited them with dangers that refused to rest.

Dante’s eyes fluttered open at the movement, the familiar intensity in his gaze immediately sharpening. “Morning,” he murmured, voice rough...