The first light of dawn barely penetrated the thick canopy of the forest, leaving Isabella and Dante cocooned in a dim, almost sacred glow. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and moss, mingling with the lingering warmth of their bodies pressed together in the small clearing. Neither had slept through the night, though exhaustion had intermittently claimed them, surrendering to moments of stolen, tangled slumber. The proximity of danger beyond the trees had not allowed for comfort, but it had amplified every intimate sensation between them, heightening every glance, every touch, every whispered word.

Isabella stirred first, eyelids fluttering open to the steady rhythm of Dante’s...