The forest was quiet now, almost deceptively calm after the chaos of the previous night. Sunlight filtered through the thick canopy in fractured beams, casting fleeting patterns of gold across the damp earth. Dante led the way, alert, every muscle taut with anticipation. Isabella followed closely, the warmth of him still lingering from the night, her skin remembering every touch, every heated kiss, every whispered word that had left her breathless and trembling.

Their journey was slow, cautious, but there was an undeniable current between them—a tension that neither could ignore. Every brush of skin, every accidental touch as they navigated roots and uneven terrain sent sparks shooting through Isabella’s...