The forest went still.

Even the river seemed to hold its breath as Dante’s senses sharpened. He could hear the faint snap of a twig, the whisper of movement beyond the line of trees — deliberate, calculated. His instincts screamed one word: ambush.

He raised a hand slightly, signaling Isabella to stay behind him. She froze, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched his posture shift. In an instant, the man she had spent the morning tangled with — tender, warm, human — vanished, replaced by the soldier. His shoulders squared, his gaze narrowed, and the air around him seemed to crackle with lethal focus.

“Someone’s here,” he...