The storm hadn’t let up. Rain lashed against the car, turning the streets into slick rivers that reflected the chaos of the city like fractured mirrors. Dante’s hand remained tight around mine, his fingers digging into my skin, grounding me even as my heart threatened to explode from adrenaline.

“Stay low,” he murmured, voice husky, strained from the last encounter. “They’ll be looking for us.”

I leaned into him instinctively, feeling the heat of his body through the soaked fabric of our clothes. “We can’t hide forever,” I whispered. “They’ll track us.”

He tilted his head slightly, eyes scanning the rain-blurred streets. That alpha, predatory glint was back—the one that...