Chapter 8 - WHISPERS IN THE SNOW
The ballroom was still reeling from Prescott's dismissal when Dante led Eloise out onto the second-floor stone balcony overlooking the snow-covered pine valley.
The cold alpine wind brushed against their skin, but Eloise didn't feel it. The warmth radiating from Dante's body beside her was an anchor against the Montana winter. The muffled strains of the orchestra played softly through the heavy French doors behind them.
Eloise rested her forearms on the stone balustrade, looking out at the glittering sea of pine trees silvered by the moonlight.
"Ten years," she said softly, her breath forming small clouds of white vapor. "For ten years, Dante, I thought this scar was a curse. Every job interview, every date, every mirror... it told me I was broken. That I didn't deserve to be looked at like a normal woman."
Dante moved closer, turning her gently until her back was against the balustrade. He reached up, his large, calloused fingers gently tracing the jagged edge of the silver tissue that ran from beneath her ear down to the base of her collarbone. There was no hesitation in his touch, only an aching, reverent tenderness.
"Normal women don't run into burning buildings to save a child they don't even know, Eloise," Dante whispered, his voice vibrating deep in his chest. "Men like Prescott and Douglas look at this and see a flaw because they are cowards. Their souls are ugly, hollow things."
He leaned closer, his forehead resting gently against hers.
"To me, this is the most beautiful thing in the world. It’s proof that there was someone in this cruel, godless valley who was willing to bleed so an innocent could live."
Eloise’s eyes welled with tears, but this time they were tears of release. The decade of shame, the humiliation, the cruel laughter—it all evaporated into the freezing mountain air, burned away by the unshakeable truth in Dante’s eyes.
"Dante..." she breathed, her hands rising to touch the rough stubble of his jaw, her fingers tracing the dark underworld tattoos on his neck. "Are you doing this because you owe me a debt for Mateo? Or because—"
"I settled the debt the day I brought you home," Dante cut her off, his voice fierce with raw honesty. "This isn't gratitude, Eloise. I am in love with you. I have loved the ghost of the girl who saved my brother for a decade, and now that I have found the woman behind the legend, I will never let you go."
Before she could speak, his lips met hers.
May you like
The kiss was fierce, consuming, and full of a desperate, long-awaited hunger. Eloise melted into him, her fingers tangling in his dark hair as his strong arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her against the solid wall of his chest. For the first time in her life, she felt entirely safe, entirely desired, and entirely whole.
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