The walk to Dante’s chambers felt like marching to my execution.

Every step, the mate bond pulled harder. His emotions were a chaotic storm—grief, self-loathing, desperation, and something else. Something that felt like surrender.

Was he giving up on us? Had he finally decided I wasn’t worth waiting for?

My hand shook as I reached for the door handle.

I should knock. Should announce myself. Should give them warning.

Instead, I opened the door silently.

And froze.

Dante was on the ...