Page 70 of Shadowkissed

I hesitate. Just for a breath. Just long enough to look at him again. And I say the one thing I’ve been afraid of since the second I kissed him.

“I love you.”

His eyes flare. And he doesn’t hesitate.

He pulls me in, kisses me so hard it knocks my breath clean from my lungs.

“I love you, too,” he growls against my mouth. “Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”

34

DANTE

The tower shakes again—harder this time.

Dust rains from the ceiling like ash. The red alarms pulse brighter, like veins exposed and hemorrhaging. And I can feel it—him—rising through the court like a storm that finally smelled blood.

Seraphiel’s coming.

“Time to go,” I grit out, grabbing Liora’s hand. Her fingers are cold, but her grip is solid.

She nods, eyes fierce and glowing faint violet. “Through the northern corridor—there’s a breach. I’ve been working toward it with the others.”

“Others?” I shoot her a look as we run.

She nods again, breathless. “Rebels. Witches. Elementals who turned quiet. I told you—I’ve been sowing seeds.”

I don’t say anything, but I file it away.

My girl didn’t just survive in here.

Sheplanted a fucking rebellion.

We hit the hallway,and two enforcers are already waiting—twisted, armored bastards with molten runes bleeding from their faces like they were carved into flesh, not painted.

I don’t slow.

Neither does she.

Her shadows leap forward like hounds unchained, grabbing one of them by the throat and slamming him into the wall with enough force to crack the stone. I duck under a blade, slam my shoulder into the second and twist my dagger up through the gap in his armor—right under his ribs.

He chokes once. Drops.

Liora yanks the shadows back, breathing hard. “Keep going.”

We sprint through another hallway—spirals of flame and darkness threading the walls like veins. Every step closer to the gate makes the world feel thinner, stretched like skin too tight over bone.

My Guardian blood buzzes.

Itknowsthe Veil’s near.

We turn a final corner, and that’s when I see them—half a dozen of them—A witch leading, her dark eyes steady even in chaos. The others move in behind her, blocking off the passage from any enforcers still tailing us.

“You were right,” she calls out to Liora as we meet in the center. “They’re turning.”

“Good,” Liora says. “Let’s get out before they remember how to be afraid again.”

They fall in behind us as we move toward the gate—an arched maw carved into the stone, pulsing with golden firelight and a wind that tastes like freedom.

---