Page 75 of Shadowkissed

She looks at me like she doesn’t believe it. Like shewantsto but doesn’t know how.

“You don’t even know what I am anymore,” she whispers.

I take her hand—gently—and press it to my chest. Right over the bone pendant. “I know exactly who you are.”

Her lip trembles. “I’m a fucking disaster, Dante. A cosmic bomb wearing a pretty face.”

“And I’m the wolf dumb enough to hug the dynamite.”

She lets out a short, ragged laugh. “You’re an idiot.”

“Probably.”

“But you’remyidiot.”

That’s all I need to hear.

I cup her face, tilt her chin toward mine. Her violet eyes burn with magic and terror and a love she’s too stubborn to run from this time.

We kiss, soft and slow—not like before, not wild and desperate.

This time, it’s a promise.

I won’t let her face this alone.

When we pull away, I look at the others. The rebels—what’s left of them. They’re worn, bruised, haunted. But they’re still standing. Still willing to fight.

That means something.

“We start preparing,” I say, straightening, slipping back into that old role I tried to bury. Alpha. Strategist. Guardian.

They look at me like they recognize it—like maybe, just maybe, they remember what that title used to mean before the world went sideways.

“Seraphiel’s already in motion,” Mara says. “We may have slipped the net, but hewantedthat. Which means this was phase one for him.”

“Then we make sure there isn’t a phase two,” I say.

Liora crosses her arms, voice cool. “We build a force.”

“Not just a force,” I reply. “A resistance.”

It starts that night.

I strip the loft to its bones. Reinforce every barrier, reactivate every forgotten rune. The space shifts—no longer a hiding spot. A war room. A fortress.

Liora helps, her magic pulsing just under her skin. Controlled—but barely.

It responds to emotion. To touch. To me.

And yeah, that scares the shit out of me, too. But I trust her.

By morning, allies begin to arrive.

Old contacts. Former PEACE agents gone rogue. Witches who refused to swear to the High Coven. Vamp clans with no allegiance left. A druid who doesn’t speak and a chimera who does nothingbut.

They come in pairs, in shadows, in smoke.

All of them drawn here because they heard one thing:

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