I was on my knees on the floor, my hands pressing down on Dante's chest, trying to stop the life from leaking through my fingers.
"Dante, stay with me! Do you hear me? Look at me!" I shrieked, my voice cracking against the roar of the ocean.
Dante let out a wheezing sound that was supposed to be a laugh. Blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth, staining his teeth, but his eyes were still dancing with that terrifying, unhinged light.
"Relax, little cousin," he gasped, his voice a fragile thread. "You're getting... blood on your dress. Kieran's going to be... pissed."
"Shut up! Just shut up and breathe!" I sobbed, the tears blurring my vision.
Despite everything he had done—the cruelty, the chaos, the madness—he was the one who had thrown himself in front of that bullet. He was the one who had chosen us over his own life. Even the worst people deserve a chance to be forgiven, and here he was, paying for his sins in the most expensive way possible.
