Ophelia ran faster than she ever had, but no matter how fast, she couldn't escape the shadows behind her.
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Ophelia Ravenwood was running so fast she could barely breathe.
Her legs burned, threatening to give out beneath her, but she couldn't stop, not yet. Not until it was safe.
She ducked into the nearest building and slammed the door shut, locking it with trembling hands. A loud bang followed almost immediately, making her heart leap into her throat. Her chest heaved as she backed away, hands shaking, legs weak beneath her.
Who would be after her?
She stayed out of trouble. Always had.
Another bang hit the door, harder this time. A small whimper escaped her before she could stop it.
Then a voice cut through the silence, low, dangerous, and far too close.
"There's no escaping now," the man said. "Be a good girl and come on out. Don't make me force my way in there."
The other man laughed.
Ophelia pressed a hand over her mouth, tears burning her eyes as panic crawled up her spine.
Then ——
Fighting.
Heavy sounds. Grunts. Bodies hitting concrete.
Her heart pounded as suddenly as it had begun, the noise stopped.
Silence stretched, thick and terrifying.
A gentle knock followed.
A deep, soft voice spoke through the door. Calm. Controlled.
"It's okay now," he said. "You can come out. It's safe."
Ophelia didn't move.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice barely steady.
He let out a soft breath, almost amused.
"Just a knight saving a damsel in distress."
Dante Moretti said.
Her fingers tightened around the door handle. "Are you sure it's safe?"
He met her gaze, unflinching.
"I promise."
Still uncertain, Ophelia slowly stepped out.
The sight stopped her cold. Two bodies lay sprawled on the floor, unmoving. Her knees buckled before she could stop it.
Strong hands caught her instantly.
"Easy," Dante murmured.
Dizziness washed over her, the world tilting.
"Would you mind," he asked quietly, already steadying her, "if I took you home?"
For the first time, she noticed the faint scar along his jaw and the quiet authority in the way he moved. He didn't just fight, he owned the room. Something about him was dangerous in a way that went beyond strength. It wasn't fear that made her pulse race, it was instinct. Her instinct told her he was someone who belonged to a world she couldn't touch, yet somehow protected her from it.
And just like that, Ophelia realized she wasn't just safe, she was in the hands of a man she couldn't stop noticing.