Chapter 11 - The Step Backward
I took my first step, but it was not toward the open gates.
I stepped backward, pulling Leo tighter against my chest, retreating into the cold shadows of the estate.
My mother raised me to run from men with dragons on their skin, but she had never taught me what to do when the monsters outside were worse.
Dante’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, the moonlight catching a flash of raw, unfiltered shock.
He had expected me to leave him.
Before either of us could speak, the fog beyond the iron gates was pierced by the blinding beams of tactical flashlights.
"They're coming!" I screamed over the sudden roar of the wind.
Dante did not hesitate.
He lunged forward, grabbing my waist with his uninjured arm and pulling me behind the massive trunk of the ancient oak tree.
A millisecond later, the wrought-iron gates were shredded by a hail of automatic gunfire.
Sparks rained down around us like lethal fireworks, illuminating the terrifying reality of the choice I had just made.
"Keep your head down and cover the boy's ears," Dante ordered, his voice a calm anchor in the chaos.
I pressed my face into Leo's soft hair, shielding his fragile hearing as best as I could while tears streamed down my cheeks.
Dante stepped out from behind the tree with terrifying precision.
He raised his suppressed pistol and fired three consecutive shots into the dense fog.
Three heavy thuds echoed from the darkness, followed by the frantic shouting of Alexei's surviving men.
"Move," Dante commanded, hauling me to my feet and pushing me toward the hidden garden entrance.
We ran blindly through the manicured hedges as bullets chewed through the foliage inches from our heads.
My lungs burned with every breath, my cheap work shoes slipping on the wet grass, but I refused to let go of the baby.
Leo was unnaturally quiet, burying his face in my neck, trusting me entirely with his fragile life.
Dante shoved me through a heavy wooden door built into the side of the stone mansion, slamming it shut and throwing a steel deadbolt.
We collapsed onto the floor of a dimly lit utility corridor, gasping for air in the sudden, suffocating silence.
I leaned against the cold concrete wall, my entire body trembling violently.
Dante crouched in front of me, his chest heaving, his dark eyes frantically scanning my body for injuries.
"Are you hit?" he demanded, his hands ghosting over my coat without actually touching me.
"No," I choked out, unwrapping the coat so he could see that his son was completely unharmed.
Dante let out a ragged breath, leaning his forehead against the wall next to my shoulder.
"You should have run, Mara," he whispered, sounding more exhausted than angry.
"I told you," I replied, my voice shaking but resolute, "I cannot leave a baby to die."
Dante lifted his head, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that made the breath catch in my throat.
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"You are nothing like her," he said softly.
For the first time since I arrived, I realized I didn't want to be.
