The night dripped with tension, a thick fog curling like smoke around the ancient woods that encased the cathedral ruins. Selena moved cautiously, her pulse a steady thunder in her ears as she followed the trail of scorched earth Dante had unknowingly left behind. The trees whispered secrets to each other in the wind, and every step she took felt like wading deeper into a myth she hadn't been ready to believe.
The encounter with Alara had shaken her. Her words still echoed in her head like a curse: "Let's see how long it takes before she burns from the inside out." Selena didn't know what Alara had meant, not entirely. But she felt something shifting inside her—something volatile and ancient stirring in her blood.
She reached the cathedral and hesitated before stepping through the archway. The wind hissed through the shattered stained glass, and the structure loomed before her like a wounded beast. The fire Dante had once summoned had marked this place with ash and scars. Yet still, the altar stood—unchanged and defiant.
And there he was.
Dante Valerio.
He stood like a carved statue of a fallen god. Shirtless, his back glistened with sweat under the moonlight filtering through the cracks in the roof. The crimson markings that curled across his skin pulsed faintly, like veins connected directly to the heart of some ancient curse.
"You came," he said, not turning.
"I had to," she replied. Her voice sounded small in the vast silence, but it carried strength. "You left without a word."
He turned slowly, his ember eyes meeting hers. They were tortured, filled with fire and guilt. "I had to leave. To protect you."
She stepped forward. "You still think pushing me away is protection?"
Dante's jaw clenched. "I don't know how to keep you safe when I'm losing myself. When the curse grows stronger every time we're near each other."
Selena's heart twisted. "Maybe the curse is part of me now, too. Maybe we face it together. Or it wins."
He looked down at his hands—hands that had held her, burned for her, bled for her. "I was born to destroy everything I love."
"Then unlearn it."
That stunned him.
She stepped closer. "You're not just your curse, Dante. You're not the monster they made you believe you are."
He stared at her like she was a miracle he didn't deserve.
"I'm not afraid of your fire," she whispered. "I'm afraid of losing you to it."
Dante closed the distance between them in one step. He cupped her face gently, reverently, as though she were something fragile he didn't dare break. "You should be afraid of me."
She leaned into his touch. "I'm not."
Their lips met, not in desperation like before, but in something deeper. A promise. A confession. A tether between two broken souls seeking refuge in each other's fire.
But the moment shattered.
A scream—far away but unmistakable—ripped through the air.
Dante jerked his head up. "That came from the southern woods."
Selena grabbed his arm. "Was it Alara?"
"No," Dante said, already moving. "Something worse."
They raced through the forest, the trees clawing at their skin. The screaming had stopped, replaced by silence more terrifying than any sound.
They burst into a clearing—and froze.
Bodies.
Blood.
A massacre.
At the center, kneeling among the carnage, was a boy—no older than seventeen, his hands dripping crimson, his eyes pitch black.
Selena gasped. "He's cursed."
Dante's face darkened. "No. He's awakened."
The boy looked up. His lips twisted into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Hello, brother."
Selena staggered. "Brother?"
Dante stepped forward, shielding her. "Lorenzo. You were dead."
Lorenzo stood. His voice was smooth, oily. "I was reborn. The flames didn't kill me. They made me... stronger."
Selena whispered, "He's like you."
"No," Dante said, "He's worse. He chose the darkness."
Lorenzo's gaze flicked to Selena. "Ah. The reason you hesitate. She smells like fear... and power."
Dante growled. "Touch her, and I'll end you."
Lorenzo smirked. "But it's not me she needs to fear. It's what you're becoming, brother. Look at your hands. Do you even recognize them anymore?"
Dante glanced down—his fingers were blackened, glowing faintly. Selena reached out, grabbing his hand, grounding him.
"I know who he is," she said fiercely. "He's the man who saves me."
Something shifted in Dante's expression.
Lorenzo chuckled. "Then may your love be your undoing."
He vanished in a blaze of black flame.
Silence fell.
Selena's breathing was ragged. "What was that?"
Dante looked broken. "My curse... it didn't just infect me. It created him. Lorenzo. My younger brother. He died in the fire that gave me these powers."
"And now he's back?"
"As my shadow," Dante said. "The darker I become, the stronger he gets."
Selena's hand slid into his. "Then we fight him together."
He looked at her. "Even if it kills you?"
She nodded. "Especially then."
Dante pulled her into a fierce embrace. "Then we make a new oath. Not of blood. But of fire."
And there, beneath the cursed moon, in a world tearing at its seams, they made their vow:
To burn—but never alone.
To love—even in ruin.
To fight—until the fire consumed their enemies.
Together.
Forever.
In crimson flame.