Chapter 20 Dante
DANTE
Dante stood outside Maeve's building for a full minute after she slammed the door, trying to remember how to breathe like a rational being instead of a lion who wanted to break the door down.
She'd called last night a mistake.
Called him manipulation and shoved him out of her apartment like he was nothing more than a distraction she'd used and discarded.
His lion snarled. Furious. Territorial. Ready to fight for what belonged to them.
Except she didn't belong to them. Had made that crystal clear with every accusation and deflection. Had looked him in the eye and told him she couldn't trust him. That he'd destroyed her once and she wouldn't give him the chance to do it again.
The truth of it carved deep.
He'd hurt her when he'd chosen duty and pride politics over following the two people who'd mattered most.
And now she couldn't believe he'd changed. Couldn't risk trusting him when trust had gutted her before.
Dante started walking, needing to do something besides stand outside her building like some lovesick fool.
His body still hummed with last night. Still remembered the taste of her. The way she'd felt wrapped around him, all heat and fury and desperate need. The sounds she'd made when she came apart. The way her lioness had purred against his with recognition.
That they were mates.
Had always been mates.
And she was running from it hard enough to break them both.
The cold air bit at his skin, clearing his head. Snow crunched under his boots as he walked without direction, letting his lion's restlessness burn off through movement.
She was scared. He understood that.But understanding didn't make it any easier to watch her build walls between them. Didn't make it easier to be accused of manipulation when all he'd done was tell her the truth.
He'd changed. He wasn't the lion who'd stayed behind anymore.
But proving that to Maeve meant more than words.
Which meant stopping Hector.
The thought focused him like a blade. Hector was the root of everything. The poisonous uncle who'd made their old pride unbearable. Who'd driven Callum and Maeve away. Who was now using sabotage and Council petitions to strip Maeve of everything she'd built.
Hector who thought women couldn't lead. Who believed traditional pride law trumped everything. Who wanted the Silver Fang not because he needed it but because destroying Maeve would prove his point about female incompetence.
Dante's hands curled into fists.
No more playing by Varric's rules. No more discrete investigation and careful evidence gathering. Hector was escalating. Bringing rogue lions into Hollow Oak territory. Confronting Maeve in her own tavern. Building a case designed to humiliate and destroy.
Time to escalate back.
Dante reached for his phone and texted Emmett. Where do Hector's people camp when they're in territory?
The response came fast. Don't know. Why?
Going hunting.
He pocketed the phone and let his lion rise to the surface. Scent tracking came easier when the beast was in control, senses sharpening until he could pick out individual threads in the mountain air.
There. Faint but distinct. The same foreign lion scent from his night patrol. Male. Alpha. Coming from the woods beyond Moonmirror Lake.
Dante followed it.
The trail led deep into the forest, away from established paths. Snow had covered most tracks, but scent didn't lie. It wound between pines and over frozen streams, heading toward the mountain's steeper slopes.
An hour of tracking brought him to a cabin.
Small. Hidden. The kind of place you'd only find if you knew where to look. Smoke rose from the chimney, and through a grimy window he caught movement inside.
Dante circled the building, counting occupants by scent. Three lions. All male. All foreign to Hollow Oak.
Hector's people.
He could confront them. Demand answers. But that would tip Hector off that someone was onto his game. Better to gather intelligence first. Figure out what they were doing here besides prowling around Maeve's tavern.
The cabin sat empty of movement now, the lions probably out on whatever mission Hector had assigned. Dante tested the door. Locked. The window was easier, old latch giving way with minimal pressure.
He slipped inside, moving with predator silence.
The cabin reeked of stale beer and unwashed male. Clothes scattered across furniture. Weapons leaned against walls—nothing supernatural, just basic human stuff. Knives. A rifle. Baseball bat.
Dante's lion growled. These weren't just scouts. They were enforcers. Muscle meant to intimidate.
He moved to the table where papers lay scattered. Shipping manifests. Dates and times. Names of suppliers who delivered to the Silver Fang.
His blood went cold.
This wasn't just reconnaissance. This was operational planning. Every detail of Maeve's business laid out like a map. Her suppliers. Her delivery schedules. Her inventory rotation. Everything someone would need to systematically sabotage a business while making it look like incompetence.
Dante kept searching. Found more papers tucked in a drawer. Council documents. Except these were wrong. Forged signatures. Fake petitions claiming other business owners supported Hector's takeover. Manufactured evidence designed to make Maeve look isolated and opposed by her own community.
"Son of a bitch," he muttered.
Hector wasn't just undermining Maeve. He was undermining the entire Council. Using forged documents to make it look like Hollow Oak's business community wanted traditional pride oversight. Like they were tired of progressive policies and ready to return to old hierarchies.
This wasn't about the Silver Fang. This was about power. About Hector using Maeve as a test case to see if he could expand his influence beyond his own pride. If he could prove that female-led businesses failed, he'd have grounds to challenge other establishments. Other Council decisions.
He was trying to roll back everything Hollow Oak had built.
Dante photographed everything. The weapons. The shipping manifests. The forged Council documents. Evidence Varric could use to shut this down permanently.
Then he heard voices outside.
Dante moved fast, shoving papers back where he'd found them. He was halfway to the window when the door opened and three lions walked in, bringing cold air and the scent of fresh kill.
They froze when they saw him.
"Well." The lead lion, bigger than Dante and uglier, grinned. "Look what wandered in."
"Private property," another said, moving to block the door. "You lost?"
"Not lost." Dante kept his voice level. "Just gathering evidence of sabotage and fraud. Council's going to love this."
"Council's not going to hear shit." The leader cracked his knuckles. "Hector said you might come sniffing around. Said we should discourage you. Permanently if necessary."
Dante's lion emerged with a snarl. "You can try."
They moved together, coordinated and confident. Dante caught the first punch, twisted, and sent the lion into the table. Wood splintered. Papers scattered. The second lion came from behind, arm hooking around Dante's throat.
He drove his elbow back, felt ribs crack, and the hold loosened. Spun and caught the third lion's jaw with his fist, the impact jarring up his arm.
The fight was brutal and fast. Three on one with no room to maneuver. They had numbers. He had rage and motivation and ten years of wanting to protect something that mattered.
He fought dirty. Clawed when necessary. Used furniture as weapons. Broke what needed breaking until all three lions lay groaning on the cabin floor.
Dante stood over them, breathing hard, knuckles split and bleeding. "Tell Hector his game's done. Tell him the Council knows everything. Tell him to leave Hollow Oak before I make him."
He grabbed the documents he'd photographed, shoving them in his jacket. Then he climbed back through the window and disappeared into the forest.
His phone buzzed. Multiple texts from Emmett asking what the hell he was doing.
Dante ignored them and kept walking. Varric had said discrete. Had said don't make waves. Had said thirty days to build evidence that would stand up to Council scrutiny.
Screw that.
Maeve didn't have thirty days. She had Hector actively working to destroy her while rogues prowled her territory and forged documents built false cases against her character.
And Dante was done playing by rules that only protected predators.
Varric could court-martial him later. Emmett could lecture about protocol. Right now, Dante had evidence in his pocket and a lioness who needed to know the truth.
Council orders be damned.
Some things mattered more than duty.
Like Maeve.
Like proving he'd changed by choosing her over obligation.
Like fighting for what was his instead of waiting for permission.
His lion settled, finally understanding what Callum had tried to tell him. Maeve didn't need saving. She needed someone who'd stand with her. Who'd trust her enough to share the truth instead of hiding it for her own good.
Who'd break rules when the rules were wrong.
Dante took out his phone and texted Maeve. We need to talk. Now. I have proof about what Hector is planning.
Then he started back toward town, bloody knuckles and stolen documents and the certainty that this conversation would either bring them together or tear them apart for good.
Either way, he was done being the lion who chose duty over the woman he loved.
Time to be the lion she needed.
Even if it meant risking everything.