Chapter 26 Dante
DANTE
Rage burned hotter than reason.
Dante stood in the empty Council Glade, staring at papers scattered across frozen ground. Evidence that should've buried Hector. Evidence twisted into weapons used against the woman he loved.
His lion snarled, pacing beneath his skin. Wanting blood. Wanting to tear apart the smug bastard who'd manipulated Council procedure and stolen Maeve's livelihood with forged documents and political maneuvering.
Wanting to fix what he'd somehow made worse by being here.
"Dante." Emmett's voice cut through the fury. "Don't do whatever you're thinking."
"I'm thinking Hector needs to be stopped." Dante turned, finding the wolf watching him with wary concern. "Permanently."
"Not like this. Not with violence." Emmett moved closer, his presence solid and steady. "That's exactly what he wants. You go after him or his people, he uses it to prove Maeve harbors dangerous rogues. Proves she can't be trusted with Council authority."
"She already lost her tavern."
"Temporarily. Two weeks. We appeal. We gather more evidence. We prove his documents are forged." Emmett's jaw tightened. "But if you attack his people, you hand him ammunition to make the suspension permanent."
"So we do nothing?" Dante's voice came out raw. "Watch him win while Maeve loses everything she built?"
"We do it right." Emmett's wolf rose to his eyes. "We follow procedure. We prove our case. And we don't give Bram any excuse to side with traditional values over facts."
Dante wanted to argue. Wanted to say procedure didn't matter when the system was rigged. When lions like Hector could manipulate rules designed to protect into weapons meant to destroy.
But Emmett was right. Violence would only make things worse.
Even if every instinct screamed to hunt down the rogues and make them pay for touching what was his.
"Fine." The word tasted like defeat. "Two weeks. We build a better case."
"Good." Emmett clapped his shoulder. "Go cool off. Check on Maeve. Make sure she's not doing anything stupid."
Dante almost laughed. "She won't talk to me."
"Try anyway." Emmett headed toward the tree line. "She needs someone. Even if she's too stubborn to admit it."
He left, disappearing into the woods.
Dante stood alone with fury that had nowhere to go. Maeve had walked away without a word. Had looked at him like he'd failed her. Like bringing evidence and breaking protocol had somehow caused this instead of prevented it.
Maybe she was right.
Maybe his presence had given Hector the ammunition needed to twist everything. To use unauthorized investigation as proof of Maeve's disrespect for Council authority. To make Dante himself into evidence of her poor judgment.
His phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.
Told you to leave. Now look what you've done. Last chance, Deleuve. Walk away or she loses more than her tavern.
Hector. Threatening. Gloating.
Something in Dante snapped.
He headed into the woods. Not toward town. Toward the lake. Toward the cabin where Hector's rogues camped between missions.
The cabin sat quiet when Dante arrived, smoke rising from the chimney. Two different lions than before lounged outside despite the cold, weapons within reach. They straightened when they saw him approach.
"Lost?" The bigger one grinned, revealing teeth. "Or looking for another beating?"
"Looking for answers." Dante stopped just outside striking distance. "Your alpha destroyed a woman's business today using forged evidence and manipulated procedure. I want to know what else he's planning."
"You want to know?" The second lion stood, cracking his knuckles. "How about we discuss it inside. Privately."
They moved together, coordinated and confident.
Dante's lion rose with a snarl.
He met them with claws and fury, no strategy beyond making them hurt. The first lion went down hard, jaw cracking under Dante's fist. The second caught him from behind, arm hooking his throat. Dante drove his elbow back, felt ribs give, and spun.
The third lion had drawn a knife.
"Hector said you might be stupid enough to come back," he said, blade glinting. "Said we should make sure you understand the consequences."
He lunged. Dante dodged, but not fast enough. The blade caught his side, hot pain splitting through leather and skin. He grabbed the lion's wrist, twisted until bones cracked, and the knife fell into snow.
Then all three were on him at once.
He fought like something feral. Clawed faces. Broke bones. Used teeth when claws weren't enough. His lion rose fully, golden and furious, meeting their beasts with savage satisfaction.
But three on one with weapons and coordination was a losing battle.
They wore him down. Drove him into the cabin wall hard enough to crack wood. Landed blows that split skin and bruised deep. One caught his temple with a rock, and the world spun sideways.
"Enough." The biggest lion hauled him up by his jacket. "Message delivered. This is our last time playing nice, Hector’s orders."
“Leave Hollow Oak and Maeve alone,” he said in a low rumble with his split lip.
The lion laughed, breath hot on Dante's face.
"Hollow Oak? Your little sanctuary's already falling.
Hector just proved traditional values win over progressive nonsense.
Two weeks and the Silver Fang becomes pride property.
Then we move on to the next female-run establishment.
And the next. Until everything's back where it belongs. "
He threw Dante into the snow.
"Leave while you still can, rogue. You've got no place here."
They disappeared into the cabin. The door slammed. Laughter echoed through wood.
Dante lay in the snow, tasting copper and failure. His side bled steadily, staining white red. His head throbbed where the rock had hit. Everything hurt in ways that said he'd be feeling this for days.
Worth it if he'd learned anything useful.
Except he hadn't. Just confirmed Hector's plans extended beyond Maeve. That this was about rolling back Hollow Oak's progressive policies entirely, starting with the easiest target.
And Dante had just proven he couldn't stop it with violence.
Footsteps crunched through snow. Heavy. Familiar.
"Idiot." Callum's voice came from above. "Emmett said you'd cool off. Should've known better."
Dante tried to sit up. His side screamed protest. "Help me up."
"Help you?" Callum crouched, his blue eyes assessing damage with practiced efficiency. "You're bleeding like a stuck pig and probably concussed. I should leave you here to think about your life choices."
"Callum—"
"But I won't." Callum slid an arm under Dante's shoulders, hauling him upright with careful strength. "Because apparently I'm as stupid as you are. Come on. Freya's at her apothecary. She'll fix you up."
"I need to find Maeve."
"What you need is stitches and sense knocked into you." Callum started walking, supporting Dante's weight. "In that order."
They made it to Freya's apothecary on the edge of town. The building smelled like herbs and magic, warmth spilling through the door when Callum pushed it open.
Freya looked up from her workbench, her copper-auburn hair tied back with a scarf. Her green eyes widened when she saw Dante. "What happened?"
"He picked a fight he couldn't win." Callum helped Dante onto a stool. "Can you fix him?"
"Depends on how stupid he's been." Freya moved closer, her hands already glowing faint green with healing magic. She pressed fingers to Dante's side, her expression turning grim. "Knife wound. Concussion. Cracked ribs. You fought other lions alone?"
"Seemed like a good idea at the time."
"Men are idiots." But her magic flowed gentle and warm, knitting torn tissue and easing the worst of the pain. "Hold still. This will take a minute."
Dante held still while Freya worked, her magic pulling wounds closed and setting bones straight. Kieran appeared from the back room, his hazel eyes sharp with concern.
"See you got your ass kicked," the tiger shifter said. Kieran crossed his arms. "What were you thinking?"
"I was thinking Hector needs to be stopped."
"And beating up his enforcers accomplishes that how?" Freya's voice carried sharp disapproval. "All you've done is prove you're dangerous. Given Hector exactly the ammunition he needs."
Guilt rippled through as he said nothing.
Freya's magic pulsed brighter, forcing the last of his wounds closed. "You were thinking with anger instead of strategy. With lion instead of logic."
"Maeve lost her tavern." Dante's voice came out raw. "Because I was here. Because I investigated. Because I gave Hector ammunition to twist procedure against her. I had to do something."
"You had to do something smart." Freya stepped back, her magic fading. "Violence isn't smart. It's reactive. It's exactly what alphas do when they feel helpless."
"I am helpless." The admission burned. "I came here to protect her. To stop Hector. And all I did was make things worse."
"Then stop trying to protect her." Callum's voice carried hard truth. "Stop trying to fix this with muscle and violence. Maeve doesn't need that."
"What does she need?"
"To reclaim her pride on her own terms." Freya moved to wash her hands, magic dissipating into steam. "To prove to the Council and herself that she's strong enough to handle Hector without anyone fighting her battles. You charging in with claws out just undermines that."
"So I do nothing?"
"You do what she asks." Kieran's expression gentled. "You stand beside her. You offer support. But you let her lead this fight. It's her tavern. Her reputation. Her choice how to handle it."
Dante wanted to argue. Wanted to say standing aside while Maeve fought alone went against every instinct he had. That watching her struggle when he could help felt like failure.
But looking at the three of them, at the concern and frustration and hard-won wisdom in their eyes, he understood what they weren't saying.
That trying to protect Maeve from her own battles just proved he didn't trust her to win them.
That loving her meant letting her be strong on her own terms.
That the best thing he could do was be there when she asked, not force himself into a fight she needed to own.
"She won't ask," he said quietly.
"Then you wait until she does." Freya handed him a jar of salve. "For the bruises. Use it twice a day. And Dante? Next time you feel like picking fights you can't win, maybe try talking to Maeve instead. Might hurt less."
She left through the back door, Kieran following with a sympathetic shoulder squeeze.
Callum stayed, studying Dante with those too-knowing eyes. "You really love her."
"Yeah."
"Enough to let her handle this her way?"
Dante looked at his bloody hands, at the evidence of another failed attempt to protect what he'd rather die than lose. "I thought I did but I don't know how to stand aside when she's hurting."
"Then learn." Callum's voice gentled. "Because that's what she needs from you. Not violence. Not protection. Just the space to be strong and the certainty you'll be there when she's done being strong alone."
He left too, the door closing softly.
Dante sat in the quiet apothecary, surrounded by herbs and the lingering scent of healing magic, and tried to figure out how to love someone by letting them fight without him.
It felt impossible.
But then again, so had changing enough to deserve her in the first place.