chapter 36
For the past few days, Dante came home just before the sun dipped behind the border wall, the sky bruised purple and gold. Ferial heard him before she saw him—the low murmur of his voice as he spoke to a guard, the familiar weight of his presence settling into the house like a steady exhale.
Time seemed to pass slowly since she was brought here.
To her this was only supposed to be a temporary move, but now it felt as if she would never see her family again
She was curled on the couch, blanket tucked under her chin, half-listening to the crackle of the heater.
When he stepped into the living room, jacket shrugged off, sleeves rolled up, she lifted her head.
“You look cold,” he said immediately.
“You look late,” she replied.
He smiled, that soft, tired smile that only seemed to belong to evenings. “Fair.”
"In the district the first signs of winter mean't death was on our doorstep. Maybe that is why I bundle myself up like this." She whispered.
Without another word, he headed for the kitchen. She watched him move around the space like he belonged there—opening cupboards, pulling ingredients from the fridge, tying an apron around his waist with surprising ease.
“You’re cooking?” she asked, pushing herself upright.
“Yes.”
“You?” she teased.
He shot her a look over his shoulder. “I’m sensing a theme in your disbelief.”
She grinned. “I just like collecting evidence.”
He laughed under his breath. “Come sit closer. The heater works better near the stove.”
She padded over, perching on one of the stools, knees tucked up. The kitchen filled with the sounds of chopping and sizzling, the smell of garlic and spices blooming into the air.
“This,” he said, stirring a pan, “is something my sisters taught me. Easy. Comfort food.”
“Wolf comfort food?” she asked.
“Human-inspired,” he corrected. “Before you accuse me of feeding you raw meat.”
She snorted. “Thank you for the consideration.”
They fell into a quiet rhythm. Comfortable. Domestic in a way that felt surreal.
Then Dante cleared his throat.
“We’ll be leaving for the Capital soon,” he said casually, like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb.
She stiffened. “Soon… how soon?”
“Tomorrow night. Maybe the next morning.”
Her chest tightened, nerves flaring—and then he continued.
“And I’ve decided to bring Abdie with.”
The words didn’t land. They exploded.
She stared at him. “You—what?”
He turned to face her fully now, leaning back against the counter. “I’m bringing him with us. To the Capital.”
Her breath left her in a rush. “Dante. Dante, are you serious?”
“Completely.”
She launched herself off the stool and crossed the kitchen in three quick steps, stopping just short of colliding with him. “We can leave now,” she blurted. “Like—now now. I can pack in five minutes. I don’t even need clothes. I’ll wear this.”
He burst out laughing. “Ferial.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know,” he said, still smiling. “That’s the problem.”
She pressed her hands to his chest, eyes shining. “You don’t understand. You have no idea—”
“I understand enough,” he said gently. “You asked me to see your world. Abdie is part of that.”
Her voice wobbled. “You’d really do that?”
“Yes.”
She laughed, then sniffed, then laughed again. “I’m going to cry.”
“Also noted.”
She stepped back, wiping at her eyes. “He’s going to lose his mind.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it.”
They finished cooking together—she insisted on helping, which mostly meant tasting things and giving unsolicited commentary. When they finally sat down to eat, she barely touched her plate, too wired with excitement.
“You’re going to call him,” she said, pointing her fork at him. “Right?”
“After dinner. I'll have one of my captain's on patrol locate him and ring me once his with them. ”
“No, now.”
He raised a brow. “You want him to hear you screaming incoherently?”
“Yes.”
“Tempting,” he admitted. “But I’d like him conscious.”
She huffed but relented, bouncing in her seat the entire time.
An hour later, they were sprawled in the living room—her tucked into the corner of the couch, Dante stretched out beside her, one arm along the backrest. He pulled out his phone.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded furiously.
He dialed, switched to speaker, and waited.
It rang once. Twice. His captain picked up.
Then—
“FERIAL?!”
She shrieked. “ABDIEEE!”
Dante winced. “Volume.”
“Oh relax,” Abdie snapped immediately. “My ears are already damaged from yelling at idiots all day.”
Ferial laughed, clutching the cushion. “I miss you so much.”
“I miss you more,” he said dramatically. “You abandoned me. Left me with nothing but gossip and violence.”
“Nothing’s changed then,” she shot back.
“Excuse you,” he scoffed. “I’ve been in three fights this week alone.”
Dante leaned forward. “That’s not something to be proud of.”
There was a beat.
“…Who is that?” Abdie asked slowly.
“The man who would like you alive,” Dante replied evenly.
“Oh. So the big bad wolf does speak.”
Ferial groaned. “Abdie, don’t start.”
“I’m not starting,” he said innocently. “I’m finishing.”
Dante closed his eyes. “This is going to be a long relationship.”
Abdie ignored him. “Anyway, Ferial, you would not believe the district right now. Mrs. Kahn’s son got caught sneaking out after curfew with two patrol guards watching and still tried to blame the wind.”
“The wind?” she laughed.
“Boldly. Said it pushed him.”
She covered her mouth, giggling. “What else?”
“Rashida’s pregnant.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Whole block knows. Also, patrol Captain Niles finally shaved his moustache.”
She gasped. “No.”
“Yes.”
“That’s the end of an era.”
“I cried,” Abdie said solemnly. “Then I got punched.”
Dante sighed. “Why did you get punched?”
“Wrong crowd,” Abdie replied. “I said the moustache made him look softer.”
“That explains it.”
Ferial wiped tears from her eyes. “I miss you so much.”
His voice softened instantly. “I know.”
Dante shifted. “Abdie.”
“Yes, terrifying one?”
“I’m bringing you to the Capital.”
Silence.
Then—
“YOU’RE WHAT.”
Ferial burst out laughing.
“You’re serious?” Abdie demanded.
“Yes.”
“I—” There was a thud, like something hitting the floor. “I just fell off a chair.”
Dante pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please get up.”
“I’M COMING?” Abdie shouted. “I’M ACTUALLY COMING?”
“Yes.”
“I’M PACKING.”
“Don’t,” Dante said dryly. “We’ll send for you properly.”
“FERIAL,” Abdie yelled, ignoring him, “WE’RE LEAVING THE DISTRICT.”
She pressed her hand to her chest. “I know.”
“I’M GOING TO SEE THE CAPITAL.”
“I know.”
“I’M GOING TO BE A PROBLEM.”
Dante nodded. “That, I believe.”
Abdie laughed, loud and unrestrained. “I swear, if anyone looks at you wrong—”
“Abdie,” Dante warned.
“I’m kidding,” he said quickly. “Mostly.”
Ferial smiled so hard her cheeks hurt.
For the first time since everything had changed, since fate had dragged her out of the district and into a world of wolves and power and uncertainty, something felt right.
Her anchor wasn’t gone.
He was coming with her.
And Dante, sitting beside her—steady, patient, smiling despite himself—watched her glow like he’d just given her the world.
Maybe he had.