{ "What if after all this time, it wasn't the beast in the dungeon I needed to fear, but the beauty who lived in the castle above him}
The cold bit into my skin, and no amount of comfort could burn away the frustration clawing at my chest. My hands were still shaking from adrenaline, from barely scraping past another death trap in this cursed mountain. I clenched my fists, willing the tremor away. Dante sat across from me, dragging his dagger through the dirt, sketching gods-know-what while I tried to figure out how we weren't dead yet. His face was smeared with dust, his curls a mess, and yet he had the nerve to look calm.
"We should be dead," I muttered, shoving a boot against a loose rock and sending it tumbling. "That's what should've happened back there."
Dante snorted, not even looking up. "Yeah, well, if you'd rather go back and try again."
