Isabella's body trembled as the shadows swallowed her. Her hands bound, her lips quivered as Dante leaned closer, his crimson eyes catching the dim light of the cell. He smirked, slow and deliberate, as though savoring her helplessness.
Dante (low, velvety voice):
"You fragile little thing… do you even know what you escaped from? Theodore's world would have burned you alive. His hatred for humans is carved into his very blood. You? You wouldn't last a single sunrise in his grasp, sweet… plump little morsel."
His words dripped with mockery, a cruel sweetness that twisted into something far darker. His voice softened, almost tender, yet laced with a madness that made the air itself feel heavy.
Dante (tilting his head, eyes glinting):
"See? I saved you. And in saving you… I lost a little piece of myself. But that's fine. I'll play the martyr. From this moment, I am your savior. And you… you, darling, are my possession. I will keep you here, in this delicate little cage, forever. Because I like you… oh, I like you too much. And Theodore—" he chuckled darkly, teeth flashing "—that self-righteous beast won't ever find you here."
He leaned forward, his fingers brushing near her cheek, trailing toward her hair with dangerous affection. Isabella's chest rose and fell violently. The spark of defiance suddenly flared in her eyes. Before his fingers could claim her—
Psshhhht!
She spat in his face.
Dante froze. His smile evaporated into a shadow of rage. His jaw tightened, and the silence that followed was colder than steel. He wiped his face slowly, his breathing uneven, his lips curling into a murderous grin.
Dante (snarling, furious):
"You dare…"
In a sudden fit of wrath, he grabbed a stale piece of bread from the table and hurled it at her feet.
Dante (voice thunderous, venomous):
"Eat. Eat like the pitiful little dog you are!"
The echo of his voice filled the small chamber, shaking Isabella's heart. Bound, her body jerked at the force of his command.
Dante's rage simmered, but instead of striking her, he sank into the chair opposite her, leaning back with a predator's patience. His eyes devoured her face as though she were a plaything, his lips curling into something crueler than anger—enjoyment. He rested his arm lazily along the chair's edge, his gaze never leaving her.
Dante (voice dripping with madness, slow and sharp):
"If you don't eat, my sweet… I will kill you."
He leaned forward, whispering now, every word cutting into the silence.
Dante:
"No… not kill. That would be too kind. I couldn't snap your neck, no, no…" he chuckled, his voice tilting toward insanity "…my darling, I love you. I could never end you. But I could break you."
He tapped his fingers slowly on the armrest, each beat like the ticking of a clock counting down her fate.
Dante (murderously soft, eyes glinting):
"Refuse me again, and I'll break that delicate hand of yours. One bone at a time, until you learn to obey."
The cell fell into silence, except for Isabella's shallow breathing. In that silence, Dante's obsession thickened like smoke—dark, suffocating, and inescapable.