Isabella , her wolf form breaking and folding into her human one — white hair clinging to her skin, her violet eyes shimmering with tears and fire.
Theodore, too, shed his wolf, his towering frame shifting into human flesh. Yet he did not move off her. His body remained pressed against Isabella's trembling form, his golden eyes gleaming like flames in the night.
Dante roared in fury, his voice hoarse with desperation.
"Isabella! Don't let him touch you—!"
Theodore's gaze snapped towards him, irritation flaring. He tilted his head in a mocking, narcissistic smile.
"First, darling…" — his lips brushed near Isabella's ear as his voice dripped venom — "I should kill your little lover. Then, perhaps, we can share our intimacy without his pathetic howls interrupting us."
Isabella's breath caught, her eyes wide. "No—no! Theodore, please!" She scrambled to sit up, her palms clutching at his wrist as he pushed himself off her. "I promise, I'll come with you, I won't run, I'll never run again—just don't kill him!"
But Theodore's expression hardened into something cruel, his jaw tight. He strode toward Dante like a storm, his voice thunderous with hatred.
"My dear, do you think your precious lover will stop chasing you? Do you think he will not rise again and try to steal what's mine?"
He motioned with a flick of his hand.
"Lucas. Leo. My sword."
The silver gleam caught the moonlight as the weapon was brought forward. Theodore gripped it with deadly reverence, his golden eyes locked onto Dante. In one fluid motion, he yanked Dante up by his hair, forcing his head back.
"Beg, thief. Beg for the mercy you'll never have."
Dante, coughing blood, forced his gaze to Isabella — not Theodore. His lips trembled into the faintest of smiles, even as blood pooled at their corners.
"Don't cry, my dear. Don't… cry. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I tried, Isabella… but I failed. Still… remember this—" His hand twitched, weakly reaching toward her. "I love you. Run. Run and live, even if I cannot."
A broken sob tore from Isabella's throat as she fell to her knees, clutching Theodore's leg desperately.
"No! Please, Theodore! Please, don't do this! I'll do whatever you want, just let him go, I beg you!"
But Theodore only stared at her, his expression darkening when he saw her tears were for Dante. His grip tightened cruelly on Dante's hair. His voice shook with rage.
"You lean toward him… even now? Even while I stand before you?!"
And with a savage, merciless thrust, the sword plunged into Dante's chest.
The sound was sickening — steel tearing through flesh, the gurgle of blood rushing to Dante's lips. His body convulsed, his eyes wide with shock before they softened, clouding with the last remnants of life.
Isabella screamed, her voice echoing through the night, raw and broken. She clutched at Theodore's boots, her tears staining the dirt.
"No, no, no! Please, no!"
Theodore twisted the blade once, slowly, savoring the act. His golden eyes glowed with a maniacal fire as his laughter erupted, dark and cruel.
"Do you see now, Isabella? Do you see what becomes of those who dare challenge me? Your lover bleeds in the dirt, and still you think of running?" He crouched, his lips curling into a grin of pure madness. "Where will you run, hm? To whom? To what? No matter where you go, I will hunt you. I will catch you. You will never escape me."
His laughter grew louder, drowning out Isabella's sobs. In that moment, the night itself seemed to bow under the weight of his darkness.