I blink in a daze under the cover of night, thin yet strong arms hold me at my thighs, and the cool breeze bites at my face despite me having buried it in the warmth of a thick coat. The familiar scent soothes me somewhat, though I try in vain to block out the strong metallic aroma, impossible. Slow, steady steps carry me down the street. Only by the shifting shadows do I know that it’s Dante carrying me in his arms.

  With my next blink, the setting changes. The moonlight casts a dim glow over the room. I’m lying on a bed while Dante paces back and forth across the wooden floor, his shirt gone, he seems rather upset. This all feels like a pleasant dream. I reach an arm toward him, and before it can fall limply onto the mattress, he catches my hand. His worried gaze examines not my body, but my soul; I can discern nothing from his face, only the brilliance of his eyes, which truly illuminate the night on this moonlit evening.

  He speaks to me, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. He gently squeezes my slender fingers while his other hand checks my pulse. I’m fine. Just tired and dazed. Yet, I can’t manage to tell him that. I part my lips to speak, but all that escapes is a faint sigh.

  ”For fuck’s sake, say something…” His plea gives me the strength to move. I lift my other hand and place it on his face, though my touch is clumsy, slipping first to his shoulder and then down to his bare chest.

  “I fucking want you. All of you.” A grin spreads across my lips at his stunned expression. I close my eyes to rest, unsurprised that even this feels like a challenge.

  I’m hot. I can barely breathe. I try to tug off my clothes, but my strength has completely left me. Fortunately, Dante helps me remove my top layers, though the process is made unnecessarily difficult by the way I’m clinging to his neck.

  Once he succeeds, he scoops me back into his arms and gently lays me down again. He’s speaking to me. Still, I don’t understand. I nod in agreement anyway, I wouldn’t refuse him, even if I could. Not that I’d ever had the slightest doubt when it comes to him. I trust him.

  I close my eyes at the softness of his careful kiss, but when I open them again, I’m lying in a completely different position, burning-hot pillows pressed against my stomach.

  I sigh as I run my fingers through thick hair. I don’t know what’s happening, but I like it. I grasp at his hair, pulling him closer, and when his lips find the curve of my neck, euphoria washes over me.

  I feel time slipping by, the heat spreading through every inch of me. The soft sounds reach my consciousness, yet I’m not entirely sure where they’re coming from, the quiet moans filling the room, the ragged breaths, whatever it is, I love it.

  I find it difficult to open my eyes after the night before, so I keep them shut for a while longer. I would turn from one side to the other, but my bare chest is firmly held by naked arms. The realization creeps slowly into my mind, am I naked?

  At my movements, Dante lets out a low growl and releases me. I turn to face him, but what greets me surpasses all my expectations. His flawless face is stained with dried scarlet blood, his hair matted from it. Tiny cuts adorn the skin near his eyes, accompanied by a bluish-green bruise. I sit up in bed, and the first thing I notice is our clothing from last night.

  Bloody. Large drops of blood stain the shirt he wore yesterday.

  “What happened?” My voice is sharp with alarm. Dante blinks open his eyes and rubs at them lazily.

  “You don’t remember? We had sex.”

  “That’s beside the point, what happened to you?!”

  “Keep your voice down. My head is killing me.” With a tired sigh, he tugs me back into his embrace, eyes already shutting again.

  I try to piece together the events of last night, but only fragments come to me. I already knew that we’d slept together. That much was obvious. We had practically devoured each other. But before that? I remember Derek holding me and some kind of commotion. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t recall anything else.

  “Dante, please.” Where did all that blood come from? Did someone hit him? Did he carry me home in this condition? Why isn’t he in a hospital?

  “Fuck you!” The unfamiliar voice makes my heart skip a beat. My pulse skyrockets, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe.

  “Relax. It’s just Anhur.”

  “Anhur?” I scan the room, but nothing unusual catches my eye.

  “Right beside you.”

  “What?” I glance over the side of the bed, and spot a massive cage. Inside, a large black crow flaps its wings furiously, cawing profanities. “What the hell is that?”

  “He was in my sister’s room last time. Mark and I took him in a while back. We take turns looking after him every year, but he mostly stays with Mark.”

  “Why is he swearing?”

  “I was cursing a lot last night. The little bastard must’ve picked it up.”

  “Fuck you…” the crow croaks, flapping its wings indignantly. Dante’s face twists in irritation.

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  “You two get along well.”

  “I’ll move him to the other room in a second, I still want to rest.” he says, lifting me effortlessly by my waist. If it weren’t for the blanket between us, I’d probably be incredibly flustered, but instead, I’m just worried about his condition. “Do you… remember? You know, us?”

  “Not really.”

  “I hope you don’t think I took advantage of your state.”

  “You’re covered in blood, I’d like to believe you weren’t in any condition to rape me.”

  “You could say you initiated it. Then you passed out like you’d been knocked out cold, I even felt a little guilty.”

  “What? Seriously?”

  At my embarrassed laugh, he strokes my cheek. I can’t quite believe I lived out a scenario I had imagined so many times, only to forget it so easily afterward.

  “At least we used protection?”

  “There’s a picture of Jesus on the wall. He looked over at us.”

  “What?!”

  “We used protection, relax!”

  At his laughter, I just roll my eyes. Why does he have to scare me like that? I rest my head against his chest, trying so hard to remember that my head starts to ache.

  “Yesterday… Yesterday, you were drugged. But I think I was the intended target.”

  “I remember you accusing Christopher.”

  “I punched him, and he fell into a beer mug on the floor… Dragged me down with him, and I took the table along. Every glass shattered on us.”

  “Oh my god… And I didn’t see any of that?”

  “You were sleeping so peacefully in Derek’s arms. I’ll show you the footage later.”

  “What? What footage?”

  “Obviously the one I’m going to ask for, because if it really was Christopher…”

  “Don’t continue!” I cut him off, looking up at his face. “So no one actually hit you? Was it an accident?”

  “Yeah, well. He did defend himself, though, even with the shards tearing up his back.”

  “And your head!”

  “It didn’t last long. Everything happened so fast, but luckily, they pulled us apart just as quickly. Derek took Chris to the hospital, his back was ripped open. My head only started bleeding later, I didn’t even notice until we got home.”

  “And instead of going to the hospital… We slept together?”

  “If I had told my parents, they would’ve taken the matter straight to the police. I was dizzy and drunk, I couldn’t drive. I could have called Mark, but then Chris would’ve gone straight from the operating table to the morgue, and you… you were so shameless last night.”

  “Me?!” My pupils double in size, he’s the one acting scandalized?!

  “You! You were teasing me like… like…”

  “Don’t you dare say it!” I press my hand over his lips, silencing him. First, I feel his mischievous smile against my fingers, then his sensual kiss. Instead, I slide my hand to his shoulder.

  “I agonized over whether I was making the right choice, but the more I thought about it, the worse my head hurt. So I stopped thinking, I just did what I wanted most.”

  “How about you wash off all that blood, and I check your head?”

  “They’ll be leaving the house soon. I’ll shower after that. Are you feeling better?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. I just can’t believe Chris would actually try to drug you.”

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  “Me neither… What would he have even gained from it? If I had passed out on the couch?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that too, but I can’t come up with a logical explanation.”

  “Then stop thinking about it. Think about something else.”

  “Okay… Then I’ll try to remember what happened after we got home.”

  “If you want, I can help with that.”

  With a smirk, he pulls the blanket off us, and before I can react, our bare bodies are intertwined. My cheeks burn instantly. He scatters a few kisses on my lips, gradually deepening them into something more. His hands trail from my back to my waist, finally resting on my hips. His touch isn’t brazen, it’s sensual, slow, endlessly patient. He gives me time to process what’s about to happen.

  I don’t really mind repeating something I’ve completely forgotten. Grasping his face, I fall onto my back and pull him down with me. Even though his cheeks are adorned with blood, he still looks absolutely breathtaking.

  I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He exhales a soft moan against my lips, and I sigh at the pleasure. The intensity in his gaze makes it impossible to keep looking at him. I break eye contact, staring at the ceiling instead. He takes my movement as an invitation, his lips descending on my neck. I can barely contain my voice.

  I press a hand over my mouth to muffle any sounds, necessary, since he doesn’t stop. His kisses trail hungrily down my collarbone, my chest, and finally, my lower abdomen. I could scream.

  He starts licking from my navel downward, and then my phone rings. Again. At the worst possible moment.

  “I hate this…” His frustrated growl startles me as much as the sudden pulse of pleasure that follows.

  He grips my thighs firmly, pulling them toward his face before pressing a lingering kiss to my skin. I can’t hold back a sound.

  “Let me throw that damn phone out the window!” I beg in desperation, but he clearly isn’t moved by my plea, probably because my phone is right next to me. In my frantic attempt to silence the call, I accidentally answer it.

  “Finally!” Mark’s sharp voice makes both of us jump. Dante loosens his grip, though he doesn’t fully let go of me. “I’ll be at Dante’s place in five minutes. Get yourselves together.”

  “Fuck…” Dante sighs, lifting his head. He doesn’t say another word. He just leaves me lying there, slowly getting dressed. I don’t even dare to look up at him. I’m trembling too much from the last few moments.

  “Nina, did you hear what I just said?” The voice on the phone is about as calm as I am right now, but I’m sure we’re both unsettled for entirely different reasons. Dante, still barely dressed, steps beside me and lifts the phone to his ear. His response is curt.

  “We heard you. You know my door is always open.” He ends the call and tosses the phone beside me. “If you hadn’t answered, he would’ve broken down the door.”

  “I didn’t want to answer.” I mutter, sitting up and wrapping the blanket around myself. A smirk spreads across his face.

  “I didn’t want you to answer either, but I think we’re better off this way.” Dante unlocks the door, peeks out, and when he sees the coast is clear, he leaves me alone.

  What am I supposed to do with my overheated body and restless mind? Mark could walk through that door any second. Getting dressed? Maybe. Calming down? Impossible. Slowly, I make my way to Dante’s closet and pull out a plain white T-shirt. My underwear, however, is a whole different mission to find, I never would have guessed I’d have to check behind a pillow.

  “Mark just parked. If I were you, I’d light a cigarette and act like you just woke up,” Dante says, wiping his face. Despite his efforts, he still can’t quite get rid of all the blood. He tosses the tissue into the bin beside the bed.

  “What? Why?”

  “Because we’re going to get our asses kicked when he finds out what we did instead of what we were supposed to do.”

  “You’re not wrong.”

  I stride toward the window and open it without looking back at him. A second later, he tosses a plastic box into my hands. Moments later, smoke curls from my lips. The approaching footsteps grow louder, he couldn’t hide the fact that he knows this place well, even if he tried.

  Mark's presence in this apartment surprises me, he moves around just as comfortably as he does at my place, perhaps even more so. He takes large strides toward Dante and, without any greeting, strikes him on the head with such force that the other instantly drops to the floor, landing straight on his backside.

  “You asshole… My head already hurts!”

  “That’s why you’re getting this! Why the fuck aren’t you in a hospital?!” Mark’s voice is so sharp that I instinctively shrink back. The small bag in his hand drops to the floor.

  “Why should we be?” My childlike question earns a loud sigh. Mark grabs Dante by the collar and, quite literally, hauls him onto the bed. Dante’s face says it all, he’s not a fan of being handled like this. But he doesn’t argue. Instead, he takes a deep breath and carefully lifts his gaze.

  “You really thought I wouldn’t find out?”

  “I was hoping… at least not this quickly.” Dante’s hand is still resting on his head. It must be killing him.

  “Derek called me early this morning. I won’t lie, he might have been crying.” At those words, both Dante and I snap our heads up. Mark’s eyes bore into Dante with enough intensity to make him look away.

  “He cried?”

  “Maybe. I’m not sure.” Mark rakes a hand through Dante’s black hair, stepping so close that for a moment, I feel embarrassed. But there’s no reason to. Mark and Dante both trained as nurses at the same school, he’s just checking his injuries. He unzips the bag and pulls out a pair of tweezers, carefully inspecting Dante’s scalp. “Derek said Chris just wanted to get Dante a little tipsy so he could properly apologize to you.”

  “To me?” I take a deep drag from my cigarette. The cold air makes me shiver. Why would he resort to something like that just to get my attention? How did drugging someone ever seem like an option in this situation?

  “Chris is sick, not stupid. He realized how he was acting and wanted to make amends.”

  “And why would that require drugging me?”

  “Derek said you didn’t look like the type to let go of Nina’s hand for more than a second.”

  “And what’s wrong with that?” Dante hisses through clenched teeth as Mark plucks out a tiny shard of glass.

  “Nothing. At least, I don’t have a problem with it. That’s why I trusted you with Nina.”

  “And now?”

  “If William and James find out you were drugged last night, Chris might as well start digging his grave.”

  “It’s weird that you’re not more upset.” Dante mutters. His words are followed by an awkward chuckle from Mark, breaking the tension in the room. Even though I’m still foggy, I can feel how serious this has become. This is the first time I’m in the presence of the two most important men in my life, and yet, I’m afraid.

  “I’m the one who’s going to put him in the coffin.”

  The two men begin a quiet conversation. Considering the situation, it’s surprisingly pleasant, heartwarming, even. After all this time, watching them exchange thoughts without tension, truly listening to each other… It’s different. They’re actually paying attention.

  Dante doesn’t resist even for a second, and Mark tends to his wounds with full concentration, a smile on his lips as he recounts the absurd thoughts that ran through his head after receiving the call in the early hours of the morning. By the time Mark starts disinfecting the wound, the whole thing turns into a bad joke, Dante whines like a child, while Mark scolds him in a tone that would make even mothers shake their heads in disbelief. Once he finishes bandaging Dante’s head, the blonde steps toward me, scanning me with evident concern. He lifts my jaw with his thumb, making me look into his eyes.

  “If you had drunk all of that, or Dante, you could be dead. GHB mixed with alcohol kills instantly.”

  “I never thought someone from your friend group would try to kill me, okay?”

  “Dante was the target. But that doesn’t mean I’m any calmer about it. He probably miscalculated the dose… Dante’s lucky you drink slowly. But if he had been the one to drink it, his heart would have stopped within minutes. You wouldn’t have even noticed what was happening, just that he wasn’t breathing. He would’ve simply slumped over and never opened his eyes again. His pulse would have faded, along with him.”

  “That’s horrible to even think about. Stop.” At Dante’s words, Mark merely exhales sharply, lets go of my jaw, and takes the cigarette pack from my hand, smoking like a chimney. Dante also walks over to the window, and both of them light up.

  “What do we do now?” I ask, Mark leans against the wall, thinking aloud.

  “If we get the footage and press charges, Dante could be in trouble too. I heard you two fought.”

  “It was one-sided. I had the upper hand, his back was torn to shreds.”

  “But if he gets out of the hospital and the others catch him first, he won’t be able to press charges against us. Because then we could charge him with attempted murder. Sure, he could still report the fight afterward, but after an attempted murder charge, a bar fight wouldn’t hold much weight. No matter what we do, it won’t be easy… One path is covered in nails, the other in broken glass. Maybe the simplest thing would be to cut ties with him.”

  “Leaving someone like that unchecked doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

  “Then do you have a better one?”

  “How does Derek know all this?” At my question, Mark slides down against the wall, raking a hand through his grown-out hair, thinking carefully about his words before answering.

  The full story, as far as he knows, is that Derek had been made aware of Chris’s plan, everything he intended to do that night. But the problem was, Derek didn’t support it. After their argument, Derek thought he had won the debate. But the moment I blacked out, it became clear he had lost. Things happened too fast, and the severity of the situation took too long to sink in. Without thinking, Derek called Mark and stumbled his way through an explanation. Derek is complicit in all of this. Even though he tried his best to avoid trouble.

  Dante and I don’t need to say anything.

  Mark simply nods toward my clothes on the floor. I put out my cigarette in the ashtray on the table and head to the bathroom to change.

  Dante’s parents aren’t home, so I have plenty of time to gather myself. I take my time getting dressed. After washing my face, something catches my attention. My skin is smooth, no dark circles under my eyes. I step closer to the mirror, examining my neck. Not a single mark. Dante didn’t leave a single trace on me. I’m surprised. Last time, his possessiveness was undeniable, he wouldn’t even take a sip of alcohol, yet now, drunk, he still had the patience to restrain himself? I grip the edge of the sink, staring at my reflection.

  Is it really that easy to take a life?

  I could have died?

  Dante… Dante could have died?

  I wipe away a stray tear from my cheek, but something scratches my skin. I glance down at my hand, on the ring finger of my left hand, an unadorned band rests.

  Is this an alternative? Is this his way of marking me as taken? When did he seal our relationship? Why don’t I remember?

  “Pull yourself together, Nina!” At Mark’s voice, I splash my face with water again. I really do need to get a grip.

  “One second!”

  I dig out a brush from the cabinet, quickly tie my hair up, and hurry back to the others. Mark glances at my shoes, silently instructing me to put them on. I ignore him. Instead, I walk over to Dante and wrap my arms around him tightly. He holds me just as tightly, unwilling to let go.

  “Let’s go home. Dante needs to sleep. A minor concussion won’t kill him, but he still needs to rest.”

  “Take me home, Mark!” Anhur’s voice rings out. Mark grabs the blanket and tosses it over the cage.

  “I’ll text you when I get home.”

  “You should rest too. Process everything.”

  I don’t know what to say. I step away and slip on my shoes, waving goodbye. Mark is noticeably calmer once we’re in the car, much more so than he was at the beginning of our conversation. I’m not stupid. It soothes him to know he’s the one looking after me now instead of Dante. I appreciate his protection, but this can’t continue. I need to learn to protect myself and the people I love. This can’t happen again.

  I stare at the ring on my finger, trying to recall last night. I know the full story, but I want to remember it.

  I want to remember how Dante stood up for me. I want to remember the magical night we spent together.

  I want to remember it all, and I never want to forget.

  My thoughts race at a thousand miles per hour. I’ve lived through the pain of Dante disappearing from my life before, but the thought of him disappearing from this world terrifies me. The idea that I wouldn’t be able to hold him, only talk to a gravestone… It paralyzes me. Christopher never meant harm. He was never cruel, just selfish and reckless. But I never thought things would go this far.

  Slowly, I lift my gaze to Mark, his expression is unreadable as he switches on the radio. A Conor song plays softly, and that’s when I realize, we’re not heading home.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I don’t know.”