The warehouse was silent except for the hum of the white lights.
Izana, crouched in front of Leah had his emerald eyes fixed on her the way a predator studies wounded prey.
She was trembling.
Bound to the metal chair.
Blood beneath her.
Weak.
His hand hovered inches from her face.
"…Weak," he said again, voice cold and distant.
Leah's breath hitched.
She had never seen him look at her like this.
"Izana…" she whispered, forcing the word through shaking lips. "It's me. Please."
Her voice cracked.
That sound —
Soft. Fragile. Familiar.
The curse reacted violently.
Recognition tried to surface.
The predator instinct crushed it.
Her voice was instability.
Her weakness was imbalance.
The curse demanded correction.
Izana's expression hardened.
And suddenly —
He moved.
His arm came down in a swift, decisive motion.
Not wild.
Not chaotic.
Precise.
Lethal.
"IZANA!"
Dante launched himself forward without hesitation.
He intercepted the strike mid-motion, taking the full force of Izana's redirected blow across his shoulder. The impact threw Dante sideways, pain exploding through his arm as he hit the concrete floor.
Leah gasped, "Dante!"
Izana rose slowly.
His gaze shifted to Dante.
New target.
Interference.
Threat.
Dante pushed himself up, breathing uneven but steady. "Boss… stop. Listen to me."
Izana did not respond.
He stepped forward.
Dante braced himself.
"I won't let you hurt her," Dante said quietly.
Izana attacked.
The fight was swift and brutal — not in gore, but in sheer difference of power.
Dante barely managed to block the first strike. The impact numbed his arm instantly.
"You're going to kill her!" Dante shouted. "Is that what you want?!"
Izana's response was another blow that cracked the floor beside Dante's head.
Dante staggered backward.
"She's your wife!" he yelled.
No hesitation.
No pause.
Izana advanced again.
Moving like a machine.
Efficient. Unstoppable. Inhumanly focused.
Dante knew he couldn't win.
He only needed seconds.
Another hit landed against Dante's ribs, knocking the air from his lungs. He slid across the floor, coughing sharply.
Izana advanced.
No hesitation.
No anger.
Just instinct.
Dante's hand slipped inside his jacket.
There was only one option left.
The last resource.
The failsafe.
A specialized sedative — designed for emergencies when the curse overtook him completely.
It was dangerous.
High dosage.
Unstable.
It could stop his heart.
Dante met Izana's eyes as he approached.
"I'm sorry," he murmured.
Izana's hand shot forward, gripping Dante by the collar and lifting him partially off the ground.
Dante looked directly into his eyes.
There was nothing human there.
Only instinct.
Only hunger for control.
"Izana…" Dante said quietly, almost gently. "I'd rather you hate me than lose her."
Dante acted.
He drove the injector into Izana's side and triggered it.
For a split second, nothing happened.
Then —
Izana's body went rigid.
The curse flared violently, as if rejecting the intrusion. His grip tightened painfully around Dante's collar before suddenly faltering.
He staggered backward.
Dante fell to the ground, gasping.
Izana's breathing became uneven.
His eyes flickered — predator instinct clashing against forced sedation.
For a terrifying moment, it looked like it wouldn't work.
Dante grimaced. "Come on... work."
Izana's body stiffened.
The curse flared violently, as if resisting invasion.
His jaw clenched.
Blood slid from the corner of his mouth.
He took a step forward despite the sedative flooding his system.
Leah gasped. "Dante, it's not working!"
"It has to," Dante growled.
Izana staggered.
His breathing became uneven.
His eyes flickered between predatory focus and something fractured beneath it.
He growled — low, distorted — as if fighting something inside himself.
Dante whispered, "Let go, Izana. Just let go."
Izana took one more unstable step.
Then his knees buckled.
He hit the concrete floor hard.
Still.
Unconscious.
The warehouse fell silent again.
Dante remained on the ground for several seconds, chest rising and falling rapidly.
He had won.
But barely.
His shoulder throbbed violently. His ribs ached with every breath.
He forced himself to stand.
"Leah," he said, voice rough.
She was still tied to the chair, pale and trembling.
He moved to her quickly, wincing as he reached for the restraints. His hands worked carefully despite the pain.
"You're safe," he said quietly.
The word felt fragile.
Safe.
He loosened the bindings around her wrists.
As they fell away, she swayed forward weakly.
Dante caught her before she could fall.
Her body felt too light.
Too fragile.
He noticed it then.
The blood beneath the chair.
His expression changed.
"Leah…" he breathed.
She followed his gaze downward.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
She already knew.
She had felt it.
That hollow shift.
That sudden emptiness.
Tears slid silently down her face.
Dante swallowed hard and reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone.
He dialed quickly.
Elias answered on the second ring. "Dante? What's going on?"
"Are you safe?" Dante asked immediately.
"Yes — I'm at the mansion. What happened?"
Dante glanced at Izana lying motionless on the floor.
"We need support," he said firmly. "Extra units. Medical. Immediately."
"Is she—."
"She's alive," Dante interrupted, though his voice tightened slightly. "I'm sending the location now."
There was a pause.
"And Izana?" Elias asked quietly.
Dante looked at him again.
"He's sedated."
Silence.
"… That dosage?"
"Yes."
A sharp inhale on the other end.
"I'm sending everyone," Elias said immediately. "Stay where you are."
Dante ended the call and sent the coordinates.
He turned back to Leah.
She was staring at Izana.
Unconscious.
Still.
The most dangerous man in the room reduced to silence by a single injection.
Despite her weakness, despite the pain radiating through her body, Leah slowly pushed herself off the chair.
"Leah, don't," Dante warned gently. "You need to sit—."
But she shook her head.
Every movement looked like it hurt.
Her legs trembled.
Her abdomen tightened painfully.
But she forced herself forward.
Step.
Step.
Until she reached Izana.
She lowered herself carefully to her knees beside him.
The cold concrete pressed against her skin.
She ignored it.
Her fingers hovered above his face before finally brushing against his cheek.
He was warm.
Breathing.
Alive.
"He didn't know…" she whispered, voice breaking.
Dante stood a few feet away, giving her space despite his own injuries.
The bright warehouse lights still hummed overhead.
The rival and Leah's parents had fled during the fight.
The curse had nearly destroyed everything.
And yet—
Leah leaned forward weakly, resting her forehead gently against Izana's shoulder.
Her body shook — not from fear now.
From grief.
From exhaustion.
From loss.
"You weren't supposed to find out like this," she murmured faintly.
Izana remained unconscious.
Unaware.
Still trapped somewhere inside the storm of the curse.
Dante watched silently.
Reinforcements would arrive soon.
Medical teams.
Security.
But in this moment—
It was just the three of them.
The fallen predator.
The loyal shield.
And the woman who had lost something precious under blinding white lights.
Leah's fingers curled gently into Izana's shirt as if anchoring herself to him.
Even now.
Even after he had almost struck her.
She chose him.
Leah remained kneeling beside Izana.
Weak.
Grieving.
But still reaching for him.