The silence in Forest Tajmaé was punctuated by tension. The void looming over the forest overlooked the dispute brewing between the nymph guards and Dante.
He stood perfectly still...too still. But his hands were clenched into tight fists, scales lined the side of his neck, visible in his agitation and his eyes were narrowed in warning, lips curled in deadly promise.
His predator curled within him, as surely as cold wrath.
It would take barely a minute, to be rid of all the nymphs in his way. A blink of an eye before blood dyed the forest and painted his claws red.
But Estelle's steady grip on his arm restrained him. A little too well...a little too easily.
The moment the void had ripped open, Dante had demanded entrance into the High Lady's hall.
But despite the urgency of the circumstances, he was denied.
