(...continued)
The footsteps grew clearer.
Closer though unhurried.
Dante's pulse snapped into alertness.
Instinct flared and his body moved before any further thoughts.
In one fluid jolt, he threw himself backward onto the bed.
A breath left him…shallow, silent.
He yanked the thin sheet up to his collarbone, letting it fall just right.
His muscles locked.
His eyelids slid closed.
His lashes stilled.
The echo of the Batsus' chanting still rattled faintly in his ribs…somewhere deep down his subconscious…Khur'vak… khur'vak…but he forced it down.
He forced everything down.
Just in time.
The door clicked open…
Light spilled into the room in a slow, widening arc.
Soft footsteps entered.
Two sets.
One slow. A little weighed down.
Another sharper, precise.
Dante didn't move an inch.
Not a twitch.
Not a breath too deep.
And then…
