Dante's POV
Knox slammed his hand on the table so hard the water in Dante's glass rippled.
"This is insane," his Beta said for the hundredth time in three days. "The pack is terrified. You have brought a cursed mage into our home and you will not even let our own healers examine her properly. Half the warriors think she is going to burn down the entire house while we sleep."
Dante did not look up from the reports he was pretending to read. He could not focus on pack business anyway. Not when he could feel Elara through the bond. Not when every moment she was in pain, he felt it like a knife in his own chest.
"She is my mate," Dante said quietly. "She stays."
"Your mate rejected you," Knox said, not unkindly. "She does not want the bond. She does not want you. At some point you have to accept that."
Dante's eyes lifted to meet his best friend's. Knox saw something there that made him step back.
"I will not accept her death," Dante said. His voice was calm but there was power underneath it. Alpha power. "She rejected the bond out of fear and betrayal. I understand that. But I will not abandon her because of it. Even if it takes the rest of my life to earn her trust, even if she hates me forever, she is my mate. That means everything."
Knox sighed and sat down heavily across from him.
"You are completely gone for her," Knox said. It was not a question.
"Yes."
"And you will let the entire pack suffer because of one female."
"No," Dante corrected. "I will let them be uncomfortable while I protect someone who has no one else. There is a difference."
Knox did not argue further but he left shaking his head. Dante could feel the concern radiating through their Beta bond. His oldest friend thought he was making a terrible mistake.
Maybe he was. But some things were worth the risk.
That night, Elara screamed.
Dante was awake before the first sound fully left her throat. He had not been sleeping anyway. He never slept anymore. Just dozed in the chair beside her bed, listening to her breathing, feeling her pain through the bond.
She was thrashing in her sleep, her body drenched in sweat. Her hands were clenched into fists.
"No, please, stop," she gasped. "Cassius, I did not do it. I did not, I swear I did not."
Nightmares about the trial. About the betrayal. Dante moved to her side carefully. He wanted to touch her. Wanted to pour his own strength into the bond and soothe her fear. But she had not given permission for that.
So he did what he had been doing for three days. He sat beside her bed and stayed present while she fought demons only she could see.
"It is a dream," he said softly, not touching her. "You are safe. You are with me."
Her eyes snapped open and for a moment there was pure terror in them. Then she recognized him and the fear shifted into something else. Anger. Betrayal. Confusion.
"Do not," she whispered. "Do not tell me I am safe with you. I am not safe anywhere."
Dante did not argue. He just stayed in the chair beside her bed until her breathing calmed. Until her eyes closed again. Until the bond felt less jagged and raw.
That became the pattern.
He brought her tea in the mornings even though she always pushed it away. He sat quietly in the corner when the nightmares came. He did not demand conversation or acceptance. He just existed in her space, making it clear without words that he was not leaving.
Knox told him it was insane. The pack was restless. Some of the younger warriors were talking about challenging his leadership. An Alpha who prioritized a cursed mage over his own people was weak.
Dante let them talk.
On the fourth night, he found her sitting on the floor in the middle of his quarters. Her hands were raised in front of her, shaking with effort. She was trying to light a flame.
Nothing happened. No fire. No glow. Not even a spark.
Elara made a sound of pure frustration and tried again. Still nothing.
"Come on," she whispered to herself. "Come on, come on."
Tears were streaming down her face. Not from pain. From the absolute agony of losing herself. Her magic was dying and she could feel it slipping away and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Dante watched from the doorway, his heart breaking for her. The curse was killing her from the inside out. Her magic was getting fainter every day. Soon there would be nothing left but the wolf.
She tried again and this time a tiny flicker appeared in her palm. Barely a spark. But it was there.
She held it for maybe two seconds before it died.
The sound she made when it went out was the worst thing Dante had ever heard. It was despair. It was hopelessness. It was the sound of someone watching themselves disappear.
Elara pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself. Her whole body shook with silent sobs.
Dante moved toward her without thinking.
"Do not," she said immediately, her voice hoarse. "Do not come near me."
He stopped a few feet away.
"I want to help," he said carefully. "Not with the bond. Just with this. Just with your magic. Let me help you find it again."
Elara looked up at him with eyes swollen from crying. Her face was streaked with tears and her whole expression was crumbling.
"Why would you help me?" she asked. "I rejected you. I attacked you. I have done nothing but make your life difficult since I arrived."
"Because you are my mate," Dante said simply. "And because you deserve to know that you are stronger than any curse. Stronger than any betrayal. I see it every time you try to light that spark even though you know it is going to fail. That is not weakness, Elara. That is power."
She stared at him like she could not quite believe he meant it.
"I do not know how to let someone help me," she whispered.
"Then we can learn together."
Elara sat there for a long moment. The bond hummed between them. Dante could feel her considering it. Could feel her desperation warring with her fear. Could feel her absolute certainty that accepting his help would mean losing control.
But she was already losing control. The curse was taking that from her no matter what she did.
"Just the magic," she said finally, her voice breaking. "You can help me with just the magic. Nothing else."
Relief flooded through Dante so intensely he had to sit down in front of her.
"Just the magic," he agreed. "Whatever you need."
Elara raised her hands and tried again. The spark was even smaller this time. Her magic was fading faster.
Dante reached out slowly, giving her time to pull away. She did not. He placed his hands beneath hers, careful not to touch skin. Just supporting her from underneath.
"Feel the magic inside you," he said quietly. "Not the curse. The real magic. The part that is still yours."
She took a shaking breath.
A spark appeared. Then another. Her hands glowed with violet light. Weak but real. And for just a moment, her magic was not dying alone.
Elara looked at their joined hands and the tears started again. But this time they were different.
"Thank you," she whispered.
And Dante realized that maybe, just maybe, she was starting to see him as something other than a threat.