Chapter Thirty-Two: Burned Hands, Bruised Hearts

The air still smelled like smoke and gunpowder. Isabella’s ears rang as she stumbled forward, coughing. Strong hands grabbed her waist, pulling her out of the haze.

“It’s me,” Dante’s voice growled in her ear. “I’ve got you.”

She turned and saw his face streaked with sweat and dirt, his shirt ...

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