Chapter 21

• Before the denial could clear my throat, Dante closed the remaining fraction of an inch between us.
• His mouth came down on mine with a dark, ruthless precision that shattered the air right out of my lungs.
• It wasn't like Ryder’s kiss—there was no wild, unhinged heat, no rough, desperate fever. Dante’s kiss was cold, commanding, and sickeningly calculated. It was the deliberate, unyielding possession of an Alpha taking territory he believed was rightfully his. His long fingers tightened violently in the fabric of Ryder's oversized charcoal hoodie, dragging me flush against the iron-hard frame of his tailored suit, pinning my lower back so firmly against the auditorium railing that I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't retreat.