Chapter 212 — The Man She Hurt

Chapter 212: Chapter 212 — The Man She Hurt

~ Raven ~

Something twisted painfully inside Raven’s chest.

And for a moment, the courtyard seemed to fade around Raven, and she was transported back to that night, standing beneath the ballroom lights as her voice carried Dante’s name across the hall through the amplification sigil.

She could almost feel the embarrassment again, the heat rising to her cheeks as she crossed the ceremonial floor toward him, while the infuriating bastard watched her approach with a smile so smug she’d wanted to strangle him.

Yet when she’d finally asked him to dance, something in his expression had softened, and the moment he offered her his hand, she’d almost forgotten about the hundreds of people watching.

She could still recall the warmth of his hand against her waist, how effortlessly he’d guided her through the music and how she’d laughed when he turned her unexpectedly.

She’d genuinely enjoyed herself that night. For once, she hadn’t felt like someone desperately trying to survive another academy ceremony. She’d simply been happy, and until this moment, she hadn’t properly understood just how much that evening had meant to Dante.

Raven looked at him, struggling to reconcile the man standing before her with the one who’d smiled so openly at her beneath the ballroom lights.

"I was happy too," she admitted.

Dante’s gaze returned to her.

"I know."

"No, I mean it. I didn’t ask you to dance because I wanted to embarrass you or make some kind of statement." Raven adjusted the books beneath her arm, wishing she could find a better way to explain herself. "I wanted to dance with you."

"Then why does it feel like I was the only one who thought it meant something?"

Raven flinched at the accusation.

"That isn’t fair."

Dante’s expression tightened.

"Isn’t it?"

"No." She shook her head, refusing to look away. "You know how complicated things have been with Cassian. I’ve never pretended otherwise."

"I know that, Raven."

"And I haven’t been pretending with you either."

Dante looked at her for several seconds, clearly struggling with something he didn’t particularly want to say.

"I know," he repeated, more quietly this time. "That’s what makes this so fucking difficult."

Raven swallowed.

She could see how hard he was trying to remain composed, and somehow that made the situation worse.

Dante Prymont was never supposed to have trouble saying what he thought. He was supposed to be arrogant, insufferably confident and entirely too pleased with himself.

Watching him struggle to speak to her was something Raven hadn’t prepared herself for.

"I’m sorry," she whispered again.

Dante’s head lifted immediately.

"Would you stop saying that?"

Raven stared at him, startled by the sharpness of his voice.

He took a breath, but whatever restraint he’d been maintaining appeared to be slipping.

"I’m serious, Raven. Stop apologizing like you’ve committed some terrible crime."

"I never said—"

"I know what you said!" His voice rose before he visibly checked himself, dragging a hand through his hair as he turned away. "Fuck. I know."

Raven remained where she was, uncertain whether approaching him would only make things worse.

When Dante faced her again, his expression was no longer remotely amused.

"I don’t want your pity," he said. "I don’t want you standing here trying to make me feel better because you think I’m some poor bastard whose feelings you hurt."

"That’s not what I’m doing."

"Then stop looking at me like that!"

Raven’s own irritation rose.

"How exactly am I supposed to look at you, Dante? I’m trying to talk to you!"

"I know you’re trying!"

"Then why are you making this so bloody difficult?"

He laughed, but there was nothing particularly pleasant about the sound.

"Because it is difficult, Raven!"

His voice carried through the empty courtyard, making Raven fall silent.

Dante turned away again, rubbing a hand over his face as he struggled to regain his composure, and she watched him with an increasingly miserable feeling in her chest.

She’d wanted him to stop behaving like everything was fine, but now that he had, she realized she hadn’t been prepared for what was underneath.

"I care about you," she said eventually.

Dante closed his eyes briefly.

"Raven..."

"I do. And I’m not saying that because I feel sorry for you." She stepped closer, refusing to let him dismiss her feelings so easily. "I meant what I said about the Ball. I was happy with you, and what happened with Cassian doesn’t make any of that less real."

Dante looked at her, and for a moment, something vulnerable crossed his expression before he shook his head.

"I know I can’t make you want me, Raven. I’m not asking you to."

His jaw tightened as he continued.

"But that doesn’t mean I have to be happy watching you choose someone else."

Raven’s chest tightened.

"I haven’t chosen anyone."

Dante studied her for a moment before giving a small nod.

"Maybe you haven’t," he admitted quietly. "But what I saw that night didn’t exactly look like indecision."

Raven looked away, unable to deny the truth of what he’d witnessed.

She’d kissed Cassian because she’d wanted to, and the bond between them had grown stronger as a result. But she also knew that standing here with Dante, watching him struggle with something she’d caused, hurt in a way she hadn’t expected.

She didn’t want to lose him.

She didn’t want him to stop smiling whenever he saw her, or to become someone who merely greeted her in passing before finding an excuse to leave.

Yet she couldn’t promise that she’d never kiss Cassian again, either.

And for the first time, Raven began to understand how unfair it would be to ask Dante to remain exactly as he was while she continued trying to understand what she wanted.

"I don’t know what to do," she admitted, looking back at him.

Dante watched her for a long moment, and when he finally answered, his voice had lost much of its earlier anger.

"Neither do I."

There was something terribly sad about hearing those words from him.

Raven had grown so accustomed to Dante behaving as though every problem could be solved through sheer confidence that she’d almost forgotten he could be uncertain too.

He rubbed a hand over his face before letting it fall.

"Look, I’m not going to start treating you like an enemy because of this. I still care about you, Raven."

She looked up, feeling a small measure of relief.

"But I need some time."

The relief disappeared as quickly as it had come.

"Time?"

"Yes." He gave her a tired smile. "I can’t keep acting like nothing’s happened when every time I look at you, I remember what I saw."

Raven wanted to argue, but she couldn’t find anything reasonable to say.

Dante wasn’t asking her to choose him, nor was he threatening to stop speaking to her unless she gave him the answer he wanted.

He was simply telling her that he was hurt, and she had no right to demand that he pretend otherwise.

"So what happens now?" she asked quietly.

Dante exhaled, looking toward the far end of the courtyard before answering.

"I don’t know. We keep attending classes, preparing for the Concord and doing whatever else Valerius decides to throw at us."

Despite everything, Raven almost smiled.

"That’s a terrible answer."

"I know."

A faint trace of his familiar amusement returned, but it vanished almost immediately.

Raven looked down at the books in her arms, suddenly wishing she’d never asked him to explain himself.

Not because she regretted hearing the truth. She simply hated that there was nothing she could say to make things better.

Dante glanced toward the courtyard entrance.

"I should go."

Raven looked up.

"Dante, wait."

He stopped, his expression tightening again.

"Please don’t make this harder than it already is, Raven."

"I’m not trying to. I just—"

"Do you think I wanted any of this?" he demanded, the frustration returning to his voice. "Do you think I wanted to spend the whole night wondering what the fuck I’d done wrong?"

Raven stared at him, startled by the sudden anger.

"You didn’t do anything wrong."

"I know that now!"

He turned away, swearing beneath his breath before facing her again. Whatever effort he’d made to calm himself appeared to have accomplished very little, and Raven could see that he was becoming increasingly frustrated.

"And you know what really pisses me off?"

Raven remained silent, unsure what he expected her to say.

Dante let out a sharp, humorless laugh.

"It’s not even that you kissed him. I knew Cassian was your mate, and I knew there was something between you long before that night. I wasn’t blind."

His expression darkened as he remembered something, and when he continued, there was a bitterness in his voice that Raven hadn’t heard before.

"But that bastard knew I was there."

Raven’s stomach tightened.

Dante took a step closer, no longer bothering to conceal his anger.

"He looked straight at me, Raven. He knew I’d seen you two."

A memory stirred.

Cassian turning his head after their kiss, his attention shifting toward something behind her.

That strange, satisfied expression she’d noticed when she looked back at him.

Raven felt her stomach sink as Dante gave another bitter laugh.

"And the bastard smiled."

He shook his head, looking thoroughly disgusted.

"Fuck him."

Before Raven could find anything to say, Dante turned and strode toward the courtyard entrance, his steps quick and angry against the stone.

He didn’t look back, leaving Raven standing alone in the quiet courtyard as the memory of Cassian’s smile returned with terrible clarity.