Dantes Fire の小説・ストーリー

Dante's phone buzzed insistently on the nightstand, pulling both of them from rest. Arabelle groaned, burying her face in his chest as he reached for it. "This better be important," Dante answered, voice rough with sleep. "It's the warehouse on Fifth Street," Massimo's voice was tight. "It's on fire. The Carusos hit us hard—took out the guards, torched the entire building. We've got three men down, two critical."

Monday morning arrived with a brilliant flash of northern light that filled the apartment before the alarm could even ring. Dante left for the training facility at seven thirty sharp, dressed in his dark team tracksuit with his playbook binders zipped tightly inside his backpack. Ariana stood by the kitchen counter, drinking a fresh cup of coffee, and watched his broad frame disappear into the elevator lobby. An hour later, she walked out into the crisp morning air with her camera slung over her shoulder.

“Eli. Your… boyfriend. Whatever he is to you. This is because of him. And the people around him.” Before Adrian could speak, Mr. Carter stepped forward. “He needs to go. We’re begging you, son.” “You can’t be serious,” Adrian said, stunned. “We didn’t ask for this life,” he said. “We didn’t ask for firebombed cars and armed threats and paparazzi on our lawn. We’re not cut out for this war. But we’re paying the price.” “Sorry about that, but there’s nothing I can do,” Adrian said, desperate.

I watch his eyes go wide, but his scream is cut off as I open my mouth and send a blast of fire into the crater. I hear the sounds of elves’ screams a moment before I begin to smell their burning flesh. I feel Cal come up behind me, blasting his air against the elves who escaped the crater. One by one, they begin falling into the boiling water as he uses his air to hold them. “Go, Daichi! Get Amaya to Doc Everett,” Avani tells him. I feel my mother and Kaylani fly up beside me, replacing Amaya’s water and my fire when the last of my air leaves my lungs.

As I was about to open my mouth again, I was interrupted by the voices that had grown more terrifying. “Run!” They cried. “RUN!” In a heartbeat, the cold air was replaced by a sudden wave of searing heat, prompting me to spin around and face the horrifying sight before me. The manor, where thousands of Farsuleias had left a mark on the history of our lineage, was now consumed by a raging inferno, its flames eagerly dancing upon the foundations. My breath caught in my chest as I watched the fire's voracious hunger devour everything in its path.

My back was flush against his chest, firm, muscular, radiating heat through my blouse like fire licking against my skin. I froze. I didn’t breathe. My body forgot how to exist. His warm breath brushed the side of my neck, slow, subtle, but unmistakably there. Like a dragon exhaling on the back of its prey. I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. My mind shut down, my lungs locked, my heart hammered like it wanted to escape. I wasn’t supposed to be this close to him. He wasn’t supposed to be this close to me. Yet here we were, my spine aligned with the chest of the most dangerous man I know, a man who could ruin my life with a single sentence.

I reply as I release my power. My hair turns red and my eyes go ashen. I aim straight for the demon's stomach as my flame eats away at his blackened tendrils. A screech of agony is given from the demon prince as I continue to blast him, my energy drains quickly as I give a worried look at Knight who's fingers have begun shooting purple sparks at the demon. Wrapping around him, and dragging him towards us. The demon doesn't realize it yet, but he has already lost.

I screamed at the Captain, already turning back toward the inferno. "Majesty, it's a suicide mission! The structural integrity—" the Captain started, but I was already sprinting back into the darkness. The olive grove was burning now, ash falling like grey snow. The heat was unbearable as I reached the edge of the collapse. The monastery was gone. In its place was a smoking crater of crushed stone and twisted metal. "DANTE!" I screamed, my voice tearing my throat. "Dante Moretti, answer me!" Silence. Only the crackle of the flames and the shifting of unstable rocks responded.

But his underboss's expression was serious, determined—this was Marco handling family business. "Boss," one of his men called. "Teams report the estate's main building is engulfed. The fire department's on scene but it's….it's bad. Multiple casualties. Catalina's forces hit hard and fast." Dante's fists clenched. His home. His family's legacy. Burning because he'd been played. Because Catalina had used Antonio's confession as bait to draw him away. "Survivors?" he asked, voice deadly calm. "Lorenzo's team got most of the staff out. But boss…..there were guests preparing for the gala. Caterers, decorators, family members. We don't have a full count yet."