What About Love

Jilana slowly climbed up the stone staircase to their chamber, her mind replaying the conversation that she'd had with Santos. It had given her an insight into what made Dante the way he was... and left her wondering how she could breach the barricades around his heart and heal the wounds within.

Pushing open the oak door she stepped into the small ante-chamber before walking across the flagged floor to the sleeping chamber. The fire had only recently been lit yet the room was still chilly and she was glad that she had put on the fleece lined leather slippers that morning.

"You're leaving," she whispered as she saw Dante pushing his tunics into a leather bag.

"It's for the best." Dante's voice was flat, revealing nothing, as he continued to pack his clothes into the bag. He didn't look at her or glance away from the task he was doing. He dare not.

"The best for whom, Dante?" Jilana walked over and stood on the other side of the bed to him. "You? Certainly not the best for me?"

Dante paused in his packing and slowly raised his head to look at her. The deep blue eyes that had attracted her to him were shuttered and unrevealing. "For both of us."

"Don't do this, Dante, please." Jilana knew that she was begging but she was desparate to stop the pain that was arcing through her body. Her heart felt as though it was breaking into a thousand tiny shards.

"I have to. It would not be safe, for you, Danny, anyone if I stayed." He pulled the edges of the bag together and started to tie the leather ties together, his movements slow and methodical.

"Dante, you're not your father! You don't have to leave us! I know that you would never hurt us!" She had to reach him, to get him to see what was in her heart and his.

Dante stiffened at the mention of his father. Very few people knew who his father was and what he had done all those years ago. It was a secret that he kept locked deeply inside him and never shared. Only Santos knew the full story of his past. Santos. He should have known that the old man would confide in Jilana, sharing things that shouldn't be shared.

"Santos should have kept his mouth shut." He picked up his other bag and began stuffing the rest of his belongings haphazardly into it. He couldn't stay and discuss this with her, couldn't deal with the emotions that flowed rawly through him. His feelings for her were too strong for him to deal with calmly when she was around, pushing him into looking at them, acknowledging them, accepting them.

"Santos thought that he was helping." Jilana moved to stand before him, her hand resting lightly on his muscular forearm. "I love you, Dante. You can't leave."

Dante sighed. He could feel the heat of her touch spreading through his body, warming him, threatening to melt the wall of ice that he had erected around his heart. "I have to," he said softly. "You saw what I did in the hall. I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you or Danny."

Jilana's throat tightened at the anguish in his voice. He believed himself to be a monster, someone capable of hurting those he loved without a second thought. "I saw you save my son. He would have died from that head injury if you hadn't healed him."

Dante sighed. "I killed the one who hurt him, though. I did what I swore I would never do."

"Accessing your powers doesn't make you a monster. If you hadn't, Danny wouldn't be alive now and neither would you. Assad would be ruling these people, killing those who opposed him." Jilana paused, feeling as though she was losing this man who held her heart in his hands. "If you were your father, only you would be alive now, no one else, not even me. Your father was obsessed with your mother and as a result sought to punish and destroy those who hurt her. When you saw Danny hurt, you didn't lash out against Assad. Instead, you assessed the injury and healed him. When you saw Assad's men pushing me around, you didn't kill them with one of those energy blasts from your hands. Instead you found a way to get me free of them before turning your attention to Assad. You sought to keep everyone safe, even at the height of your powers, you remained in control and focused on what needed doing."

"We don't know that the next time something like this happens I won't loose control. I can't risk it, Jilana. I won't risk it." Shaking off her hand he picked up the two bags and walked to the door, his back ramrod stiff as he forced himself not to look back.

Jilana clung to the bedpost, unable to stand unsupported as she watched him walk out of the room. Tears flowed down her face, falling unheeded onto the floor. She felt as though she would shatter into thousands of jagged pieces if she tried to move. "Dante! Dante, don't go! I love you!" Her voice broke as the heartbreak consumed her with its raw intensity.

Dante paused slightly at her words, feeling them strike deep into his heart. He wanted to stay, wanted to believe so desperately in what she had said, to trust in the love that flowed between them but he was too afraid. He had seen what love had done to his father, how the magic within him had turned love into an obsession that had destroyed all those around him who had hurt or threatened her. He could not do that to Jilana, could not allow himself to be that deeply involved with her. He had to go, to leave her, to be alone once more as he had always been.

"I love you, Jilana," he whispered so softly that she didn't hear him before continuing out of the chamber and down the stairs, his heart breaking with every step that he took away from her.