Chapter 2: Kindling

Dante Voss never believed in fate.

He believed in cause and effect—the simple, brutal truth that actions had consequences, and those consequences usually ended in blood or ashes.

But as he stood on the rooftop overlooking the city, watching the skyline burn with the golden glow of the setting sun, he found himself wondering if meeting Eva Langley had been inevitable.

She hadn’t run.

She hadn’t screamed or begged, or even flinched in his presence. She had stood her ground, staring at him with those ice-blue eyes like she was trying to see through him.

That wasn’t how people looked at him.

People saw fire and death. They saw a villain, a monster.

Eva had looked at him like he was a question that needed answering.

Dante exhaled, dragging a gloved hand through his hair before turning away from the view.

He had more important things to focus on than a woman who had no place in his world.

For now, anyway.

He made his way through the winding streets of the city, his boots barely making a sound as he walked. The air was cold—his own doing. The heat of his power had leeched the warmth from the surrounding area, leaving the night with an unnatural chill.

It had been a long time since he had felt the cold.

He navigated the back alleys until he reached a rusted metal door, tucked between two crumbling buildings. There was no sign, no indication that anything important lay beyond it, but Dante knew better.

This was one of Lux’s safehouses.

Dante knocked twice, then three times in quick succession. A beat passed before a small panel slid open, revealing a pair of sharp gray eyes.

“Voss.” Lux’s voice was smooth, carrying a faint undertone of amusement. “Didn’t expect you so soon. Did you finally set the city on fire, or are you just here to complain?”

Dante smirked. “Little of both.”

The panel snapped shut, followed by the sound of locks disengaging. The door swung open, and Dante stepped inside.

The interior was just as Dante remembered—dimly lit, filled with scattered desks, screens displaying surveillance footage, and shelves stacked with files, weapons, and things that shouldn’t exist.

Lux leaned against one of the desks, arms crossed over his chest.

Lucian “Lux” Moreau wasn’t the kind of man you trusted, but he was the kind you listened to.

Once, he had been a hero—a promising one, even.

But Dante had heard the stories, had pieced together enough fragments of truth to know that Lux had seen something in the hero world that made him walk away.

And now, he thrived in the underworld, selling secrets and pulling strings.

Dante didn’t like him.

But he respected him.

Lux tilted his head, studying him. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

Dante leaned against the opposite wall, crossing his arms. “The Langley girl.”

Lux raised an eyebrow. “Eva?”

“You know her?”

Lux scoffed. “I know everyone worth knowing.” He studied Dante for a long moment before a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Let me guess. She wasn’t what you expected.”

Dante exhaled sharply. “No. She wasn’t.”

He had expected her to be like the rest of the heroes—naïve, arrogant, clinging to ideals that didn’t exist. He had expected her to be delicate, breakable.

Instead, she had been… something else entirely.

Lux’s smirk widened, as if reading his thoughts.

"Careful, Voss. Getting attached isn’t your style.”

Dante rolled his eyes. “I’m not attached.”

“Mm.” Lux didn’t sound convinced. “So, what do you want to know?”

Dante hesitated. He wasn’t sure why he was even asking. Maybe it was just curiosity. Maybe it was something else.

“What’s her story?”

Lux shrugged. “You probably already know the broad strokes. Born into one of the most powerful hero families in the country. The great Radiance’s daughter, the ‘perfect’ Titan’s sister. Except, unlike them, she didn’t get the gift. No powers. No golden spotlight. Just a liability to a family that values strength above all else.”

Dante already knew most of that. But hearing it so plainly made something in his chest tighten.

“And yet,” Lux continued, “instead of breaking under it, she walked away. Built her own life. She doesn’t belong to them, not really. And that’s why they hate it. Because she won’t be their pawn.”

Dante smirked, but there was no humor in it. “Sounds familiar.”

Lux gave him a knowing look. “Doesn’t it?”

Dante pushed off the wall. “She deserves answers.”

Lux exhaled. “And you’re the one to give them to her?”

“Maybe.”

“Why?”

Dante met his gaze, his expression unreadable.

"Because she’s already in the fire. Whether she knows it or not.”

Lux studied him for a long moment, then sighed. “Fine. I’ll see what I can dig up.”

Dante nodded once and turned to leave.

But before he reached the door, Lux called after him.

“Voss.”

Dante paused.

“You should be careful,” Lux said, voice unusually serious. “You’re playing with fire.”

Dante smirked over his shoulder. “I always do.”

By the time he left Lux’s safehouse, the city had settled into the lull of midnight. The streets were quieter, the neon lights flickering like dying embers in the dark.

Dante pulled his hood up, blending into the shadows as he moved. He should go back to one of his own safehouses, get some rest, plan his next move.

Instead, he found himself heading toward the Langley estate.

It wasn’t a decision. It was an impulse.

Lux was right—he didn’t get attached. He didn’t care about people. Not anymore.

But Eva was different.

Not because of who she was, but because of who she wasn’t.

She wasn’t a pawn in the hero world. She wasn’t corrupt, wasn’t hiding behind the same self-righteous lies as the rest of them.

And she wasn’t afraid of him.

That, more than anything, made her dangerous.

Dante scaled the side of a nearby building with practiced ease, perching on the edge of the rooftop as he looked down at the Langley estate below.

It was pristine. White marble, golden-lit windows, the kind of mansion that screamed untouchable.

But Dante knew better.