Random Art
The clock on the nightstand glowed "6:14 PM" when Dante woke up. His near-superhuman physique had done its work while he slept. The worst of the exhaustion had passed. He could tap into Death's Resonance for a few minutes without passing out—more than enough to save his own life in a pinch.
He sat up and rubbed his face, only to realize Death had removed his skull-face disguise. The second observation made his heart do a stupid little flip. Folded clothes rested neatly at the foot of the bed, which meant Silvija had been here.
How did he know it was Silvija and not Anna? Through the note sitting on top of the clothes spoke in a language only one woman in this building used.
[Check the fridge.]
Three words without a single personal touch. This wasn't his girlfriend leaving him a sweet message. This was Silver Sable communicating in the most efficient way possible while withholding warmth.
'She's definitely pissed.'
And she had every right to be. He had brushed her off before she could offer her help, essentially telling her he could handle it alone. The next thing she knew, he and Felicia were on every news channel. If that wasn't enough, he had come back half-dead, collapsed in her bed, and slept away the afternoon while she probably fumed.
'No more screw-ups.'
A quick shower washed away the dried sweat and grime accumulated during the chase earlier. He padded barefoot into the kitchen. Smokie's was his last meal, after which he had burned quite the energy with different resonances.
He pulled the fridge open and stared.
Meat filled almost every shelf. Beef, chicken, lamb, even exotic cuts. Vegetables were tucked into the side shelves. And in a glass container on the top shelf sat a familiar German chicken dish. The one she had made for him the other day.
Most women would've woken him up for a lecture or left him to starve. Or at minimum, written a note explaining how he had screwed up and why he didn't deserve kindness right now. Silvija had done none of those things. She had left clothes for him, stocked her entire fridge based on his meat obsession, and cooked his favorite dish—she gave him everything he needed, then left to cool down in her own way.
He really did have the sweetest girlfriend.
'I'm so fucking lucky.'
Dante pulled out the chicken dish and set it in the microwave. While it heated, he fished his phone out of his pocket. A stack of notifications glared back at him, one of which was a missed call from Emma Frost.
'Probably wants to ask why I was dressed like that.'
Calling her back ranked pretty low on his priority list. He checked his other messages instead.
[Ava: Older sister is training like crazy.]
[Ava: What the hell did you do???]
[Ava: Fix it ASAP or I'll go feral on you]
Dante winced. If Ava was threatening him after he promised to make her stronger, then Silvija's training had gone beyond intense.
"It might be worse than I thought."
He typed a quick reply: [Where is she now?]
The message was read instantly.
[Ava: Still training on the third floor.]
[I'll be there soon]
[Ava: YOU BETTER]
He could practically hear her growl through the screen. Ava and Silvija's bond transcended employer-employee or even mentor-student. They were sisters in all but blood.
Which meant Ava would absolutely go feral for Silvija.
The microwave beeped. Dante pulled out the plate, which was just warm to his touch now. He instinctively pressed a hand to his chest, feeling an abundance of solar radiation within him. The solar radiation core—Helio Reactor—slowly evolved to contain more and more solar radiation.
He opened Gwen's texts while taking his first bite.
[Gwen: Swung all the way from the hospital. No one should know Felicia is here.]
[Gwen: Your stupid girlfriend rated it 9.99/10.]
[Gwen: I don't owe you anything now.]
He couldn't help but chuckle. The 9.99/10 rating was classic Felicia. In her world, only she deserved a perfect ten. Everyone else was inherently inferior.
'I'm glad she didn't say anything to Gwen.'
The Felicia he'd first met in the mall would've thrown Gwen's secret identity in her face for a quick laugh. Now, she was a bit more considerate of others' feelings.
After typing a quick thanks to Gwen, he opened the next thread, which was coincidentally Felicia.
[Felicia: Darling, are you there?]
[Felicia: Silvija said you're resting]
[Felicia: Good night, I guess]
[Felicia: I'll also take a nap]
The first text was around when Gwen dropped Felicia here. Seeing no reply, she had reached out to Silvija for his whereabouts. His girlfriend and his half-girlfriend talked about him while he slept… That could've gone very badly. The last time these two met, Silvija had aimed a glock at Felicia's forehead.
Dante typed back a short reply: [Just woke up. You okay?]
He waited, but there was no immediate read receipt. Felicia was probably still asleep, which was reasonable after the hell she had been through today.
'I'll see her after Silvija.'
He finished the last of his chicken in three large bites, washed his hands, and rushed to the training area on the third floor.
Dante heard her before he saw her. The rhythmic thud-thud-thud of fists hitting a sandbag came from the upper area. She wore black shorts and a completely soaked gray tank top that clung to her. Looking at her outfit one wouldn't believe it was the coldest Manhattan had ever been in its history.
Even when he loudly climbed the stairs, she didn't seem to notice or care.
Her ponytail whipped with each twist of her torso, as she rained down jabs, crosses, hooks, knees, and multiple variations of elbow strikes on the sandbag. It wasn't training. This was venting through violence.
Ava, who had been leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, locked her green on him. He jerked his head toward the door in a clear get lost gesture.
Ava approached him in big strides and stopped just inside his personal space. "Fix this."
"I will."
Ava didn't speak, just gazing at him intently. "I'll trust you this time. If you break her heart… I'll kill you. Or die trying."
He gave her shoulder a brief, reassuring pat, and then stepped past her. The door clicked shut behind him a few seconds later.
Silvija stopped beating the sandbag and turned around, finally acknowledging his existence.
Her ice-blue eyes were either completely empty of emotion or so flooded with them. He genuinely couldn't tell which.
"Every time I feel good about this—about whatever we have going on—you do something to make me regret it."
"My Royal Highness, can you list this peasant's crimes?"
She grabbed the hand wraps with her teeth and ripped them off violently before spitting the fabric on the floor. Her knuckles were red and swollen underneath.
Dante winced. She'd been punishing herself as much as the sandbag.
"Do you know the consequences of what you did today?"
"Maybe."
He knew exactly what stepping out publicly meant. Ghost Spider's powers could be explained away with pseudoscience. But a burning skeleton wreathed in mystical blue flames was the rawest form of the supernatural, bound to draw attention from everyone. Mutants would want to know if he was one of them. SHIELD would want him studied and ideally controlled. Every crime lord and hiding supervillain would be re-evaluating their risk assessment. Mystic organizations would start poking around for information.
Simply put, he'd taken a massive risk to save Felicia in the most public way possible.
Silvija pulled her phone from her shorts pocket and tapped the screen a few times. "Look at this."
Dante narrowed his eyes on the text message displayed: [Phil Coulson: Miss Sable, SHIELD has had a cordial relationship with Silver Sable International and Symkaria since forever.]
[It would be a huge help to us if you could accept our request to arrange a meeting with the vigilante "Skullfire".]
The timestamp showed it had been sent an hour ago. "Skullfire" referred to him. He still didn't like the name the media had slapped on him. This was after he specially stated he didn't want any superhero name.
"Those clowns work fast."
He'd never expected to hide his identity from SHIELD. They had tracking and surveilling resources on another level from the FBI. But tracking him down and connecting him to Silvija within hours of his public appearance showed their terrifying power.
Silvija shoved her phone into her pocket and gave him an intense frown. "SHIELD knows what you did, and you're still in the mood to joke about it?"
"I have no reason to take them seriously," he said calmly. "If they mess with me, I'll blow them up."
He was a civil man with little love for violence, but he wouldn't let SHIELD or anyone walk all over him. There was a limit to his tolerance.
Silvija's eyes widened. She had that specific look of someone suddenly remembering crucial information.
It was stupid and also adorable.
She had been so deep in her anxiety about SHIELD, political fallout, and consequences that she had forgotten about his extraordinary powers. He was the man blessed by Death with a collection of powers that could make him near invincible for a few minutes or superhuman for hours. SHIELD would be utterly destroyed if he unleashed Hyperion Resonance.
"You really underestimate your man," Dante said, unable to keep the smirk off his face. "Don't forget I can control life and death."
"I wouldn't if you told me how strong you actually are," Silvija shot back immediately. "You never mentioned how your powers work either."
He didn't need telepathy to read the awkwardness she showed before she lied. She had been too consumed by worry to think rationally.
Dante stepped forward and pulled her into his arms before she could retreat. She struggled immediately by pushing her palms against his chest. However, he held on tight. After a few moments of futile resistance, she stopped struggling.
He could feel her warmth even through the cold sweat soaking her tank top. It had only been a day since he had hugged her, but he already missed this feeling.
Her arms came up slowly—not to push him away this time, but to rest against his sides. Not quite a hug, but close enough. "Seriously, you are so annoying sometimes."
"I missed you." he sighed. "You've been so cold to me since… last night."
"Why didn't you let me help?" she asked. "I could've talked to Norman. Said Felicia is my friend. He probably would've let her go."
Dante closed his eyes and rested his chin on top of her head, feeling her still-damp hair against his skin. "He used her father to lure her in. Why would he let her go after that?"
Silvija went very still.
He pulled back just enough to look down at her. "And besides, your double agent status is still needed for our operation. We can't let Norman get suspicious that his head of security is compromised."
Silvija let out a sigh against his chest. "I didn't know that man was her father."
"The saddest part is, Walter won't live a day without the symbiote," Dante said. "It's crazy that the man Felicia hates the most is keeping her father alive."
"Tragic." Silvija whispered before she drove her fist into his ribs in a half-hearted punch. "Can't you do something about it? You have Death's authority... right?"
Dante understood immediately. This wasn't just about Felicia's father. This was about Silvija's father, who had also passed away due to an incurable disease at the time. Silvija didn't want Felicia to experience the same pain she had lived with.
"I haven't mastered that power, but I'll try."
Silvija's expression became softer. "What about me then? You said you'd fight Death for me."
Dante reached for her right hand instead. He intertwined their fingers, feeling how easily her hand fit in his.
"That won't change," he said firmly. "Unless you don't want me anymore."
For a long moment, Silvija just stared at their connected hands with a small but real smile. Then, reluctantly, she pulled her hand back. The smile faded into something more serious, more Silver Sable than Silvija.
"Follow me."
She turned and jumped over the railing, dropping ten feet onto the mat. Her walk to the center of the sparring gave him a deja vu of their last sparring session.
Silvija chucked her phone aside and glanced up at him with a smirk. "I warmed up hard so I can beat the crap out of my three-timing lover."
Dante couldn't help but grin.
'So that's her play.'
Silvija might be a queen and the owner of a mercenary enterprise, but she would always be a warrior at her core. She had earned everything in her life through combat. Every pivotal choice in her life had been settled this way. Why would her heart be any different?
What came after this fight would be decided by who remained standing.
This was no longer a test. It was a trial by fire.
Lose, and he would bend to her terms: commit to her alone, or walk away entirely. Win, and he would earn the right to bend her to his terms instead—to ask her to accept Death and Felicia not as rivals, but as a necessary part of his life.
This was a fight he couldn't afford to lose.
He climbed the railing and leaped, dropping down before her with a heavy thud.
"Three-timing lover?" he asked innocently. "That's a strong accusation, My Royal Highness. Death and I haven't gone beyond kissing. I haven't even touched Felicia inappropriately, much less kiss her."
"Kissing is still cheating. And you'll pay for it." Silvija cocked her head. "You can't use your superpowers. Fight me as a human because I'm one."
Dante shook his head in disappointment. "I'll still have to go easy, or I'll ruin my girlfriend's beautiful face."
Silvija's lips twisted with a hint of mockery. "You had to use cheap tricks to win the other day. The same tactic won't work this time."
"Alright," Dante said, rolling his shoulders and feeling the pleasant stretch of warmed muscles. "Don't complain when I pin you again."
Her eyes flashed with an excited gleam. Right now, she wasn't any less battle-hungry than Ava.
"Try me."
***
You can read 20 more chapters on my Patreon!
Patreon.com/Lordheaven