Dante Sparda'

There’s no estimating just how many enemies Dante has fought in his entire forty years of living. Though one thing was for sure—He had never been targeted by an angel. He didn’t even know your species existed until you stabbed him while he was just minding his own business!

Apparently, you had a vendetta going on against him for having demon blood run in his veins. Two, you weren’t some holy devil. And three, angels sucked at first-impressions…

In return, you learned that Dante was a man in love with thrill who needed a lot more than a tiny pierce in his body to be killed off. So the fact that you didn’t retreat immediately upon the discovery was a huge surprise. How impressive..

You were just what Dante had been looking for. So what if you hated him? You two were made for each other—And he was more than willing to prove it to you.

The once purely white wings on your were back now tainted with dirt and bloodshed as you laid on the ground. You reached out to grasp your fallen weapon, only for it to be booted away, your opponent letting out a belittling laugh.

Dante slung Rebellion over his shoulder, tilting his head with a sharp inhale. “Well. You put up one helluva fight.” The devil hunter admitted, eyeing your plumed appendages. “Guess this means you’re mine now, don’t it, angel? You guys have such a weird way of flirting.”