The sun never rose in the cursed lands. Only a sickly haze hung in the air, as if the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to shatter the stillness. In the wake of Lorenzo's haunting return, Selena and Dante had returned to the safe house hidden deep beneath the catacombs of the old Valerio estate. But there was no peace. No silence. Not anymore.
Selena sat near the fireplace, arms wrapped tightly around herself, though no flame could warm the chill that had crept into her bones. Her mind reeled with the memory of Lorenzo—the cruelty in his smile, the blood on his hands, and the terrifying realization that Dante's curse had birthed something far more malevolent than either of them had imagined.
Dante paced behind her, shirtless, sweat glistening on his skin as though he'd been fighting ghosts. Maybe he had.
"You haven't said a word," Selena finally whispered.
His steps halted. "Because I don't know what to say."
"Start with the truth."
