ALEXANDER
The air inside the room feels wrong.
Too heated. Too tensed. Even the torches burn low, their flames wavering as if the walls themselves are listening.
Emmaline stands a few steps away from me, her back straight, her face pale but composed. I can see the tremor in her fingers even though she tries to hide it. She looks at me like she’s not sure who I am anymore.
When she tells me she can’t go with me, the words don’t surprise me. I knew this wouldn’t be simple, Dante wouldn’t have let it be.
I take a breath and step closer, keeping my voice low and steady. “Then we’ll fix what’s keeping you here first.”
Her eyes flicker with confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I heard you’ve been linked to one of Dante’s witches,” I say. “If that’s true, we find her. We end whatever spell she
