The storm outside hadn’t eased. Rain slammed against the stone walls in a vicious rhythm, as if the world itself was warning them that dawn would not be kind. Elena felt it before she saw it, the slow, pulsing warmth creeping up her spine, settling heavily in her chest. The bond was waking, responding to the first hints of morning light seeping through the sky.
Dante felt it too. She didn’t need him to say it. His jaw tightened, his breath stilled, and the faint, almost imperceptible glow in his eyes sharpened. The Rite had tied them together, but the final stage, the Awakening, would happen at sunrise. And once it did, every faction that wanted control of her would sense it instantly.
Elena turned toward the doorway, heart thumping as the betrayer, the man Dante once trusted, stepped fu
