Makayla’s breath was shallow.
She couldn’t look away from the blade.
It sat on its pedestal like it had been waiting for them. The weapon gleamed in the dim light, its silver edge laced with something darker—something almost alive.
A blade meant to kill.
And not just anything.
Gino.
Makayla’s fingers twitched, a storm brewing beneath her skin. Her mind was racing, spinning through a thousand possibilities, but only one question clawed its way out.
"Why?"
She turned to her mother. “Why does this exist? Why is there a weapon meant to kill him?”
Celine’s golden eyes never left the blade. “Because whatever Gino is—whoever made him—was afraid.”
Gino exhaled slowly, his shoulders rigid. “They should be.”
Makayla snapped her gaze to him.
He wasn’t looking at them.
He was staring at t
