Noa hit the floor hard.
His hands scrambled in the dark, nails scraping against smooth wood, cold marble, something soft that might’ve been a rug but it was impossible to tell. His breath came fast and ragged. The room around him was pitch black. No lights, no moonlight, no sense of where he was.
Just… gone.
One second he was in Alessio’s bed. Now this.
He blinked, heart hammering.
Where the f**k am I?
His voice caught in his throat. He tried to speak but nothing came out, just a shallow wheeze.
His palms burned. His knees throbbed. His mouth was dry.
It felt like a cellar. Or a basement. Cold, damp, underground. There was a scent to it: dust, old wood, and underneath it all… blood.
Noa froze.
Not just blood. Copper. Iron. Rot.
Someone had died down here.
He pressed both hands
