Selene’s P.O.V
I couldn’t stop shaking.
The image of Dante—drenched in blood, emotionless—kept replaying in my mind like a nightmare on loop. Even as I sat in the bathroom hours later, curled up on the cold tiled floor, I couldn’t unsee it. I couldn’t unfeel the way my heart had stopped when our eyes met.
I had followed him to surprise him. I thought maybe, just maybe, we could feel normal again. But there was nothing normal about what I saw. Nothing warm. Nothing loving.
Just blood.
He hadn’t even flinched. That terrified me the most.
Who had he hurt? Who had he killed?
The scent of blood lingered in my nose, a sickening reminder of what I had witnessed. My hands trembled as I gripped the sink, staring at my pale reflection. I looked like a ghost of myself. I barely recognized the
