Liana's POV
They hit me like lightning.
Not the sound—no. Something more than that.
It was within me.
Within my blood. Within my bones.
Like my body had shouted out a truth that my mind had been too stupid to realize.
I awoke choking on nothing.
The suite was shrouded in blackness, too still, too silent, as if the air had been holding its breath for all these centuries and only now recalled me. My skin slick, smooth, glued to me like guilt.
The pillows between Dante and me still sat there—our Switzerland of sadness, of silence.
And then I saw something.
My hand.
Glowing.
Not bright. Not brilliant. Just a throb, white and slow, as though moonlight had shifted in under my skin and wrapped itself up to sleep. It made no sound. It didn't persist.
The radiance faded like something
