Matteo
Gideon lay broken at the base of the altar, a puppet with its strings severed. The "Source" below us pulsed with a rhythmic, sickening light, but my focus was entirely on the woman standing beside me. Aveline’s violet eyes were the only thing grounding me as the psychic static of the vault tried to tear my mind apart.
"We have to move," she whispered, her voice a sharp command that cut through the haze.
I shifted back to my human form, the skin of my side knitting together in a jagged, painful mess of scar tissue and fresh blood. I grabbed my jacket from the floor, not for warmth, but to hide the vulnerability of my bare chest. We climbed the stone stairs of the chapel, the air growing hotter, thicker with a scent that didn't belong in the sanctuary of the dead.
I pushed open th
