The sky was choked with smoke.
Ash fell like snow through the ruined archways of the DeLuca stronghold, ghosting over blood-slicked marble and fractured stone. Once-proud banners hung in tatters, fluttering weakly in the toxic wind. The thunder of gunfire had faded into distant echoes, replaced by the low moans of the wounded and the sharp crackle of flames devouring what little remained untouched.
Alessandro couldn’t hear anything but her breathing.
Or rather—the ragged stutter of it.
“Elena,” he whispered, the name trembling on his lips like a prayer, like a curse. “Stay with me.”
She was crumpled against him, her body frighteningly still except for the erratic rise and fall of her chest. Blood soaked the front of her shirt, blooming dark and viscous beneath his shaking hands. It ra
