{Elena’s pov}
The storm broke sometime after midnight. Heavy rain slid down the windows, each drop tapping softly like distant footsteps. I sat at the edge of Nico’s bed, the thin silk robe clinging to my damp skin from the bath, but my mind was far from the warmth of this room. I could still see the figure on the screen. The way he moved. The ghost of familiarity curled at the edges of my thoughts, sharp and uncertain.
Dante.
I didn’t know why the name tasted like metal in my mouth. I didn’t know why my heart twisted painfully when I thought of him. All I knew was that I had seen him before. Not in a dream, not in some blurred fragment of memory, but recently. Clear as day. The auction.
The night everything changed.
I squeezed my eyes shut. The sound of the crowd roared back into my
