Rosalia
So, here’s a life tip: when your best friend shows up in the middle of a forest showdown with a magic antidote vial, looking like she just stepped out of a survivalist t****k, maybe don’t pop the cork right away. I’m clutching the vial Camila tossed me, my side burning from the silver dart, while behind me, Angelo’s wolf form is a blur of blood and fury, holding off Enzo, Luca, and a freaking monster that looks like it flunked out of werewolf school.
And Camila? She’s standing there, all wide-eyed and urgent, but my gut’s screaming: trap. Trust is a currency I’m fresh out of, and I’m not about to go bankrupt.
“Rosalia, drink it!” Camila hisses, inching closer, her healer’s bag swinging. Her voice is pure bestie panic, but there’s a twitch in her jaw, a flicker I’ve never seen b
