Angelo
You don’t get to choose when you break, but watching Rosalia fight for her bloodline in a burning city, surrounded by wolves tearing each other apart, is cracking me wide open. I’m slumped in ash and rubble, my blood mixing with the scorched earth, barely clinging to life as Rosalia’s glow sparks, faint but fierce, against Andre’s journal, its runes blazing with her stolen power. The silver wolf, maybe Vincezio, just collapsed after breaking Rizzo’s talisman, its growl, “Claim it,” still echoing. Isabella’s dragging me, her strength fading, her eyes locked on Rosalia, who’s facing Andre, Camila, and a new portal’s throne. Moretti’s wolves are everywhere, his talisman cracked but holding, and I’m failing Rosalia, my secrets a weight that’s pulling us under. Trust is a dream, betraya
