Angelo
You don’t get to pick your breaking point, but watching Rosalia get yanked toward a frozen tundra by a glowing man with Vincezio’s eyes, while her bloodline’s power surges and fades, is mine. I’m slumped in the burning city’s rubble, blood pooling, my wolf a faint echo as Rosalia clutches her father’s hand, his voice, “Run,” barely audible over the howling wind. The altar’s collapsed, its runes dead, but the woman’s shattered talisman still hums, her scream lingering. Isabella’s pinned by Moretti’s wolves, her blood staining the ash, and Elena’s fighting, her glow gone but her eyes fierce. Camila’s glow is dim, her betrayal a raw wound, and Andre’s power is ash, his journal destroyed. Rizzo’s talisman glows, his claim on Rosalia a blade at her throat, and a new portal’s void of sta
