The night was colder than usual. The moon hid behind thick clouds, and the wind whispered through the trees like it carried secrets too heavy to tell. Aria stood by the window, her fingers trembling around the small glass pendant that once belonged to Silas. The same pendant they had exchanged as a promise, a blood oath sealed under the rain years ago.
Now, that same promise felt like a curse.
She pressed the pendant to her chest, trying to calm the storm inside her. Every night since Silas's return, she had been waking up with strange dreams, visions of blood, fire, and voices calling her name. It wasn't fear anymore; it was obsession. She needed to know the truth. Why was he back? How had he survived when she buried him with her own hands?
Aria turned as Lorenzo entered the room. He looked tired, shadows under his eyes, his shirt half-buttoned, his expression hard.
"You haven't slept," he said quietly.
"I can't," she whispered.
