The night had already turned red.
Not metaphorically — literally red, as though the sky above the ruins bled into the earth.
Smoke curled like veins of fire, the wind carrying the metallic scent of danger.
The ground trembled with the weight of everything unraveling.
Romeo's fingers were inches from the black book about to set ablaze when....THUD.
A boot slammed brutally into his spine.
His scream tore out, sharp and short, as his body was launched forward. He hit his head hard on a stone and passed out.
The black book flew from his hand, spinning wildly before crashing onto the dirt, skidding directly toward Donato.
Donato gasped, blood pouring down his thigh like a leaking river.
His jaw locked in agony, but he dragged himself forward on his elbows.
Every move cut fire through his leg, but he didn't care.
That book was the Morano destiny—his destiny—and he refused to die without holding it again.
The sky pulsed crimson. A strange heat coiled through the air.
