Her heart kicked under my palm as I released a sobbing exhale.
Gods, yes, that’s it. Come back to me.
“Again,” Emilia hissed, sharper than a slap to the face. “Breathe, girl.”
My beautiful, fearless, rebellious wife’s eyes flew open.
They were wrong—all black, no whites, nothing but a shifting void of nothingness staring back at me, aching to swallow me alive. She stared at me like she saw something no one else could. In those twin voids, I was reflected as the outline of a hulking creature, nothing vampire in that bestial form.
My very soul trembled, because she was seeing me as the monster I truly was.
Then her body convulsed, torquing up off the slab as she sucked in a choking, ragged breath. The best fucking sound I’d ever heard in my entire life, and I went to lift my hand…
“Stop, don’t touch her,” Emilia snapped, and every muscle in my body froze.
Her knife flicked through the air. Phantom pain flared from my heart to the gash on my palm as she sliced through some invisible connection between the three of us, severing our contact. Sound crashed in. My own harsh breathing, Nico’s muttered curses, the wet coughs racking Emberline’s chest.
“Ember,” I choked out, leaning over her. “Tesoro. Look at me. Look at me.”
She struggled to focus, eyes rolling wildly, body wracked by shivers, legs shaking.
“Dante?” Her voice was shredded, raw, like she’d swallowed broken shells. “I… I was in the…Oh, gods.”
Her expression went from confused to horrified, eyes staring, wrapping her arms around herself. Her savaged wrists were bleeding, red streaking over white skin, dark eyes bouncing everywhere—to the candles, the knife in Emilia’s hand, back to me.
“Where am I? I was in the palazzo… beneath the…”
“You’re alive. I found you in the water. But I came… too late.” I swallowed. “I tried… every spell I knew, but I couldn’t bring you back.”
Ember turned her head slowly, wincing, eyes bleary with confusion and horror.
“So, you… brought me here, instead.” She swallowed, turned to Emilia, and grimaced. “And you saved me. Why?”
Emilia’s mouth curved. “Because your death would be… inconvenient at the moment. And because certain males have grown comfortable, believing themselves untouchable. I will enjoy watching them proven wrong.”
She stepped closer, resting two fingers lightly on my wife’s forehead.
Magic shivered through the air, the lightest touch of power, yet cold enough to frost every heartbeat, leave a chill on my battered skin.
Emberline shuddered, eyes slipping closed for a moment, then snapping open again. Clear. They were clear and espresso brown and… normal.
No… almost normal.
In the flickering light of a hundred red candles, there, at the very rim of the iris, was a thin, silver ring that hadn’t been there before. Like a reflection of a crescent moon on still water. Like the moon that hung above Venice, right now.
Like a brand on her soul.
“What did you do?” I demanded, shoving Emilia’s hand away.
She arched one elegant brow, studying me like I was an idiot. “I anchored her. She crossed the threshold, Dante. Entering the death realm for even a short time leaves a darkness behind. I merely… tidied up the edges a bit.
“You will find,”—she turned to Emberline—“that things feel different now. The world will be sharper. The dark willwhisper your name more loudly. Death does not like to be cheated.”
My wife licked her cracked lips. “What do you want for this?” she asked, seeming less afraid than she was curious. “I’m sure you have a price.”
Emilia laughed softly. “Smart girl. Enzo brought you up right, but then, your father always was my favorite.”
Her gaze glanced off Nico, landing on me.
