Dante's eyes flickered, but he said nothing, moving instead to the next. "The Navel. The core. It fuels will, hunger, ambition. It is the fire of action. Without it, even power dies stillborn."
"The Root." His tone grew darker, heavier. "It anchors. It is survival, bloodline, instinct. A being without its root is nothing but drifting ash."
Alina's breath came a little faster. "And the last?" she whispered.
Dante's expression changed, a shadow crossing his face. His voice dropped lower, his crimson eyes seeming to burn even more fiercely. "The Shadow. The seventh. Few even speak of it. It does not lie within the body, but behind it. It is everything you fear, everything you bury, everything you deny. To open it is to face yourself. Most are destroyed when they try. But those who survive… become unstoppable."
