The dawn light had waned, leaving the room half–lit in a soft gray. Alex lay curled against Liam's side, heart still fluttering from the surge of yesterday's memories. He closed his eyes, trying to steady himself against the tide of thoughts that threatened to pull him under.
Liam noticed it first—how the air around the estate had a hum, not the kind that came from life, but from something tampered. Something unholy.
Alex had been quiet all morning, like his mind was pacing inside itself. Liam could feel it. Even with their bodies tangled in silken sheets hours ago, their lips swollen from need, there had been an edge to Alex's kisses. Like he was distracted, on the verge of remembering something painful.
But that was nothing compared to what was unfolding now.
Far from the estate... in a cold, hollow crypt…
Jude stood in the remnants of old chapel ruins, his fingers blood-streaked, pressed against a mirror cracked with cursed glass—shards.
