The first thing Alessia felt was warmth.
Not the sterile heat of the Codex or the burning pulse beneath her skin but soft, golden warmth that spilled across her face like morning light through lace curtains.
Her eyelids fluttered open.
The world was silent, no alarms, no whispers in the walls.
Only the faint hum of rain against glass and the romantic rhythmic beating of a heart beside her.
Luca's.
She blinked, the remnants of her dream clinging to her like cobwebs. Smokes, Screams... A mansion drenched in red light. The Codex pulsing on the floor like a living wound. And then—nothing.
Her throat was dry, her pulse too calm.
"Luca…" she whispered.
He stirred in the chair beside the bed, his dark hair tousled, pyjama top half-unbuttoned, exhaustion etched beneath his eyes.
When he looked up, relief broke through the haze. "Finally," he breathed, standing quickly. "You are awake."
Her gaze darted around.
The room wasn't the mansion hall.
