Cassel — POV
I know Rosalia is someone special.
I've known it from the very beginning.
There is something about her presence that refuses to blend into the background, something that disrupts the natural order of our world.
And I know—somehow—that she knows far too much. Far more than she should. As if she's standing half a step ahead of fate itself.
I also know she has probably never met this man face-to-face before.
And I know—without a doubt—that she doesn't harbor any romantic feelings for him.
I can see that clearly.
Her heartbeat doesn't change for him.
Her breath doesn't falter.
But still…
I can't stand the way she looks at him.
Why?
Because that look—brief, focused, filled with recognition—doesn't belong to just anyone.
Because somehow, impossibly, he seems special to her.
And that… that is what claws at my chest.
My brows knitted together before I even realized what I was doing. My hand moved on instinct, clamping firmly over Rosalia's mouth.
