The sea churned violently as Marcus’s warship cut through the waves, slicing toward the coast like a blade drawn for war.

He stood at the bow, coat flapping in the wind, eyes fixed on the distant cliffs that housed the ancient Rossi vault.

“They’ve opened it,” he murmured.

His second-in-command, Vittore, swallowed hard. “How can you be sure?”

Marcus turned slowly, the faint crimson glow in his eyes betraying the unnatural power that now coursed through him.

“Because I can feel it in my blood. She’s wearing the ring.”

Deep inside the vault, Elena stared at the strange mark seared into her skin. The sigil throbbed faintly—alive, as if it...