Chapter 160

Draven’s POV

“No… fucking no,” I murmured, my voice barely more than a rasp. The truth Marcello had just revealed sent my mind spinning, edges of reality blurring. “Maeve can’t be the vessel.” Denial knotted in my chest as I fought to refuse the impossible.

I watched in horror as Marcello sagged into the nearest wooden chair, legs scraping softly across the stone floor. He laced his fingers until his knuckles turned white, the silence between us thick with unspoken dread.

“How can you be so sure?” I whispered, stepping toward him.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaustion etched in every line of his face. “I’ve cast the spell countless times,” he said, sorrow weighing down his words. “I compared her blood to all the other samples—Maeve’s is different, Drave