CHAPTER 137: THE WAKING

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.

It was hers—the soft cream walls, the scent of lavender, the rain whispering against the balcony doors.

She sat up slowly, the sheets pooling at her waist.

"What... happened?" she asked, voice fragile.

Luca exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "You tell me. I woke you up this morning, and you wouldn’t stop mumbling about the Codex, Seraphina, blood, and fire."

Her heart skipped. "Seraphina.... " she began, but he raised a hand gently.

"I think she should be fine," he said. "She called you last night on our way back. You didn’t answer."

Alessia’s brows knit together. "Called me?"

He nodded, picking up her phone from the nightstand.

The missed call glowed on the screen—Seraphina—10:47 p.m.

"I tried waking you," Luca continued, "but you were out cold. Must’ve been exhausted after the Council’s assessment."

He smiled faintly then, almost teasing. "So I did what any decent man would do to his wife."

Alessia blinked. "And what did you do to me?"

He reached for the tablet on the dresser, tapped the screen, and the CCTV footage flickered to life.

The timestamp glowed in the corner—11:06 p.m.

On the video, the black Morano car pulled into the estate courtyard.

Luca stepped out first, rain pouring over him in silver streaks.

Then one of his opened the passenger door. Luca got out of the car and lifted her sleeping body into his arms.

Alessia watched, breath caught in her throat.

The way his coat shielded her from the rain.

The way his hand lingered at her back, careful not to wake her.

He carried her up the marble steps like something sacred, the thunder rolling behind them.

Then the footage showed him setting her gently on the bed, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face.

He hesitated for a moment then unzipped her rain-soaked jacket and replaced it with her silk nightgown, moving with the kind of quiet reverence that didn’t need words.

When the screen went dark again, Luca looked up, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "I didn’t want to disturb you," he said softly. "You looked... peaceful while sleeping, like the storm hadn’t touched you."

Alessia swallowed, her heartbeat loud in her ears. "So everything—the asylum, Seraphina dying, the Codex—it was all..."

He touched her cheek. "A dream, cara mia."

Her breath trembled. "It felt so real."

"Sometimes," Luca said, "our fears do."

She sat in silence, staring at the faint imprint of his hand against hers.

The images from her dream flashed again—Seraphina’s hollow eyes, the Codex whispering, the mansion burning from the inside out.

She looked at him. "In the dream... she wasn’t fine, Luca. She was dying. And the Codex... "

He frowned, sliding onto the bed beside her. "Tell me."

And she did.

She told him everything—the asylum, the storm, the infection that burned like mercury under her skin. The radio voice that called her name, The explosion, The feeling of something inside her, whispering salvation and sacrifice.

Her voice broke once, but she kept going, needing to spill it before it curdled inside her.

When she finished, the rain had softened to a distant murmur.

Luca didn’t speak for a long time.

He just watched her, his thumb tracing slow circles on her palm.

Finally, he said, "You’ve been through distress, Alessia.

The Council’s tests—they take more than blood. They mess with the mind."

"It wasn’t just a dream," she murmured. "It felt like... a warning."

Luca’s gaze lingered on her lips, then her eyes. "Then maybe," he said quietly, "you need distance from all of it."

She tilted her head. "Distance?"

He smiled, a hint of mischief threading through the fatigue. "Yes... From the Council. From codes, prophecies, and bloodlines. From everything that turns your heart into a battlefield."

Her breath hitched as he brushed a stray strand of hair from her neck.

His fingers lingered, tracing the edge of her collarbone.

"You have been fighting shadows, bella mia," he said, voice low. "Maybe it’s time we chase the light for once."

Her chest tightened, not from fear, but something sweeter—dangerous in its own way. "And how exactly do we do that?"

He leaned closer, lips ghosting her ear. "We disappear."

She blinked. "Disappear?"

"A vacation," Luca said simply. "Somewhere the Council can’t reach. Somewhere the Codex doesn’t exist. I haven’t been having sweet, juicy moments with you lately, and frankly..." His grin was wicked now, eyes dark with something she couldn’t quite name. "...I’m starting to think that’s the real curse here."

Her lips parted, a startled laugh slipping through before she caught it. "Luca.... "

But he was already standing, stretching, the stormlight catching the silver cross at his throat. "Pack lightly," he said. "We leave tonight."

Alessia watched him walk toward the door, her pulse thrumming in her wrist where his touch still burned. Something in his tone—too sure, too sudden—sent a ripple through her.

The dream still lingered. The Codex’s whisper still echoed faintly at the back of her mind.

And as Luca disappeared into the hall, Alessia smiled.

His voice still lingered in the air—smooth, commanding, threaded with that dangerous warmth that always melted her resolve. Every word he’d spoken replayed in her mind, a quiet symphony of devotion and dominance.

She loved the way he worshipped her not with empty vows, but with the quiet, deliberate reverence of a man who could destroy the world and still choose to kneel for her.

Her fingers brushed her lips, tracing the ghost of his last smile.

A shiver of something sweet and sinful ran down her spine.

She laughed softly to herself, the sound barely above a whisper. "You’ll be the death of me, Luca Morano," she murmured.

Still smiling, she pressed her hand to her chest, feeling her heartbeat steady, wild beneath her palm and then to her neck, where the cold weight of the diamond necklace rested against her skin.

The piece was the ancient, unmistakably Morano silver filigree carved around a black diamond that caught the light like frozen fire. Luca had fastened it around her neck few weeks ago.

The memory pulled a smile to her lips again.

But as her fingers traced the clasp, she felt something she hadn’t not notice before, a small hinge near the diamond’s edge.

Curious, she turned it gently between her fingers.

A soft click.

The pendant opened like a tiny locket, delicate and precise.

Inside, time itself seemed to hold its breath.

A faded photograph rested within—a young woman with dark hair and solemn eyes, her beauty quiet but haunting. In her arms, she held a child, no more than three or four, clutching a small silver cross identical to the one Luca wore.

Alessia’s breath caught and her smile vanished.

Her pulse quickened as she stared at the image, a cold ripple running down her spine.

She didn’t recognize the woman or the child. Yet the resemblance, the sharpness of the jaw, the quiet fire in the eyes—felt too familiar to be coincidence.

Her throat tightened.

Who was she?

Her heart whispered a question her mind didn’t want to form.

Could this woman be Luca’s first love... And they had a child together?

He had never told her about it either.....