Matteo's voice cut through the air like a blade.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, Damiano? Treating a woman like that? A woman so beautiful… so pure?"
Damiano's green eyes snapped to him, cold as ice, but burning with fury.
"Pure?!" His laughter was sharp, bitter. "She's far from pure. She's a vile beast who deserves nothing but pain."
Matteo's jaw tightened, fists flexing at his sides. His broad chest heaved as though it took every ounce of restraint not to swing at him.
"Not everyone is like you, Damiano. She might just be a fragile human. Don't end up doing something you'll regret or killing her like you did past foes and partners, because you have nothing but darkness in your heart."
His words lingered, heavy with warning. With a final glare, Matteo turned on his heel and stormed away, leaving the air thick with tension.
———————
Damiano stood rooted in the garden, his breath sharp, his fists clenched. Why did it feel like fire roared in his chest when Matteo touched her? Why did rage claw at him at the sight of her smiling at another man?
"Fuck," he muttered, dragging his hands through his dark hair. "What the hell is wrong with me?"
A flicker of movement caught his eye. A butterfly, pale blue, drifting lazily through the air. It landed on a rose petal, dipping into its heart.
Damiano froze.
The roses… they were alive. All of them.
The entire garden, once blackened and dead, now blazed with life. Crimson, white, and pink blossoms swayed in the breeze, petals soft as silk, fragrance heavy in the air. Even the grass shimmered with dew as though reborn.
His pulse thundered. "Who the fuck…" He spun, scanning every corner, every shadow. "What the fuck… how?"
The garden that had been nothing but ashes yesterday was now paradise.
His eyes narrowed. His mind instantly traced back to her Luna. The way she had touched the roses. The way the air seemed to hum around her presence.
"No," he hissed, shaking his head. "Impossible. She can't… she's nothing but a cursed girl."
Yet the proof was right before him. Life where there had been only death. Light where he had only sown shadows.
For the first time in centuries, fear and curiosity twisted together in Damiano's chest.
Damiano stood among the blooming roses, his jaw tight, chest heaving. The air was sweet with life, but in his heart, only venom burned.
He thought of her- her storm-grey eyes, her trembling lips when Matteo touched her hand. The way the garden now pulsed with unnatural beauty after her presence.
His lips curled into a bitter, merciless smile.
"So this is your game, Luna?" His voice was low, dangerous. "You think you can charm Matteo… you think you can defy me?"
He crushed a rose in his hand, thorns biting into his flesh. Red dripped down his fingers, staining the petals like blood.
"No matter what power you hide… no matter what light you carry…" His green eyes gleamed, dark and cruel. "I will break you, piece by piece. Slowly. Until you beg for death."
The wind stirred the garden, petals scattering at his feet like fallen tears.
"And when I'm done," Damiano whispered to the night, "there will be nothing left of you."