For a second, Alessio didn’t breathe.

Couldn’t.

Two Noas.

Same face. Same scars. Same lazy tilt of the mouth like they were seconds away from saying something he’d regret hearing.

The one in his arms was still and faintly glowing. The one in the doorway was standing, eyes open, shoulders squared, gaze locked right on him.

“What” The word came out raw. Alessio stopped himself before finishing it. He wasn’t about to give either of them the satisfaction of hearing the question.

The ...