“The Shadow Empire would cut them open, break their bones, inject them with poison, all to see how they reacted, how quickly they’d heal and discover a way to heal them faster. They were tortured and experimented on to make them into some kind of invincible soldiers. Their will was broken down to nothing, making it easier for them to succumb to the emperor’s brainwashing.”
Adara took a moment to herself, turning away from him. Her hands trembled, and she curled her fingers into tight fists. She drew in a long, wavering breath and bit her quivering lip as she returned her gaze to his wounds. Dominic rested a reassuring hand on her thigh—muscles aching in protest at the movement—as she kneeled over him, still working on his injuries. He prayed that maybe this was just the story of someone she knew, that all her scars were not the product of this gruesome, twisted story. But he saw the way she relived every word she said.
“You don’t have to tell me the rest if you don’t want to,” he reassured her. His thumb lazily rubbed circles over her leg, the fabric still damp with his own blood. “It doesn’t hurt so badly anymore,” he lied.
Adara merely shook her head and went on. “After being held by Zenura for years, the heirs finally came up with a plan to escape. They’d been captive long enough to figure out the ways of the empire, the paths to exits. They’d built their strength by sharing their rations. Little did they know, all of them had already succumbed to the reign of darkness. They were under the empire’s control without even knowing.” Adara finished another suture.
His hand fell away from her thigh as she stood to gather more bandages and he suddenly felt cold.
“They escaped successfully . . . Or so they thought. It had all been a trick. They’d beenallowedto escape. Hope settled back into them after years of absence.
“And when they thought they were in the clear, Zenura struck. The heirs tried to fight back, but they were taken control of, a mental hold they couldn’t fight. Except for the princess. She’d been strong enough to resist the control, blood boiling in her skin, igniting the shadows. Her magic destroyed it. The princess fought back and was able to help some of the others recognize that their thoughts weren’t their own . . . only to watch them die anyway.
“Only three of them remained: the princess, her lover, and her best friend.” Something dark shifted in Adara’s eyes. “Her lover turned on her, attempting to kill her with every last bit of strength he had. She didn’t recognize the feral rage in his eyes, but she knew he was still in there. She couldn't fight him, and would die before she hurt him.” Her face had gone pallid, her tone indifferent, her eyes glazed over as she returned with more bandages to clean his wound.
Although her features portrayed no sign of emotion, heat emanated from her skin in simmering waves.
“As he attacked, she only defended.”
Dominic hissed as Adara pressed a damp cloth to his back, wiping away the dried blood. She lifted her gaze to meet his, and he set his jaw in a determined nod, indicating for her to continue.
“The princess ended up in the dirt, her lover hovering over her, with a knife in his hand and a murderous expression on his face. ‘It’s all your fault!’ he screamed, pushing the dagger closer to her chest. Her hands shoved against his, her pleas of mercy filling the air, desperately trying to bring back the boy she fell in love with.
“And she did. As the haze from his eyes cleared and the light began to show through again, she found him able to resist the Shadow Empire’s power. The princess could see it then—the three of them escaping, returning to their kingdoms after years of being thought dead, returning to fulfill the prophecy and savealltheir kingdoms—”
The flat, hollow tone of her voice was a stark contrast to the hateful, depraved story she told. Exhausted, as if all the anger toward the empire had been leached out of her, leaving nothing but this lifeless shell, all emotions lost to the ones she lost along the way, no feelings left to be spared.
“But those wishes died along with the light in her lover’s eyes because her best friend had already fired an arrow into his heart to protect her.” Adara blinked, as if in a daze, reliving the moment and trying to remember where she truly was. “A scream echoed through the night. Her scream. Not even comprehending who it was she had been begging moments before to lower the bow, who killed her lover, the princess grabbed the knife from her lover’s lifeless hands and whirled around, hurling the blade through the air. It sank deeply into its target”—a shudderedbreath—“and only then did she realize she’d killed her best friend.”
A sharp pain speared through Dominic’s chest that had him tensing under her gentle hands. She shot him a look which he dismissed with a nod, for the pain was there and gone, replaced by a raging storm in his mind. He did his best to ignore it, deemed it the result of his magic ebbing away.
“Part of her felt relieved. Her lover’s killer was dead, her revenge already taken. But her friend had only been trying to protect her.” Adara took a deep, shuddering breath. “She’d never forgive herself for that day. Leading them to a supposed escape, only to end up in a slaughter. She wanted to end it all right there, to die with her friends. Instead, she was thrown through a portal, never to see her beloved home again, constantly questioning if it is too late to fulfill the prophecy,” she finished, eyes distant and gleaming like stars begging to be seen through a cloudy night. A constellation of tears lay scattered upon her rosy cheeks.
Once she was finished mending his wounds, Dominic slowly pulled himself to sit upright, groaning as pain seared through him. He reached out to cup her cheek. His muscles screamed in agony, but he didn’t care. He paused before he touched her, careful not to cause her any more pain. She gave his hand a sideways glance, then leaned her head into his palm. His thumb softly stroked her cheek, wiping away her tears.
“Thank you,” he murmured. For saving his life. For healing his wounds. For telling a story to distract him.
A long silence settled over them as Adara grabbed another damp cloth and began to wipe away the dried blood on his cheeks and temples. Her eyes were focused on the narrow, red rivers dried across his face while his were focused on the pools of magnificent flame that were her irises. Striking and familiar, burning with such regret and pain and sorrow that Dominic felt mirrored his soul. A strand of brown hair fell in front ofthose blazing eyes, denying him of their beauty so much that he reached out a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear.
“What was her name?” He found himself asking softly.
“What?” Adara responded incredulously, going still under his gaze.
“The princess,” he replied. The princess whose pain Adara carried with all her might, so much more than simple empathy for a character in a story. His eyes searched hers. “What was her name?”
He had to know, to be sure the story was true. He prayed that it wasn’t. But it aligned too well. The distant home, the years of torment, her magic that lit the way out of the dark. The lover who tried to kill her. The friend who tried to protect her and ended up with a knife in him.
Adara sighed, finally meeting his eyes while she applied an ointment to a cut on his forehead. “Her name,” she paused, drawing in a deep, empowering breath, “is Adara Rhyes.”
He squeezed her hand. There was nothing he could do to change the past, but he could promise it would not happen again. “You will not fight alone,” he breathed. It wasn’t much consolation, but it was all he could offer.
She stared at him, eyes vacant, and Dominic wondered if she could see right through him. Silence stretched between them. Not even the snarls of monsters lurking outside penetrated the cottage. Shadows flickered in the dim candlelight.
Adara eyed them wearily. “Neither will you,” she responded. “Till death and beyond.”
Adara watched the shadows moving beyond the open door, with a dagger in her hand, as Dominic lay on the sofa, dragged into a deep sleep from exhaustion. Flames danced over the candle wax sitting next to her on the rug. She leaned back against the couch, Dominic’s breaths ruffling her hair.
She kept an eye out for any danger until she no longer could. Until the shadows drifted in, but not the ones that made her unsettled. They were the ones that made it feel like she and Dominic were the only two people in the world.
