She frowned, unresponsive as she began gathering their dwindling supplies scattered around the decrepit house and shoving them into Dominic’s rucksack. She was avoiding him, like she couldn’t meet his eyes after telling him her life story. Was she afraid of his judgment? That he’d never view her the same? Think she was something broken in need of replacement?
Or was it because she saved his life, and therefore feared for his death? Could she not look at him for the same reason he couldn’t help but look at her? Because deep down, they both knew that this war would only end in bloodshed and heartbreak because there was something other than hatred simmering between them.
“Why’d you do it?” he inquired softly.
“Hmm?” Adara hummed in response, not bothering to even turn her head in his direction as she tossed some cured meat at him. Their provisions were dwindling, especially with her pack lost in the desert. They needed to make it back to the oasis before sunset, or they’d run out of supplies and the Andreilians would leave them.
“Save me?” he clarified, brows furrowed. His voice echoed across the walls, as if even the Ruins was savoring the sound of Dominic Nite admitting he needed help. “Why’d you come back for me? After I left you, why didn’t you just let me die?”
Adara turned toward him. The austerity in her gaze did nothing to help the lump forming in his throat as he continued to tear off small pieces of meat, eating slowly.
She padded to his side and cautiously sat on the edge of the bed. “I didn’t do it just for you. For one thing, the Andreilians need you. Not only because you’re their leader and you protect them, but also because no one knows for sure what happens if you die.”
She was right. His life was tied to the island, their entwined magic—and the healing abilities he stole from a Med’s key—was what kept his blood flowing without a heart. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t die. There were still plenty of ways to kill him, bleeding out being the possibility he faced last night. Andreilia’s curse was linked to his life and magic, slowly sucking it away from him, weakening him, killing him. But that wouldn’t harm the island because its magic was returning to the land. However,if Dominic died before the island reclaimed its magic, died with it still inside him, he wasn’t sure what would happen to his home.
None of that mattered because he’d take Adara’s key, drain her life, transfer it to him and all would be well with a new life essence and Andreilia’s magic returned to him.
“Second, I—we—made a promise to keep each other safe. I don’t go back on my word, Dom,” she explained. Despite the stern, determined tone she spoke with, every time she called him that, her words were filled with such tender sweetness, making everything in him threaten to completely unravel at the sound of his name on her lips.
“Either way, thank you,” he said, gesturing to his bandaged wounds.
Adara rolled her eyes and stood. “We’re even now. You won’t be thanking me when I take your key and kill you.”
He hated the way she did that. Talked so passionately and full of emotion, showed her most vulnerable parts to him, then slipped right back beneath that mask like nothing happened. It seemed he had finally met his match in this twisted game of love.
He wanted to hate her. He wanted to take her key and kill her and be done with her for the rest of his life.
He also wanted her to sit back next to him, take his hand, mend his wounds, and tell him stories until the end of time. He wanted her to love him as he had once loved her. Then destroy it all as she had.
Dominic rose to his feet, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger. He laughed softly and responded, “Don’t get too cocky, love. I could easily do the same for you.”
“Is that so?” she replied, tone scornful yet taunting. She stooped to retrieve his travel pack. “Let’s get the ashes and leave . . . before the others move on without us.”
Dominic stepped forward and grabbed his rucksack from her, slinging it over his shoulder. He winced, pain shooting through his back as he adjusted the pack and followed Adara out the front door. Blinding light struck him the moment they set foot outside, his hand shooting up to shield his eyes from the sun reflecting off the gleaming sand. His skin burned beneath the sun’s scorching rays, sweat immediately forming on his brow.
Adara stopped a few paces away from the house, then turned to ask, “So where are these ashes we’re looking for?”
Dominic gestured over his shoulder. “Burn the house, and we’ll have them.”
She raised a brow. “That’s it?”
“I’m guessing one of the reasons no one has ever forged the Realm Fracturer before is because they get this part of the riddle wrong. The Ruins”—he gestured to the barren desert around them—“is the most obvious place to search. Except people die or go insane and forget what they’re looking for.”
Adara stared blankly at him, her face a picture of bland annoyance, silently telling him to get to the point.
“But what people don’t think about is how they want nothing more than to reverse the clock and fix things when their own life’s in ruins.”
Adara cut in, “You said the ashes of the Ruins were a sacrifice? Not a sacrifice of old kingdoms or destroyed land, but of something personal?”
“Precisely,” he replied. “The remains of something that ruined someone’s life. And typically, nothing has the power to ruin you unless it is something you love.”
“So the people whodounderstand the riddle can never go through with it. They don’t want to sacrifice what they love,” Adara finished. Brows furrowing, her gaze flickered between him and the house.
“Go on,” he urged. “I’m sacrificing my home for us, the remains of my sister, and all objects I used to hold dear to me.” It was like peeling open a scab, baring his bloody wounds to her and praying she wouldn’t throw salt in them.
Adara showed no sign of shock, meaning she’d already pieced together that much of his past. He would be a fool to think she wasn’t clever enough to figure it out. He only hoped she never made the connection between them, for he’d have no shot at winning her heart if she remembered him.
Blue sparks crackled along her forearm, between her fingertips. The embers popped and sizzled, growing bigger and brighter. Then she unleashed them, sapphire flames shooting out toward the house.
