Adara pried herself from Zephyr’s arms and stood to greet them all. “Yes, we got the relic,” she said, with a sharp glare pinned on Tyson. Her gaze returned to the others gathered around. “It was awful and terrifying and deadly.” Adara lowered herself into the sand, crossing her legs beneath her. Zephyr, Silas, and Niran followed her lead, settling onto the ground, ready for whatever perilously epic tale she was about to tell them.
“Ruins of the kingdoms were littered all over the desert,” she said, coughing and licking her dry lips.
Evreux sat with them, offering Adara a canteen of water.
She gladly drank from it before continuing. “There were monsters with nothing but mouths of razor-sharp teeth for heads.” She gestured to her shoulder, pulling her bloody tunic aside. “That’s how I got this.”
Niran reached into his rucksack and pulled out a journal. He scribbled on the pages as Adara spoke, asking for details to add to his drawings.
“There were lost souls, but not only from the Wasted War, as we thought. They were ghosts of the past, illusions of people we once knew.” Adara’s eyes flickered to him, soft and apologetic, as if she knew he’d seen his father without him telling her.
“What happened to your pack?” Tobias asked as he strode over to them. He joined their circle, along with Caleb and Asher, and offered some provisions of cured meat and nuts.
Adara picked up a stick and began drawing in the sand. “I was attacked!” she exclaimed with a flourish.
Zephyr and Silas startled, then eagerly leaned forward to see what she was doodling.
“By a massive sand serpent.”
Silas drew a knife from his belt and a block of wood from his bag, beginning to whittle. Dominic couldn’t help but grin as Adara told the tale of how she escaped the mighty beast in the underground ruins of the old kingdoms.
“You’re not going to go crazy on us, are you?” Ace’s voice drew his attention away from Adara.
Dominic ran a hand through his hair, grimacing at the grit of sand. “I hope not,” he replied, barely suppressing a grin. “I think we did the impossible. We made it out alive with our sanity intact.”
Ace crossed his arms, raising a brow in disbelief, his jaw set. “Good,” he said, but his austere tone suggested otherwise. “Surely the King of Keys wouldn’t forget his goals,” he spat, turning on his heel and heading for the caravan.
Dominic shook his head. He didn’t have the energy to deal with Ace right now.
Vesper strode up to Dominic and clasped his forearm in a firm shake. “Glad to have you back,” he said, pale cheeks red and peeling from the scorching sun. His usually white hair was stained blond with sand.
Dominic dipped his chin in an appreciative nod. “Good to be back.”
“Was it really like Adara’s saying?” Sawyer asked.
Dominic glanced over to where Adara still sat, animatedly recalling their journey and pointing to Niran’s drawings and Silas’s woodwork, correcting their details.
Silas held up the beginnings of a little wooden snake. “Well, it won’t be as big as you described . . . ”
Dominic huffed. “All that and a lot worse.”
“You reek,” Desmond said, tossing Dominic a bar of soap.
“Yeah, how about you two clean up so we can all go home?” Vesper suggested.
Adara was suddenly by his side, stealing the soap from his hands. “That sounds like an amazing idea.”
Adara stripped down to her underlayers and let out a dramatic sigh of relief, lying back in the crystal water, rinsing away the blood and sand sticking to her. Dominic followed without a word, throwing his filthy, blood-and-sand stained tunic and pants onto the ground. The others had taken the horses and caravan to the outskirts of the oasis to give the two of them some much needed peace and quiet.
Adara dipped her head under the water, then reemerged, slicking her hair back. Her skin shimmered beneath the drops of water sliding down her face, the light catching just right through the canopy above, and Dominic smiled to himself to finally see her face without all the grime staining it.
She lathered the bar of soap in her hands before tossing it to him, scrubbing the suds all along her arms and beneath what little remaining clothing she had on. “Would you mind?” she asked, looking at him over her shoulder as she partially peeled the blood-stained bandage away, unable to reach the rest of her wound.
Dominic splashed water on his face, rubbing away the sand and sweat, grateful for the sticky feeling to be gone. Then he waded over to her. “If you wanted an excuse for me to touch you, all you had to do was say so,” he teased, gently tearing away the rest of the bandage.
“Why would I ever want that?” she said dismissively, picking at the dried blood beneath her fingernails.
Dominic laughed and gently massaged soap suds around her wound, diligently removing all the grime so it wouldn’t get infected. “It’s inspiring how much strength you have to restrain yourself from your desire for me.”
