“You did your best to protect us all, even Silas knew that.”
Chapter 54
ThedoorcreakedasAdara carefully pushed it open, worried about what she might find within. It had been days since she’d spoken to anyone. Her sorrow had kept her locked in that storage room where she’d slept when they sailed to Enfider, unable to stand being around the Andreilians, knowing she was the reason one of them was missing. The bruises and cuts from Tyson’s beating and the lykren attack were healing quickly. Her body was no longer throbbing or discolored with pain, but nothing could mend the ache within.
Dominic, apparently, hadn’t left the captain’s quarters either. Ace told her that, with all the rest and disuse of his magic, his powers seemed to be working faster to mend his remaining injuries from the Ruins and the slice he’d taken across his abdomen from a pirate. She didn’t know if she could bring herself to speak to Dominic, but worry was eating away at her. She needed to see him. For what reason, she didn’t know. To thank him for saving her life after she’d almost drowned? To apologize for not saving Silas? To be sure he was healed? To explain why she’d kept the fact that she had a dragon scale a secret all this time?
Lantern light flickered through the crack in the door as Adara peeked in. Dominic sat hunched over his desk, arms crossed over the tabletop, chin resting on his arms. Dark circles shadowed below his eyes and his hair was a mess, as if he’d been running his hands through the brown strands in distress. He didn’t bother to glance up at her as she stepped inside his room and closed the door behind her. He looked so exhausted, all the fight drained out of him, like the ocean would drag him under at any moment. It made something inside her crumble to see him this way, so lifeless and hollow.
“Thank you,” Dominic’s quiet words seemed loud in the glum silence.
Adara released a sigh, thankful he’d spoken first. “For what?”
He lifted the shining blue dragon scale between two fingers. “This . . . and saving our lives.”
“I should be thanking you for saving mine,” she whispered. Gods, the way he’d looked at her when she finally came to after he’d pulled her from the ocean . . . She so desperately wanted to believe that was the look of love, but she knew it was only relief that she was still alive, that her key still held power. That was the only reason anyone ever cared for her—to use what power lay within her.
His eyes, so dull, finally lifted to meet hers. “Silas wanted me to give you this.”
At the sound of his name, Adara’s breath clogged in her throat. Those words snaked their way into her chest, squeezing her heart.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little wooden dragon. Adara’s steps faltered at the sight, eyes widening.
As if reading her thoughts, Dominic said, “He didn’t know what you were.”
Adara picked up the carving with shaking hands. The dragon’s chin was lifted, head held high in triumph, with its chest puffed out. It stood on four legs, wings folded back against its body, tail curled up behind it. The intricate details of its scales, teeth, and eyes were astounding. He must have been working on it for a while.
“He said he chose a dragon because of your cloak.”
Indeed, Adara carried that royal blue cloak like a piece of armor. In fact, it was wrapped around her shoulders in that moment. She pulled it tighter, like it would protect her heart from breaking all over again.
“Silas said he always knew you were meant for something greater.”
Tears stung her eyes, and Adara bit her quivering lip. She didn’t even get to say goodbye.
“I should have grabbed him first,” she said quietly, overturning the dragon in her hands to inspect the impeccable details. “I should have . . . ” She trailed off, unable to speak about the matter anymore. She did not want to cry. Tears would not fix anything, and neither would excuses or regrets.
“You knew,” she said, taking her mind away from Silas. “You knew it was a lykren just by the sound of it.” The image of Dominic—the undefeatable King of Keys, the infamous Thief ofHearts—frozen with terror, replayed in her mind. “You’ve seen a lykren before?”
Dominic let out a cracked, sorrowful laugh and shook his head. “Your precious Captain Lunard isn’t the only one who survived a lykren attack. He was just the one to return to the mainland to tell the tale.”
Adara recalled the way Damon had always spat Dominic’s name with such bitter loathing, all the times he’d warned her about the infamous Dominic Nite and his ruthless schemes. Dominic’s tone had the same anger, but there was something akin to loss buried beneath that stone mask he wore.
“Damon never did tell me what happened between the two of you.”
Dominic sighed, like he was trying to expel all the grief and pain held inside. “Damon and I were friends once. Us and another, Valen. They’re the reason I’m here.”
Adara listened intently, crossing the room to sit at the edge of his bed.
Dominic absentmindedly tossed the dragon scale back and forth between his hands, leaning back in his chair. “I met them in Lykrios, told them the legend of the island that granted eternal youth. None of us had anything left to lose but each other, so we set sail on a small ship, determined to make the impossible journey. And we did.” Dominic’s eyes avoided her. “We could see the island on the horizon. We almost made it.” A pause. His hands slightly trembled, but he tossed the scale on his desk and curled his fingers into fists, resting them in his lap. “Then a lykren attacked.” A tremor ran through him.
Adrenaline spiked in Adara at the memory of the monstrous beast, of its neck snapping between her fangs, its acidic blood sliding down her throat.
“Took a chunk out of our ship with those sword-like teeth. The whole thing splintered beneath our feet, sinking quickly. Its tailmanaged to strike Valen . . . just like Ace.” Dominic closed his eyes as if it would shut out the memory. “Miraculously, we made it to shore. And it’s like Andreilia’s water was calling to me.” His brows furrowed. “I found it quite easily and filled a canteen . . . ” He trailed off, words sticking in his throat.
Adara leaned forward, fingers curling around his, halting him from incessantly bouncing his knee. She squeezed gently, thumb stroking the back of his hand.
Voice wavering, Dominic continued carefully. “Greed got the best of me. I took one second to drink the water for myself. It’s what I had been searching for, for so long. It’s what Saige had dreamed of. I couldn’t help myself.” Dominic shook his head. “I didn’t know it would be the cause of his demise. Being the first to drink, it’s like my life flashed before my eyes. All the pain and misery. I went unconscious and woke up with magic coursing through my veins.
