“Don’t get used to it,” she said.
Holding the dress high, careful not to let it drag on the floor, Adara stepped into the bathing chamber and locked the door behind her. She padded over to the window and yanked the curtains closed. The room instantly grew dimmer as she quickly stripped out of her clothes and tossed them to the floor, hanging her dress on a hook next to the door. Adara couldn’t help but stare as she glimpsed herself in the mirror above the washbasin. She grimaced at the person staring back at her.
The skin underneath her eyes had been tinted darker, a result of the horrendous sleep she’d gotten last night because of her nightmares. She hated the power the Shadow Empire still had over her, even after she’d escaped. A glance down at her clean, uninjured ankle—where she’d felt the powerful teeth of adrevlicbite into her—told her that it was all in her head. She couldn’t decide if that made it better or worse.
The burns that marred her arms, at least, had healed overnight, leaving her skin smooth and pristine. She’d been prone to losing control of her powers soon after she had escaped the Shadow Empire. She’d awoken countless times to the world around her on fire, a blaze caused by her inability to tell her dreams apart from reality. She’d been lucky to have been trained well enough to put it out before more damage was done.
Running a hand through her hair, Adara sighed as something she could only place as discomfort settled in her stomach. She’d grown accustomed to the red staining her brown hair, a reminder of the Hel she’d been through. Now it was gone. She didn’t like it. It made her look weak, like her trauma had never happened. It made her look too much unlike herself.
Yet part of her smiled faintly at how normal she looked without it.
No longer was she a monster, bathed in the blood of her victims, which was exactly how she received that particularmarking. After that final battle, moments before she was thrown through a portal to Lykrios. After losing everyone she loved, Adara had been covered in the blood of her enemies and friends alike. She’d attempted to clean herself countless times—offered a variety of soaps and clean water courtesy of the healer who found her—scrubbed her hair until her scalp had been left bleeding and burning. But no matter how hard she tried, only her skin came clean. Streaks of crimson had stained her hair ever since, a permanent reminder from the gods that she’d failed them.
Adara shook her head. Perhaps, just for tonight, for the festival of Livisian, she could let the girl she once was see a glimpse of daylight. No one here knew her. She could be someone else for the night, not have to worry about keeping her wits about as the Phoenix. It could be like the celebration back home, like the simpler days she missed so dearly.
With that in mind, she smiled and stepped into her beautiful gown with skirts of starlight.
The moment Dominic stepped into their room, he almost dropped the tray of food he brought back for the two of them. Breath catching, he schooled his expression to indifference before Adara could notice he’d been staring at her in that blue dress, sitting at the edge of the bed, eyes locked on a book. Strands of brown hair framed the profile of her face, waves cascading down her back beneath the circlet of flowers she received from that little girl yesterday. Her bold lashes flutteredwith each blink above those gorgeous blue eyes that, despite having been dimmed by the elixir, seemed alight with something as they scanned the words of the book in her lap. The narrow slit in her skirts revealed her legs crossed beneath the fabric. The only thing out of place was her black boots sticking out from beneath her skirts, but he doubted anyone would be able to tell when she stood.
With the faint glow of the candles and the sunlight shining in through the window, her dress shimmered with an ethereal grace. The silver beading at the hem of the bodice glinted against Adara’s radiant skin. Perhaps it was the magic that flowed through her, but she felt like a beacon, glowing and bright, and something he couldn’t resist. A moth to the flame.
Dominic had always known Adara was beautiful, but seeing her like this was different. It was like his world had been turned upside down, and he was seeing her in an alternate universe. One where they weren’t always fighting for their lives. One where Adara was this princess whose beauty could outshine the brightest stars on the darkest nights, and he was nothing more than some orphaned boy pining for her to glance his way.
But he knew Adara was quite the opposite, and he couldn’t help but think about how perfect she’d look slaughtering her enemies in that damn dress. She could do anything and make it look good.
Clearing his throat, Dominic stepped into the room and kicked the door closed behind him. Adara gently closed the book, stood up, and placed it in her rucksack inside the chest. Her eyes finally met his, and he hated how his breath caught again at the sight of those eyes, gazing at him with something other than contempt. He wished she’d go back to fixing her harsh glare on him. It would make it easier to keep the heat from rising to his face, because all he could look at was her eyes, stark against the light blue satin of her gown. Irises like a sapphire gemstoneglittering under the sun. An ocean he would dive right into and gladly drown in. A symbol of her raging fires that burned so bright, drawing him in, completely disregarding the thought of being burned.
“You look . . . ” he started, stumbling over every word in his vocabulary to find a compliment that wouldn’t even begin to describe her beauty.
Adara peered up at him with raised brows.
“Stunning,” he said, unwilling to make himself resemble some lovesick fool. Then again, maybe Adara would enjoy him pining after her, enjoy it enough to fall for him.
She blushed and replied softly, “Thanks.”
The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he sat on the bed next to her and placed the tray of breakfast between them. It wasn’t much—some eggs, bacon, and fruit he’d swiped from the tavern downstairs before the morning rush could beat him to it.
“So,” Dominic started, taking a bite of the eggs. “Is there anything special they do on the last night of the festival?” He wasn’t used to it all. The decorations, the people, the gifts. Everything about holidays was foreign to him. Especially holidays surrounding the celebration of a god.
His family had been too poor to decorate or purchase gifts for one another. His father had always said these festivals were a waste of time and money. They were days that distracted you from reality and filled your head with nonsense. It was better to keep your feet on the ground and your head out of the clouds. As a kid, Dominic didn’t understand. He believed that those days were the ones that kept people going. The days that brought light after the storms.
But as he grew up, he acknowledged that his father had been right. They were a distraction from reality. Sure, they brought joy and fun, but all that would be ripped away the next day wheneverything returned to normal. It was better to skip through it like nothing ever happened.
Dominic’s family had also never worshipped the gods. But the way Adara’s eyes lit up when mentioning the Goddess of Life intrigued him. Whatever she felt for Elysian and this festival in her honor ran deep. He’d be a fool not to see the longing in her eyes. The longing for a home she couldn’t return to.
Swallowing her food before answering, Adara responded, “Usually, today is when everyone exchanges gifts and has a feast with their family. And at night, most people go out for a night in the town, hopping from tavern to tavern, drinking and dancing with friends, doing whatever makes them feel alive. But during the day, some people do things they’ve feared most of their lives. They go on epic adventures, seeking out thrills. Ones that are risky so they’ll appreciate life. It’s whatever people want to make of it. It is, after all, the festival of life. People celebrate life in many different ways.”
He wondered what Adara would usually be doing during the festival. They’d already had too many near-death experiences to count. Would she want to find another thrilling adventure? Or would she usually be the one having a nice feast with her family before going out and celebrating with her friends?
“And what do you celebrate it for?” Dominic asked, looking up from his plate of food.
She glanced down, chewed on her bottom lip in thought as her fingers danced over her blue and silver ring. Perhaps it was a family heirloom. “It’s hard to say when I’ve been surrounded by so much death my entire life,” she admitted.
He didn’t miss the way her hand absentmindedly trailed up to the thin chain around her neck that held the key tucked safely against her heart. Whoever it was, she had loved them dearly. But whoever it was wasn’t her soulmate. Did that make it easier or harder for her to get over it?
“I guess I celebrate that I’m still alive.” She shrugged, her eyes still downcast as she used her fork to push her food around her plate. “Still fighting for all those whose lives have been lost because of me. Still living so they didn’t die for nothing.” She let out a heavy sigh, brows knitting together. “It’s difficult to celebrate Livisian now when I’m only celebratingmylife. I celebrated it for the lives of the ones I love. Celebrate it now because even though their lives ended long before they should have, at least they had one to begin with. At least, I got to spend a part of mine with them.”
A single tear slid down her face, steam rising from her skin. Adara noticed and took a deep, steadying breath, letting it out slowly. Her emotions couldn’t have gotten too high because when Dominic lifted his hand to brush away her tear with his thumb, her skin was warm and soft, not scorching like the raging fire that flowed through her when she felt something extreme.
