“What? No!” Adara purposely slowed their pace so the others wouldn’t hear.
“It was nothing.”
“If it was nothing, you wouldn’t mind telling us,” Asher said.
Caleb nodded in agreement.
Adara sighed, finally giving in. “Okay, fine. The only thing that happened between us is that we had to share a bed, and I may have woken up with his arms around me.”
Before she even finished her sentence, Caleb was already gushing with a toothy grin, squealing like a little girl.
Desmond and Tyson’s heads whirled from up ahead and Sawyer peeked his head out between the canvas flaps of the caravan at the noise. Thankfully, Asher clamped a hand over Caleb’s mouth to shut him up. Caleb’s blue eyes crinkled with triumph and Asher jerked his hand away.
“Gross!” Asher yelled, wiping his hand on his pants.
“Ew, your hand tastes like sand!” Caleb replied, spitting on the ground. He pulled his scarf up to cover his mouth and nose.
Adara laughed, the sound muffled by the fabric over her face, and shook her head at them. “I’m glad you find my love life so amusing when it will inevitably lead to one of us dying,” she said, gesturing to Dominic’s back as he rode at the head of their group, Ace by his side, speaking in low tones.
Caleb’s face instantly fell, a frown creasing his brow.
“Don’t remind us,” Asher said sullenly.
They all knew the fate of imminent death that loomed over them. The sadness in Asher’s eyes made Adara believe that he and Caleb truly would grieve if she ended up on the losing side of this war, yet something nagged in the back of her mind, telling her it was all a lie to make her let down her guard. They would never choose her life over Dominic’s. Sure, they might be sad to see her go, but if they could protect Dominic, she knew they wouldn’t hesitate to do so. Which made her wonder . . . how much of their friendship was real? Were they extending kindness to her to get her closer to them, and eventually Dominic?
She didn’t want to think about that. Didn’t know what she’d do if the friendships she had made were another lie.
Adara held a hand over her heart. “How touching to know you like to forget about our gruesome deaths waiting at the end of all this.”
Caleb shoved a hand through his blond hair, slicking the damp strands back under the headwrap. “I try not to think about that!” he said defensively, hands held palm up before him.
“If it makes you feel any better, I threw a dagger at him yesterday, so I doubt either one of us will be falling in love anytime soon,” Adara said with a shrug. Perhaps this whole game of love was a worthless waste of time.
She had started to enjoy Dominic’s presence at times, but she could never love him. She didn’t even consider him a friend, not like the Andreilians. He was something else. She hadn’t yet determined what he was to her.A tool. A gateway to power. Something to be used and tossed aside when you no longer need him,was what she should have thought.
Someone who could be more.
“Hate to break it to you, Adara, but trying to kill someone isnothow you make them fall in love with you,” Asher said with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
She held her hands up and smiled. “I know. I know. I’m terrible at this.”
Chapter 33
Agirlstoodbeforehim.Her long brown hair blew wildly in the harsh winds, coated in red. Blood, Dominic noted as he scanned the carnage around them. Mutilated bodies lay in pools of scarlet all around him, the grass below tainted and unseen. A wave of nausea sluiced through him, causing him to hunch over, bracing his hands on his knees. The putrid smell of death had him gagging, forcing himself to take labored breaths to contain the bile rising in his throat. Panic gripped him by the neck, squeezing.
He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t stand.
Warm liquid soaked his clothes as Dominic hit the ground, gasping for breath. Undiluted horror overwhelmed him. He had no clue how he got to this place, where this place even was. With blood-slicked hands, he struggled to push himself to his feet, staggering as he rose. His head swiveled back and forth, searching for a way out of this massacre.
Shadows surrounded him, darkness seeping into the corpse nearest to him. The darkness surged. Wisps of the body’s black hair swirled in the wind. The boy’s pale skin was consumed by smoke. His dark, lifeless eyes stared up at Dominic, pleading for help.
“Run!” someone yelled. The voice was a rough rasp, like they hadn’t spoken in days. Or they’d screamed so violently that their vocal cords were ripped to shreds.
Dominic turned toward the voice, suddenly remembering the girl who’d been standing before him.
She kneeled on the ground, blood covering every inch of her. Something told him most of it wasn’t hers. Sprawled on the grass before her was another body. It belonged to a young girl with bright orange hair splayed around her head. Her chest had been shredded open, flesh and bone pouring out of her skin.
“Go,” the brown-haired girl sobbed, her voice a whisper. A plea as she held the orange-haired girl’s hand.
