It was a feeling she craved. The adrenaline that coursed through her when Dominic donned his mask and she didn’t know whether he would kiss her or kill her was such a delightful flood of energy inside of her.
She hated it.
His hand fell away, leaving her hollow as her head dropped.
As Dominic stood, the air rushed out of her lungs. Adara choked, gasping for breath that he would not allow her to have. She tried to yell, to curse, to scream at him for being such a coward. For leaving her. But all that came out were choked sobs as her vision blurred. Dominic strode into the distance withoutlooking back. Adara fought to keep her eyes open. Her chest ached to see him go, and she despised that it was more than just the pain of her lungs fighting for air.
Hands slick with blood, she managed to slip free of the vines binding her hands. But that was all she could do before the world went dark, and she collapsed onto the cold sand, vulnerable to the monsters of the Ruins. But none could be deadlier than the Thief of Hearts.
Chapter 35
Dominicdidn’tlookbackas he set off into the Ruins. Adara would be fine. He’d only cut off her air until she fell unconscious. That way, he’d have enough time to put some distance between them.
She was right. It indeed would be smarter to stay together, but Dominic could not afford that. Not when he didn’t know what sort of things from the past might be dredged up in this haunted desert.
The only sound was the sharp whine of the whetting stone against Dominic’s daggers as he sharpened them one by one.The onyx blade reflected no light, as if it ate away at such things, tossing it into a void. He rotated it, admiring the polished blade Adara had gifted him during Livisian, contemplating what her blood would look like running down its sharp obsidian edges.
A lot of his time had been spent pondering his recent epiphany that he had been in love with Adara Rhyes.Had been.His previous emotions for her changed everything and yet nothing at all. Adara, no doubt, was the reason he’d carved out his own heart. Now, it was time he did the same to her.
He wished he’d never rediscovered that part of his past, wished he was still oblivious to the fact that he had met Adara before. Could someone stop loving another? Or was it ever really love that he felt for her? Perhaps not. Maybe that was why she chose Cal over him. That constant reminder was the one thing keeping him from losing the war. Knowing that even if he was capable of love, she would never reciprocate it. That and he had to win. He had to take her key to extend his life before Andreilia’s curse killed him. Its magic was the only thing keeping him alive without a heart. Yet even that would be difficult—to know that if shedidmiraculously fall in love with him and give up her key, none of it would be real. She’d only fall in love with an illusion of him, crafted with lies. If she was going to love him, he wanted it to bereal.
Something nipped at his heels, jarring him out of his thoughts, yet when he turned, nothing was there. He hoped he wasn’t already losing his mind.
Rain drizzled lightly from the gray clouds above, chilling his skin all the way down to his bones, like ice piercing his insides. Screams erupted in the distance. Long, cracked sobs filled with agony as if whoever it was had been tortured for days and they’d screamed until their throat was raw. Vultures swarmed overhead, their caws an echo to the tormented shrieks, swooping low to feast on the rotting corpses.
Dominic ignored the cries and continued on. Where he was going, he barely had the slightest clue. Casting this place out of his memories was one of the first things he did when he left. Now, it was nothing but a barren desert, littered with crumbling buildings, fallen pillars, and collapsed cottages.
To others, the Ruins was a wasteland, haunted by ghosts and deadly creatures seeking revenge from the Wasted War. To Dominic, it was all that and a land full of memories he wished he could forget.
Truth be told, he knew the Ruins would not break Adara. He was more worried about what this place would do to him. Leaving her alone in the dark, tied to a tree, wasn’t ideal for either of their survival, but he could not let her see what he’d become when the Ruins started playing tricks on him.
He continued trudging through the thick sand, his clothes soaked with the rain pouring overhead. Lightning flashed, followed by thunder booming, jolting the silent night awake—if it was even nighttime, he couldn’t tell with the charcoal clouds blanketing the sky. Screams rang out again, louder this time. He tried to ignore them, tried not to think about what he’d do if one of those screams belonged to Adara. Were they the lost souls from the Wasted War calling out for help after they’d been condemned to the Ruins in the afterlife? Or were there others here in the desert with him, crying for help as whatever monsters that crawled this place tore them to pieces?
A shiver ran down his spine as the ghost of claws raked down his back, though nothing was there. Mice skittered through the sand, a group of them running ahead of him. Dominic had enough sense to quicken his steps and keep an eye out for anything out of order. Except it was nearly impossible to see through the darkness and rain. He summoned magic to his palm, an orb of yellow light flickering to life. Dominic cursed asit continued guttering—either another sign of his powers fading or some trick of the Ruins—but shone dimly in the dark.
Dominic!That scream had him halting in his steps, scanning his surroundings. Nothing was there. He shook his head and began again.
Dom!the voice called out, strained with panic.
“Adara?” he said into the darkness, pulse quickening at the sound of her distressed cries. Slowly, he turned in a circle, searching for where she could be.
Dominic, help!Her shouts grew louder and more urgent with each beckon to him, rising in horror.
Dom, please!His pulse raced. He took a step in the direction of her voice, apprehension churning like a hurricane in his gut. What if she’d been attacked? He’d left her there, alone, defenseless,unconscious.
Dominic halted, sand shifting beneath his feet at his abrupt stop. He shook his head, turned, and continued in the opposite direction. Adara was fine, he reassured himself. It was only the Ruins trying to lure him to his death. She would never call for his help, especially not after he left her.
Her voice incessantly followed him, calling out his name. Pressing his palms over his ears, he ignored it and kept walking. Shadows skittered through the desert, lurking in the corners of his vision, watching, following, caressing his skin. No wonder, people had gone insane in this wretched place. He could hardly tell what was real and what wasn’t. Doubt crept into his mind. What if that voicewasAdara? What if she needed him?
Dominic!This time, the voice was different. A higher pitch than Adara’s and much younger. His face scrunched in confusion as he held up a hand, trying to shield his eyes to see through the pouring rain.
Help!
Eyes widening, stomach churning, Dominic dropped his hand and called out, “Saige?”
No, it couldn’t be. His sister was dead. He watched her die two centuries ago.
Saige called his name again, over and over and over, until it rang in his head. The agony, the worry, the despair. Dominic could not stand the fear in her voice. He knew it was foolish, rash, and downright idiotic, but that didn’t stop him from taking off in a sprint toward his long-dead sister’s voice. Rain pelted him, but it did nothing to slow him down as he squinted through the torrent of water, desperately searching for her.
