A shadow creature had killed him while he was out on patrol, robbing me of the closest thing I’d had to a father figure. But I’d forced Mavlyn to be my training partner, refusing to let the things he’d taught me go to waste, and had continued to sharpen my skills over the years.
If I was certain about anything in life, it was that I was meant to fight. Joining the military was the best way to put my skills to use—not studying to be a healer like my mother wanted, and not going to university where I would be shunned because of my stunted magic.
Dune snorted. “You’re a water fae who can’t even summon a rainstorm,” he said, “and somehow don’t have a drop of earth magic in you even though your mother is a talented healer. What use is the military going to have for you?”
“You don’t have to have strong magic to join the military,” I argued. “Only the willingness and ability to fight.”
Dune shrugged. “Maybe, but you do have to be a warrior, and I don’t think you have it in you.”
A lump formed in my throat at Dune’s callous attitude. “Why are you being like this?” I choked out. “I thought you’d be happy that I was joining too. I wanted to follow you, so that we could be together.”
“Be together?” Dune gave me a look of disbelief. “Adara…you and I can’t be together. You know that.”
The earth seemed to tilt from beneath me, and I thanked the Radiants that I was laying down. “But we are,” I insisted, though the words sounded hollow even to my ears. I clutched at the pendant nestled against my chest—a strange blue-white stone set into a golden circlet. It was an heirloom from my late father, a reminder of my heritage, and a protection amulet that I often reached for when I was upset or stressed. “We’ve been fighting this attraction to each other for so long because we’re not “supposed” to be together, but here we are. Don’t you think that’s a sign that we’re meant to be?”
Dune laughed. “The only thing it’s a sign of is that we want to fuck,” he said. “That doesn’t mean we’re written in the stars, or that I want to marry you, Adara.”
Hot shame flooded me, and I leapt to my feet, scattering the contents of the picnic basket everywhere. Dune cursed as the bread, meats and cheeses spilled across the forest floor, but for once I didn’t care what he thought. I spun on my heel and tried to run as my heart shattered in my chest, not wanting him to see the tears flowing freely down my cheeks.
He didn’t deserve my tears, not after this.
“Oh, come on, Adara!” Dune grabbed my wrist, trying to pull me back to him. “I’m just trying to give you a dose of reality—”
I spun into Dune, twisting my hand palm up and pulling my arm in. His grip on my wrist broke instantly, and I kept spinning, snapping my leg into a side kick. My booted foot slammed into his middle, and he bent double, wheezing.
How’s that for a dose of reality,part of me wanted to shoot back at him, but my desire to get away was stronger. I left him in the clearing, trying to catch his breath, humiliation eating away at the hole in my chest as I ran.
Mavlyn had been right. Dune had just been playing with me, treating my heart and my body like a prize to be won, then discarded. But she was wrong about one thing—I was leaving him in the dust, not the other way around. And I would never, ever make this mistake again.
3
Adara
“Oh good, you’re home,” Mother said as I walked into the apothecary. She was sitting at the counter, shredding gillyroot into a bowl, her head bent forward in concentration. “Will you help me finish shredding these? Mr. Fern is picking up a batch of diver’s potion tomorrow, and it needs to brew overnight.”
“Of course.” I approached the counter, hoping that my eyes weren’t too red from crying. I’d taken the long way home, trying to give myself enough time to calm down so I didn’t enter the house looking like a total mess. I grabbed one of the purplish-blue roots, then took a knife from the counter and scraped it vertically along the root, creating thin slices I would chop up into tinier pieces later. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d stood at this counter, helping mother chop and measure ingredients for potions.
“How was your day?” Mother glanced up at me. Even dressed simply in a long, yellow gown and apron, with her moss-green hair plaited into a crown to keep it out of the way, she was a vision. Wide, emerald eyes with thick lashes, high cheekbones, and a full mouth that smiled often and loved to make others laugh. There was an energy about her that was beyond her looks, a sort of magnetism that drew others to her. Many of the single males in the village had tried to court her, but she’d refused all of their offers. She was dedicated to her craft, she told them, and she had no need for a male when her heart was already filled with the most important thing in her life.
Me.
“It was fine,” I said, hoping that my voice didn’t sound too rough. But Mother’s eyes narrowed, and she took a closer look at my face.
“Your cheeks are blotchy, and you sound like you have a cold,” she said. “Have you been crying?”
“I—” Tears welled in my eyes. “It’s Dune. We…we’re not together anymore.”
“Oh, sweetling.” Mother put her knife and root down, and came around the counter to hug me. I sucked in a shuddering breath as she pulled me in close, enveloping me in the scent of honeysuckles and earth-warmed soil. “I’m so sorry. What happened?”
She led me out of the apothecary, and into the main part of the house. Our home wasn’t very big—a simple, open space with two beds, a sitting area by the wood stove, and a tub in the corner with a privacy screen that we used for bathing. But it was all we needed, and I had many happy memories here.
We sat down in the two chairs by the stove, and I told Mother what happened in between sips of Tranquil Tea. The calming brew took the edge off my pain, allowing me to take my first full breath since leaving Dune in the woods.
“That oaf,” Mother fumed when I’d finished. Her emerald eyes glittered with righteous anger. “I suspected he wasn’t interested in pursuing anything serious with you, but he didn’t have to be such an ass about it. I ought to slip some wyrmroot in his porridge tomorrow.”
A wet laugh burst from my lips. “That would definitely ruin the tryouts for him,” I said. Wyrmroot was a cure for constipation, but if you didn’t have a blockage, it gave you terrible diarrhea.
“Oh, well we can’t have that.” Mother leaned over to kiss the top of my head, then smoothed a hand over my lavender-blue hair. “As much as you and I would enjoy that kind of petty revenge, I’d much rather see that boy make the tryouts and leave. It’s for the best that you two part ways, Adara. You need to focus on your herbalism studies, not moon after males who aren’t even worthy of you.”
