Chapter LIV. Domenic
LIV
DOMENIC
WINTER
Domenic nearly retched at the sight of her: her countless wounds, her limbs pinned down in the tree’s rigid embrace, her eyes wide with terror as they met his own.
He had never felt less like a hero.
Yet as Domenic tried to steady his trembling hand, an idea bloomed in his chest. He couldn’t tell if it was real or only a stupid, desperate want.
You know better than to trust yourself, he scolded.
But it was too late. The idea took root before he could prune it, and suddenly it was sprouting, blossoming, the very thing that had always cursed him, that he inflicted on everyone around him.
Hope.
From the start, their love had been wrong, yet it had never once felt that way. And even if their story hadn’t followed the original route destiny intended, Domenic could not fathom any path that could’ve brought him here, to the very act he was meant for, had Ellery not walked beside him on it.
So what power did fate truly hold if any path could diverge from it at all?
And thus, as their perfect tragedy came to its awful end, Domenic Barrow hesitated.