Chapter 10
Adara watched with caution as Dominic lowered himself to the ground, sitting next to her bedroll. He leaned back against one of the wooden storage crates. “What happened to your family?” he asked softly.
“What happened to yours?” she shot back, unwilling to relive her nightmares.
Dominic’s lips twitched. He drew in a long breath. “My mother died from an illness. And my sister . . . ” He trailed off, lips parting and closing, unsure what to say.
She couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. The pain in his eyes and quiver in his lips at the mention of his sister was nothing more than a flash of uncertainty, but it didn’t go unnoticed.
Albeit, it instantly morphed to rage when he spoke again, diverting from the topic of his sister.
“My father,” he paused. His teeth sank into his bottom lip, fists clenched tightly resting atop his bent knees.
A wave of energy rolled off him, icy and empty like a harsh winter that sucked the life out of everything it touched.
“I killed him.” Fingers clenching around his knees, Dominic kept his eyes on his hands.
Adara sensed he didn’t want to lift his head in case he’d reveal anything to her through the emotions on his lowered face.
Adara chewed on her bottom lip, not sure how to follow that. Unlike him, she had a loving family, one that cherished her. That was, until the day she was taken from them. Since that day, she had never known what became of them.
She constantly asked herself: had her family even searched for her?
Did they ever try to infiltrate the Shadow Empire to save her?
Or did they believe that it was out of their hands and the prophecy would be fulfilled no matter how hard the emperor tried to stop it?
Maybe they left her to rot in the Shadow Empire’s dungeons because they believed she would fulfill the wrong end of the prophecy.
Shall she rise or fall? A savior or destroyer of all. The words pounded against her skull, her heart mirroring them like a war drum. What if her exile to another continent had already caused the five kingdoms to be destroyed?
Some days, Adara would sob. She’d let herself weep for the little girl her family lost and never reunited with.
Tears would fall at the memories she replayed in her mind, reminding her of what her life could have been.
Some days, she would forget. She found that it was easier when she didn’t think of them at all.
When she pretended that she was nobody and nothing, without family or friends, a vagabond wandering through life all alone.
It was better when she only had herself to look out for.
It was simpler when she didn’t let herself be reminded of all she’d lost.
But most days, she would rage. Throw things at walls, satisfied by the way they shattered and debris fell to the floor, because watching things break kept her mind off how broken she was.
Fire flooded her veins, begging to be let out and raze the entire world until nothing remained but flames and ash.
It was so much easier to give into the fury.
It was so much easier to hurt and destroy and burn.
No one ever came to mend her. And she didn’t have the strength—the will—to fix herself. All that remained was vengeance.
Finally, she opened her mouth to speak, voice barely more than a croak.
“My family,” she started, then cleared her throat at the rasp of her voice.
“I don’t know what became of my family,” she answered truthfully.
“I haven’t seen them since I was nine. They are lost along with my home, and I’m not sure there’s a way back.
My mother, my father, my twin brother—they may be dead, for all I know,” she murmured, hoping her voice was low enough that Dominic didn’t notice the waver in her tone.
Blemythia was wiped off the map along with everyone in it for reasons she was still unsure of.
She had no clue if that meant they’d all perished.
“That’s why you are hoping to forge the Realm Fracturer,” Dominic thought aloud. It wasn’t a question.
And if Adara were selfish, she would loathe the way he saw right through her. But the Realm Fracturer was about more than getting back to her family, it was about saving her people. It was about destroying the Shadow Empire once and for all.
“Something like that,” she replied.
“Why haven’t you seen them in so long?” Dominic asked.
Now she regretted mentioning her age when she lost her family.
“I am not willing to dive into that dark memory with you.”
“Fine,” Dominic said, trying for something else. “Will you tell me about that key you keep around your neck?”
Adara pressed a hand over her chest where the key rested on a gold chain, tracing the outline of the metal through the fabric of her tunic.
Her eyes flickered down at the necklace beneath her shirt, then back up to him. “That depends. Will you tell me about all the keys you’ve stolen?”
Dominic shrugged. “What is there to tell?”
“Then no,” she finally answered. The wound in her chest from Callan’s death had not fully healed, and she didn’t want Dominic ripping off any bandages she’d been precariously placing over it for the past year.
A soulmate was what she believed him to be, but when she touched his key, it did not turn into a permanent ring around her finger like she wished. They were not meant to be. But how could anyone else come to love her as he had? How could she come to love anyone as she loved him?
Dominic could easily use that information to his advantage.
Attempt to be the one to finally make her feel something after Cal’s death.
Charm her into his false sense of security by making her feel what others could not.
Falling in love with Dominic Nite, Adara imagined, was like falling into darkness—deep, unavoidable for most, and utterly hopeless to find a way out.
His heart was a black, depthless hole in which others fell and never escaped, impenetrable by light.
She saw it in his eyes. There was nothing in that deep void.
At least, nothing near the surface where she would be safe enough to enter.
No, if there was any sense of emotion inside the heartless monster before her, she would have to be in too deep to find out.
And she was not keen on plunging into the darkest depths of Dominic’s cruel soul.
Alas, he was a master manipulator. She could not be irked that he was trying to beguile her into giving up her key when she was the one who offered it up with a game of love. Being angry at Dominic for stealing keys was like being angry at a snake for having scales; it was just his nature.
To never love or be truly loved.
It was all an illusion he created in their minds. They loved a version of him that wasn’t real, a version that he pretended to be.
Adara didn’t understand how he could do it. End so many lives all because of a feeling he never knew. It must be so lonely for him to be falsely loved by so many. Then watch those who grew to love him die at his own hands.
How can you do it? She almost blurted, but refrained because she knew she’d never get an answer. How can you toy with one of the deepest emotions we can feel and use it to destroy people without a second thought?
Perhaps the answer was because Dominic never knew love. Maybe he was incapable of that very emotion, so he ruined others with it.
How very sad it must be. To go your entire life without feeling love.
Though Callan’s death destroyed her, Adara would have loved him all over again if she could go back, even knowing the unchangeable outcome.
Had she known she’d lose her family and friends, still, she would not have spent any less time with them.
She would rather feel love and the inevitable pain it brought with it than never feel it at all.
But Dominic would never understand that.
Instead, he’d keep pushing it away, afraid of what it could do to him.
That, Adara knew, would be a tough obstacle to overcome.
Having never been open to love, she wasn’t sure how she could be the one to make Dominic Nite finally feel so deeply.
She huffed in annoyance, hating how challenging this war was, but ultimately knowing she had no other choice.
“What was that for, love?” Dominic asked, noting her change in breathing.
Gods, she hated when he called her that. It was such a derogatory nickname to use for someone who was incapable of love. Nothing more than a mockery.
He lifted a hand, fingers entwining with a lock of her hair. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
She pulled away. “Oh, nothing,” Adara sighed innocently. “Just wishing that I was literally anywhere else rather than being stuck on a ship with you.” Although she knew she needed to interact with him to win his key, she still despised being near him.
Damon had drilled it into her mind that he could not be trusted. He’ll do whatever it takes to make you fall for him. Never fall for any of his tricks. The words echoed in her mind, a constant reminder that even if Adara hadn’t known Dominic for long, Damon had—and it had not ended well.
“Trust me, I’m not too fond of making this trip with you either. But we need to work together. It’s the only chance we have at creating the Realm Fracturer.”
Adara rolled her eyes. Like she didn’t know that already. She never would have mentioned knowing about the shadow steel or dragon scale if she didn’t need his help to find the other relics.
“Okay, I have another question,” Dominic said, glancing between her and the oil lamp illuminating the space between them. “Where did you learn to fight?”
Adara practically sighed in relief. Finally, something simple she could answer. “My parents taught me. I sparred with my brother almost every day. How’d you learn?”
“I taught myself,” he stated plainly. “Failure and fear were my teachers,” he continued, tone suddenly grave. His harsh gaze fixed on her. “I’d have died long ago if I didn’t learn.”
The silence following covered them like a blanket and did nothing to fight off the cold of night. A chill ran down her spine, though she made it a little more pronounced than necessary, along with a yawn. It was an easy way out of being in his presence.
But before she could even speak to let him know she was going to retire for the night, Dominic must have noticed her feigned weariness and said, “Why don’t you go ahead and get some sleep. We have a lot to figure out for when we arrive in Enfider. Wouldn’t want fatigue to cause you to slip up.”
He pushed himself up from the floor, taking the lantern with him.
“Wait,” she said.
He paused at the threshold, his figure shadowing the door frame. It had been so long since anyone cared enough to ask about her. His company hadn’t been as stifling and disconcerting as she expected.
She shook her head to herself, quickly dismissing those delusional thoughts.
She couldn’t remember the last time someone cared enough to ask about her—and that day still had not come.
Dominic didn’t care for her one bit. It was all a ploy to make her think he did.
And despite knowing better, she’d wanted to fall for it.
“Leave the lantern,” she said, suddenly suffocated by the shadows that lingered in the corners of the storage room.
He arched a brow, glancing around the room, as if he’d find some monster hiding in the dark.
“Please,” she added when he made no move to do as she asked.
“Is the all-powerful Flamecarrier scared of the dark?” Dominic teased with a mocking smirk, leaning against the door frame.
She lowered her eyes and twisted her signet ring around her finger.
He tracked the motion, gaze lingering on her hands, skin twisted with mangled scars.
“You never know what may be lurking in the shadows,” she murmured.
At her somber tone, Dominic’s expression fell flat. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then clamped his lips shut and merely placed the lantern on the floorboards. The door creaked slowly closed behind him. Adara listened to his footsteps fade away, the serenity his presence brought vanishing too.