Chapter 28
At the bright light shining in through the window, Adara’s eyes fluttered open. The comfort of the thick duvet atop her reminded her that she wasn’t sleeping in her berth on The Lykren. A warm breeze tickled the back of her neck, and she wondered when the window had been opened.
Her eyes widened. No, not a breeze. A breath. Accompanied by a light weight around her waist. Something hard pressed against her back, warmth radiating from it. Adara blinked once more, as if waking from a daze, and finally, it all snapped into place.
Dominic’s breath grazed the back of her neck, his lips mere inches from her skin. Her back was pressed against his strong chest. Their bodies were molded together with his arm draped around her torso.
She jolted upright. “What the Hel!” she shrieked, springing out of his reach. Stumbling over her own feet, Adara’s shoulder slammed into the wall, eliciting a wince of pain.
Dominic, still groggy from sleep, didn’t notice as he startled awake, latching onto a knife he’d planted on the bedside table last night.
He aimed it in front of him, the initial shock in his widened eyes ebbing away as he scanned the room and found they were in no danger.
Glancing between the two of them, his eyes widened almost imperceptibly as he must have realized what he’d been doing in his sleep.
“Would you believe me if I said I got cold and used you for warmth?” He yawned, lying back down and stretching out across the disheveled sheets.
Adara glared at him while rubbing her sore shoulder.
“No,” she said sternly. Gods, she knew it had been a bad idea to sleep next to him—waking up in the comfort of his arms, hearing his voice, raspy and heavy with sleep, seeing his unkempt hair, which he ran a hand through as he lay there staring up at the ceiling.
Adara averted her eyes, hating how damn attractive he was.
No wonder so many girls had given up their keys to him.
She tried to convince herself that she only enjoyed those few seconds of being in his arms before throwing herself off him because she missed Callan.
She’d give anything to the gods to make it possible to see him one last time.
Every pleasant memory she had of Cal had been plagued by the image of the last time she’d seen him: bloodied and broken in her arms, gasping for breath, using his last bit of air to tell her he loved her and handing over his key.
A weight settled on her, like she could still feel the ghost of his limp, lifeless body in her arms.
Adara’s hand reached for the key around her neck, resting against her sternum.
She traced the shape of the metal, hating that his key had not formed a ring around her finger, hating that he had not been her soulmate.
She didn’t understand why Calandra would send Callan into her life, let her fall in love with him, the goddess herself knowing they weren’t made for one another.
Firelight danced, illuminating the room further as Dominic flicked his fingers and set the candles ablaze. Adara’s hand instantly dropped, remembering who she was with.
“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing my entire body was touching you,” Dominic said with a smirk. “You can’t exactly chop off every part of me. That would be breaking our deal.” He pulled on a cream tunic, followed by a dark green jerkin with gold thread embroidered across the lapels.
Adara cursed that inane blood oath she made with him to ensure this game of love would reach its end.
“Well, there was one specific body part that was pressed up harder against me than any other. I could settle for cutting that part off.” She crossed her arms and didn’t bother to hide her suggestive glance below his navel.
Adjusting his clothes with a smirk on his face, he replied, “That’s the best part, love. Aside from this.” He waved a hand in front of his face.
Although she could agree with him about that devilishly handsome face of his, she’d never let it show.
Adara snorted and rolled her eyes. “Please, the only good thing about you is that you can afford to buy me pretty things.” She strode across the room and opened the armoire to pull out the light blue gown, holding it on display as she admired the skirts that glittered in the early morning sun shining through the window.
Placing a hand on his chest, Dominic feigned affection. “Aww, how sweet. You’re not entirely repulsed by me.”
“Don’t get used to it,” she said.
Holding the dress high, careful not to let it drag on the floor, Adara stepped into the bathing chamber and locked the door behind her.
She padded over to the window and yanked the curtains closed.
The room instantly grew dimmer as she quickly stripped out of her clothes and tossed them to the floor, hanging her dress on a hook next to the door.
Adara couldn’t help but stare as she glimpsed herself in the mirror above the washbasin.
She grimaced at the person staring back at her.
The skin underneath her eyes had been tinted darker, a result of the horrendous sleep she’d gotten last night because of her nightmares.
She hated the power the Shadow Empire still had over her, even after she’d escaped.
A glance down at her clean, uninjured ankle—where she’d felt the powerful teeth of a drevlic bite into her—told her that it was all in her head.
She couldn’t decide if that made it better or worse.
The burns that marred her arms, at least, had healed overnight, leaving her skin smooth and pristine.
She’d been prone to losing control of her powers soon after she had escaped the Shadow Empire.
She’d awoken countless times to the world around her on fire, a blaze caused by her inability to tell her dreams apart from reality.
She’d been lucky to have been trained well enough to put it out before more damage was done.
Running a hand through her hair, Adara sighed as something she could only place as discomfort settled in her stomach.
She’d grown accustomed to the red staining her brown hair, a reminder of the Hel she’d been through.
Now it was gone. She didn’t like it. It made her look weak, like her trauma had never happened.
It made her look too much unlike herself.
Yet part of her smiled faintly at how normal she looked without it.
No longer was she a monster, bathed in the blood of her victims, which was exactly how she received that particular marking.
After that final battle, moments before she was thrown through a portal to Lykrios.
After losing everyone she loved, Adara had been covered in the blood of her enemies and friends alike.
She’d attempted to clean herself countless times—offered a variety of soaps and clean water courtesy of the healer who found her—scrubbed her hair until her scalp had been left bleeding and burning.
But no matter how hard she tried, only her skin came clean.
Streaks of crimson had stained her hair ever since, a permanent reminder from the gods that she’d failed them.
Adara shook her head. Perhaps, just for tonight, for the festival of Livisian, she could let the girl she once was see a glimpse of daylight.
No one here knew her. She could be someone else for the night, not have to worry about keeping her wits about as the Phoenix.
It could be like the celebration back home, like the simpler days she missed so dearly.
With that in mind, she smiled and stepped into her beautiful gown with skirts of starlight.
The moment Dominic stepped into their room, he almost dropped the tray of food he brought back for the two of them.
Breath catching, he schooled his expression to indifference before Adara could notice he’d been staring at her in that blue dress, sitting at the edge of the bed, eyes locked on a book.
Strands of brown hair framed the profile of her face, waves cascading down her back beneath the circlet of flowers she received from that little girl yesterday.
Her bold lashes fluttered with each blink above those gorgeous blue eyes that, despite having been dimmed by the elixir, seemed alight with something as they scanned the words of the book in her lap.
The narrow slit in her skirts revealed her legs crossed beneath the fabric.
The only thing out of place was her black boots sticking out from beneath her skirts, but he doubted anyone would be able to tell when she stood.
With the faint glow of the candles and the sunlight shining in through the window, her dress shimmered with an ethereal grace.
The silver beading at the hem of the bodice glinted against Adara’s radiant skin.
Perhaps it was the magic that flowed through her, but she felt like a beacon, glowing and bright, and something he couldn’t resist. A moth to the flame.
Dominic had always known Adara was beautiful, but seeing her like this was different.
It was like his world had been turned upside down, and he was seeing her in an alternate universe.
One where they weren’t always fighting for their lives.
One where Adara was this princess whose beauty could outshine the brightest stars on the darkest nights, and he was nothing more than some orphaned boy pining for her to glance his way.
But he knew Adara was quite the opposite, and he couldn’t help but think about how perfect she’d look slaughtering her enemies in that damn dress. She could do anything and make it look good.