Chapter 34 #2
“Don’t you dare die,” Caleb shouted from the caravan, his head peeking out of the flaps. He pointed a finger at Dominic and Adara. “That’s an order,” he said with a forced smile.
Dominic rolled his eyes, and Adara huffed a laugh under her breath.
“Brilliant words of encouragement,” Tobias said.
“Get out of here,” Dominic demanded with a dismissive wave of his hand. “That’s an order.”
Caleb gave a salute and ducked back into the caravan. The rest piled into the covered wagon or mounted their horses. They waved solemnly as their horses spurred into a gallop, eager to leave this place.
Dominic turned his eyes to the archway before the Ruins.
He’d seemed distant most of the journey here.
Perhaps he was as terrified as she was. His gaze settled back onto Adara.
“Remember,” he said. “Your eyes will deceive you here. Believe nothing.” That was all Dominic said as he took another step forward—not through the arch, but around.
Adara, too, stepped around the arch, not trusting whoever had crafted it.
The air instantly went cold. Goosebumps formed on her arms despite the long sleeves she wore. The sun disappeared behind the dark clouds above, casting the entire land in gray dimness. The wind blew, sending up clouds of sand that tinted the air, like looking through a dusty window.
Trees entirely stripped of leaves were scattered about, with gnarled roots protruding from the dry, cracked ground.
Bones and bricks littered the desert, with blood-smeared warnings on them, like the arch.
Adara’s pulse quickened to the point her arteries threatened to burst. A large, alabaster pillar, tainted with dirt and some other grime that she could only think to be bodily fluid, lay half buried in the sand.
Adara sidestepped, then halted. Her hand shot up to her mouth and nose, a barrier between her and the putrid stench permeating the air above the body at her feet.
If it could even be called a body. Flesh and blood and sinew lay splattered beneath the pillar.
Dominic tugged on her sleeve, steering her away, but there was no escape from the gore. Mutilated and maimed beyond recognition, bloody organs and bones lay scattered in the sand. Broken bodies hung from nooses tied to shriveled trees. Limp figures swayed in the violent wind.
Even after all the death she’d seen and caused, it took every ounce of will for her not to vomit from the reeking stench of decay. Dominic let out a guttural sound in front of her that could only have been a gag. That, at least, made her feel like less of a coward.
“We should split up,” Dominic said, his voice low, careful not to attract anything.
“What?” Adara whisper-yelled as she pulled her hood over her head and wrapped the scarf over the lower half of her face to shield against the particles of sand assaulting them in the squall. Still, it felt like the filthy hands of the dead were contaminating her skin.
Dominic whirled to face her, glaring at her over his own scarf. “You heard me,” he said. “That way, if something happens, at least one of us has a better chance of survival. If whatever lies here finds both of us, then neither of us are getting these ashes or leaving alive.”
Adara’s heart skipped at the palpable terror radiating from him.
His words were stern but his eyes held sorrow behind the ire.
Like he already knew they were condemned to a wretched fate.
He took her hand in his, calluses rough against her skin.
She focused on the feeling of him, memorized the way his thumb stroked across the back of her palm, as if it’d be the last.
“At least one of us should fulfill our goal of forging the Realm Fracturer,” Dominic said softly, reluctantly dropping her hand.
Adara glanced to either side of them, expecting to see some creature messing with his mind, but she saw nothing. Her eyes settled back on him, hollowness filling her bones, mirroring the dread in his eyes.
“Has this place already claimed your sanity?” she asked. “We are not splitting up. We’ll be vulnerable if we’re separated. We have a better chance at survival if we fight together. We can keep each other in check if the other is deceived.”
Slowly, he shook his head, brows creased together. His despair crushed her. She reached out to him.
In a flash, Dominic was behind her. A blow to the back of her legs had her collapsing forward.
Pain spiked through her knees as she hit the ground.
Her wrists were suddenly bound together, thorns pricking her skin from the vine Dominic conjured with magic.
A moment later, he was back in her sight, towering over her.
Adara attempted to stand, but her feet and hands were bound together behind her back.
She kneeled there, tied to a tree, rage boiling in her blood.
“What the Hel are you doing?” One thought and fire would be sent crackling down her arms and legs, burning through his vines.
He cut off the air around her, leaving her gasping for breath. Her magic was stifled by the lack of oxygen to feed her fire. He only allowed a thin amount near her nose and mouth to breathe. Gasping, she stared at him in disbelief, dizzy from such little air.
Dominic pulled down his scarf and smirked.
The kind of unpredictable grin that had her questioning where his sanity went and how long ago he’d lost it.
The kind of smile that had her wondering if he was about to flirt with her or slice her into ribbons.
She hadn’t found a way to distinguish between the two yet.
“There is no we, Adara. There never will be. One of us is going to die in the end,” he said, stalking closer with predatory calm.
Adara thrashed against the vines wrapped around her hands and feet, hissed when the thorns cut her skin. If she could make herself bleed enough, the blood could slick her hands, then she’d be able to slip free.
Dominic stared at her, emerald eyes suddenly alight with something she couldn’t place. “Consider this a mercy. I’ll let the Ruins break you before I get the chance to,” he said, turning to leave.
He’d only made it one step before Adara laughed bitterly.
“Nothing in this world can hurt me more than I’ve already been hurt.
” What was he thinking? Let the Ruins break her before he got the chance?
She couldn’t read whatever it was he was feeling.
Was he doing this because he cared and didn’t want to hurt her, so he’d rather leave her now?
No, Dominic Nite would not pass the opportunity to get her key. So why leave her here to die?
Adara wondered if he had already lost his mind to this place.
“Everything has a breaking point, and I’ve already reached mine,” she continued, stalling, distracting him while she scraped her wrists against the thorns, warm blood coating her hands.
“You can’t break what’s already been broken down to nothing. ”
He whirled toward her and prowled closer, crouching before her.
His hands were frigid as they pulled down her scarf to delicately trace her jawline.
Fingers made their way under her chin, forcing her to meet his cold, dead eyes.
His harsh gaze settled on her. The sorrow, the fear, the pain—any emotion that had been there seconds before was gone.
A tidal wave that washed away all feelings and left nothing to remain.
He was so close that she could feel his breath on her.
If only he’d allowed the air to return to the rest of the atmosphere around her.
That way, she could burn her way through these vines and scorch him with them.
Had this been his plan all along? Abandon her in the Ruins so she’d go insane enough to fall in love with the King of Keys?
“I know I can still hurt you,” Dominic said, his words an icy calm that she knew was deadlier than any broiling rage could be.
“You don’t seem like some poor soul that’s already reached their breaking point.
So, yes, love, I can still break you.” His nails bit into her skin, fingers holding her jaw in a forceful grip.
A maniacal smirk tugged at his lips. “And I have every intention of doing so.”
Adara bared her teeth and thrashed against the vines binding her limbs together, ignoring the sting.
He brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. “Don’t fight it, love,” he whispered.
She could practically feel his malicious smirk against her cheek.
“You should have known.” He shifted away from her ear, bringing his face in front of hers, their lips dangerously close. His fingers grazed her neck, wrapping gently around her throat, angling her face toward him. He leaned in, as if he might kiss her.
Part of her wanted him to.
But he stopped, their breath mingling in the sliver of space between them. “It’s all lies, darling,” he drawled, eyes gleaming with sinister triumph.
Adara went still as his breath grazed her lips, his fingers clutching at her neck. An action he’d done a million times that had always made her heart pound, never certain of his next move.
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 without looking 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.