Chapter 54 #2
“How long have you been able to turn?” Dominic asked, curiosity lining his eyes. He kept glancing between her and the scale, scrutinizing gaze running over her, as if he’d see a sheen of scales beneath her skin.
“While I was imprisoned in the Shadow Empire, I unlocked my ability to shapeshift into a dragon. It’s usually a rite of passage,” she explained, images of fire shifting at her fingertips that sharpened into claws as she idly played with her flames.
Adara was the only Flamecarrier she knew of that could half-shift.
She was able to sprout wings or grow horns or protract her claws or fangs without having to fully change into a dragon.
She was unsure why, but she assumed it was because of the torture she’d endured.
The Shadow Empire might have broken her, but it also made her stronger, made her something to fear.
As much as she’d lost during those treacherous years, she would not be the same without it.
“There’s usually a mentor guiding us through training.
My father taught me until I was taken when I was nine.
” A piece of her heart seemed to rip off and melt away at the thought of her father.
“The empire knew the full capabilities of Flamecarriers, and thought a dragon would be a valuable weapon. So they experimented and trained and pushed me until I reached my full potential. It almost killed me plenty of times, but I swore that I’d never be as helpless as I was the night they took me.
If anything, I’d die trying to be invincible.
I’d die, or they’d make me into a compliant weapon.
And I’d wait for the right time to show them the monster they turned me into.
” The flames at her hand climbed higher.
Adara clamped her fingers tightly to her palms. Smoke rose from her clenched fists, wisps of storm clouds curling into the air, waiting to strike.
Wood creaked as Dominic propped an arm on his desk, laying his cheek against his fist, lips pressed into a frown. He opened his mouth to speak.
“I don’t want your pity,” she uttered. She was weak and helpless after watching the Shadow Empire torture her loved ones.
She made a promise to herself that she would never feel that way again, even if it meant risking her life over and over again.
With Dominic staring at her like she was that sad, useless little girl, she wanted to punch that frown right off his handsome face.
His eyes shifted to hers, mouth flattening to a neutral line. “Good,” he said, some life finally seeping back into his eyes. “I was never going to give it to you.” He smiled.
And as insulting as his words sounded, Adara smiled back.
She drew a small knife from her belt and flicked it around her fingertips.
“I’ve been molded into a weapon my entire life,” she began.
“One so powerful everyone wants me in their arsenal.” Sparks crackled between her fingers along the knife.
“That day, I vowed that I would only be a weapon for myself. No one would ever use me again.” Her eyes stared blankly out the porthole.
Hues of orange blended into pink along the shimmering waves as the sun descended toward the horizon, painting the sky as the sea reflected it, like two souls cut from the same cloth.
“What about the prophecy?” This was the first time Dominic acknowledged the entire story Adara had told him about the princess that was her and the prophecy she was destined to fulfill.
She shook her head, mouth set in a hard line. A muscle twitched in her jaw. Her teeth were gritted at the barely suppressed anger. “No. The gods may want me as a weapon to fulfill the prophecy, but I am not doing it for them. I’m doing it for my people. Because I want to.”
Dominic rose from the chair and strode the few steps it took to sit beside her on his bed. His palm settled on her thigh, thumb brushing over her pants. “You don’t have to worry about that here,” he mused softly.
He opened his mouth to speak again, but Adara cut in.
“You can’t say that when you are only using me for my key,” she said sternly, shoving her knife back into the sheath on her belt.
Adara nearly shuddered at the thought of her power being his to manipulate.
Her soul forever tied to his hands to command.
Her light eternally intertwined with the darkness inside him.
Yet that didn’t stifle the comfort of his touch, or the thought that silently urged his hand to slide higher up her thigh.
Dominic only shook his head, sighed, and muttered, “You have no idea what I have planned after this war.”
Though his tone held no threat, those words made Adara’s heart pound.
“Enlighten me, then,” Adara challenged. She rose from the bed, shoulders rolling back. She needed to be away from him, to stop letting him touch her or she might freeze completely at his mercy. “Because I know exactly what I’m doing when I win.”
Dominic stood, eyes narrowed. A tender hand cupped her cheek.
An icy feeling sank into her skin, like his touch was draining all the fire—the fight—out of her.
A cruel smirk curled his lips. Adara hated and loved that expression all the same.
Despised it because she wanted to believe he wasn’t as ruthless and cunning as he seemed.
She wanted to believe that he’d fallen for her.
But she loved it because it was the reminder she needed to protect her heart from his bloodied hands that would only tear her apart.
“Love, why would I spoil my plans? That would take the fun out of it,” he said, voice laced with mock innocence.
Adara grabbed his arm, jerking it away from her face, holding him in a stern grip.
He leaned toward her, breath caressing her lips. “And what will you do with me, Phoenix?” he asked, completely unfazed by her iron hold. He ran his tongue over the edges of his teeth in a teasing smirk.
Biting the inside of her lip, she huffed out a breath, hating that she enjoyed the way that name rolled off his tongue.
She released his wrist from her grip, retreating a step.
“I have no secrets to hide.” She lifted her chin and crossed her arms. “You’re going to help me take down the Shadow Empire once and for all,” she declared, assuming an air of indifference.
“And after I destroy everything the shadows have touched”—she shrugged—“we’ll see if your life still means anything to me .
. . That is, if you don’t die in the war. ”
Ambivalence flashed behind his irises. A second later, his stern shield of arrogance returned. He stepped closer to her, their chests almost touching, her flame tattoo to his scar. Part of her wanted to back away. The other part of her wanted to step closer. Adara stood her ground.
“You lost before. What makes this time any different?” Dominic spat, suddenly full of icy contempt. “You can’t even find your way back.”
Those cold, harsh words drove her mad. He was right. How could she fulfill the prophecy without a way back to Blemythia? Here, in another land, she was utterly useless. Her people needed her, and she was not there. She was dead to them. In their eyes, the Shadow Empire had already won.
“Hel, you almost got yourself killed out there!” His voice rose in fury as he splayed an arm, gesturing out the porthole to the dark ocean. “Charging into battle against a bloody lykren! You could have died!” There was a harsh edge to his words, slicing cleanly through her like a knife.
“But I didn’t!” she snapped.
Dominic paced the room, running a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “You can’t go back,” he said more quietly but not any less fiercely.
A muscle ticked in her jaw, her teeth grinding together. “I can and I will,” she seethed.
He whirled to face her, eyes simmering with hysteria. “Why are you so adamant about running straight to your death?”
“You don’t seem to have a problem with it when it comes to you,” she rebuked.
Offering him her key in a game of love was courting death at its finest, yet Dominic was so eager to accept her offer.
And now he was what? Trying to protect her?
This was all bullshit. Every word that came out of his mouth, every emotion that flitted across his face, they were all lies.
Adara cursed herself for being foolish enough to believe them, for being insane enough to think she could steal the Thief of Hearts’s heart.
She cursed her stupid heart for aching to be near him, and her stupid mind for falling for his tricks.
But no matter how much she reminded herself it was all an act with him, hope kept burning inside her. Hope that it was real.
She turned away, running a hand through her hair and blinking through her watery eyes. “Why do you have to do that?” Adara murmured more to herself than to him.
“Do what?” His tone was hard, clipped.
Looking over her shoulder to meet his eyes, Adara said, “Make me think there’s actually something in you worth fighting for, then tear it all down.”
He frowned, the impassive mask falling away. He looked hurt.
Good. She wanted him to hurt as much as he’d hurt her.
The emotion written on his face disappeared as quickly as it came.
Dominic stared back at her, unmoving. Fury bubbled inside her.
After all they’d been through, the least he could do was give her some answers that weren’t always so damn cryptic.
Give her a reason behind all his wicked schemes so she could justify the way her soul reached out to him.