Page 53 of Break Her Heart
August stepped back, giving us space, though I could still feel the gravity of his presence like a storm held at bay. He didn’t interrupt, but I knew he was watching.
The crowd, sensing the shift in energy, began to stir. Slowly at first, like they weren’t sure if they were allowed to move. Then one by one, they began to step forward.
The first man dropped to his knee before August, then another, and another. Until a line had formed, each person bowing, murmuring their oaths or keeping their eyes downcast in reverence or fear—it was hard to tell which.
They were welcoming their new king. Not with cheers, but with submission.
And August, the mad thing that he was, stood at the center of it all like he’d been born for this moment. He looked like divinity wrapped in silk and steel.
I let go of Adar and looked at him. “You’re okay,” I whispered, more to convince myself than anything.
“You’re okay.” He glanced over me as if he expected to find something wrong.
“Did you go back to the cabin?”
“I went back to talk to Jonah but I couldn’t stay that far, not knowing the next time I’d see you. I’ve… I’ve been staying in August’s home and leaving only when necessary.”
I blinked. “You’ve been in town? That was too dangerous.”
“You’ve been in a castle of vampires. I don’t want to hear it.”
I managed a tight smile. He hadn’t changed.
A sharp whiff of smoke pulled my attention away. I turned and looked at the blackened remains of the podium, its wood scorched and splintered.
“Do you know what happened?”
I shook my head slowly, still staring at the pile of wood like it might give me answers. My fingers curled tighter around the edge of my cloak. Adar stared at it for a moment longer, his eyes distant and unfocused, as if he were back there in the moment that it happened. His chest rose and fell with a breath so deep it trembled slightly at the top, and then he finally tore his gaze away.
“Well, have you made any progress?” he asked, quieter now.
“We think we are looking for a blade of some sorts.” I kicked at a chunk of ice with the toe of my boot. “But that is all we know. Just pieces. Clues that don’t make sense yet.”
Adar was quiet for a moment. I felt his gaze on me, heavy and thoughtful.
“We can still run,” he offered, like it was the last thread of hope he could give.
“I’m not giving up yet,” I whispered. “There are so many pieces… I just have to figure out how they go together.”
He stepped a little closer, his breath misting the space between us. “If I could help you, I would.”
I nodded. I wasn’t the smartest, but Adar had always struggled more than I did with schooling. He never let that stop him from trying, though. That stubbornness—it was something we shared.
Behind us, a throat cleared. August.
We turned together, and there he was, standing just close enough to remind us who held the leash. He said nothing. Just lifted a hand and gestured toward the carriage like it was time to move on.
I turned back to Adar, not ready to let go yet. “Let’s meet for breakfast at the bakery in a week,” I said, squeezing his hand.
He gave a nod, but before I could step away, his grip shifted. He caught my wrist, firm and steady.
“Hey,” he said, low. “Be careful. Don’t let this go to your head.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, brow furrowed.
“The power, B.” His eyes searched mine. “Do not fall for him again because of it.”
For a second, I couldn’t speak. Then I gave the smallest nod, the kind that said what I couldn’t say out loud.
