Page 7 of Break Her Heart
It was like watching a wound he’d long buried begin to bleed again.
I turned my gaze to Talia and noticed the way her lips parted like she wanted to say something that had been sitting on her tongue for years. But before she could speak, Adar blinked and looked away. The vulnerability in his face vanished like it had never been there.
“We need to go,” he said. “It’s not safe here.”
I wanted to protest, to give Adar a chance to be happy, but he was right. We still weren’t safe. We had to deal with August.
3
August
I stared at the fire for longer than I ever had. Letting it sear into my memory. The way the heat licked at the stone. The way the shadows danced like taunts. Every flicker branded into my brain. Because I didn’t know if I’d ever see fire again—real, wild, roaring fire. Not the kind in nightmares or hallucinations, but the kind that crackles in a hearth and smells like burning wood and old safety. I didn’t even know if I’d see the light of day again, for that matter.
It had only been one day.
Justone.
That was all it took for the walls of my mind to fracture, for time to stretch and warp and gnaw at itself. It felt like years had passed since she left. A lifetime.
But it had only been one day.
And it was only a matter of time before they realized he was dead. A matter of time before they came through that door andtook every bit of freedom that I had away from me. I just hoped she would come first.
Iprayedshe would come first.
And for a moment, I let myself imagine her there—out on the hills, beneath the pale sky where the snow had just begun to fall. The first snow of the season, soft as ash, blanketing the world in quiet.
I had taken her there.
The place my mother used to bring me when I was a boy. Where the wind never seemed to bite, and the grass grew even in winter’s grasp. Where I’d felt human once. Alive.
I told her about my mother. About the lullabies I only remembered in pieces. About how we’d lie in the grass until the stars came out, and the world felt far away. No one else knew that. No one elsegotthat piece of me.
And I gave it to her.
I saw her again in the memory—laughing, her black hair catching flakes of snow, her cheeks flushed from the cold. She lay back and pulled me down beside her. We stayed like that for hours. Just us. Just warmth. And I let myself believe it was real.
But the memory twisted.
Her smile sharpened. Her eyes filled with something cruel. She stood over me now in the vision, her boots pressing into my chest, voice cold as the snow falling around us.
“I used you.”
I blinked. The room snapped back into place.
Gods. I hadlet her in. Let her see me. Let her dig around in my ribs and take whatever she wanted. And she smiled the whole time.
I wanted to throw up.
I had given her something pure, and she turned it into a weapon.
The one who made mebeg. The one who looked at me like I mattered. Who said my name like a promise. And then lied.
She should’ve been different.
I despised her for what she did. Lied to me. Used me. Played me like a fool. But gods help me, I wasn’t letting her go. She was mine.
And she would fix this. Even if I had to chain her to the damn wall.
