Page 21 of We Were Meant to Burn (Ashes and Ruin Saga #1)

Back at camp, I felt the weight of a dozen unseen eyes tracking my every move. A chill slithered down my spine, though I wasn’t sure if it was my own paranoia or the very real scrutiny of the people around me.

Lian knelt beside Kerun, his hands gentle as he held a steaming cup of chamomile tea to the boy’s lips. Kerun’s face was pale, his breathing shallow, but steady. Xixi sat sentinel at his side, her wolfish tail flicking back and forth in agitation. Every so often, she nudged his arm with her small, foxlike nose, as if she could will him back to full health through sheer determination.

A few feet away, Elías busied himself with grinding the mushrooms we had gathered the previous day, his mortar and pestle scraping softly against stone as he prepared a broth for Kerun. His usually playful expression was absent, replaced with quiet focus.

And then there was Dom.

His back was to me, but his entire body was rigid, his fists clenched at his sides. He stood locked in a hushed argument with Malakai. Though I couldn’t hear the words exchanged between them, the tension in Dom’s shoulders, the sharp flick of Malakai’s silver hair as he turned his head, the way his stance remained unshaken—it was clear they were fighting about me.

Of course they were.

At my approach, Malakai abruptly ended the conversation. His body straightened, and before I could brace myself, he was in front of me, closing the distance between us in just a few long strides.

“Are you alright?”

His voice was low, quiet—unbearably soft. His violet eyes swept over me with that keen, all-seeing gaze of his, missing nothing.

“I’m fine,”

I said, though my voice sounded heavier than I meant it to.

Malakai didn’t look convinced. He reached out and caught my wrist before I could pull away, his touch unexpectedly soft as he lifted my arm for inspection.

"You’re bleeding.”

I blinked down at the thin crimson line marring my forearm. I hadn’t even noticed, not after everything else that had happened. Compared to Dom’s wounds, it was nothing—barely a scratch.

I tugged my arm free, covering the wound with my opposite hand. I just hoped he didn’t notice the gouges in my shoulders, or else I’d never hear the end of it.

“It’s not my blood you should be worried about,”

I muttered.

Malakai exhaled through his nose, and something flickered in his expression. A touch of exasperation, maybe. A touch of something else.

“Let’s have Elías be the decision-maker on that,”

he said, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. He turned slightly, as if about to call over the Curador, but I grabbed his wrist before he could.

“I said I was fine.”

The words came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t take them back. The last thing I needed was to be fussed over.

"I just want—”

I hesitated, the truth rising to the surface before I shoved it back down.

What did I want?

To be normal.

To be a girl without nightmares clawing at the edges of her mind.

To be someone without magic burning beneath her skin, waiting for the moment to consume her whole.

To be anything other than this.

But I couldn’t say that. Not to Malakai.

“I just want a bath,”

I finally muttered. It wasn’t entirely a lie. My skin was still raw from the heat of my flames, my hair smelled like ash, and I felt like I had been wrapped in a layer of soot and smoke.

Malakai studied me for a long moment. Then, without another word, he turned and jogged back to his pack. He rummaged through it for a moment before pulling out a neatly folded bundle of clothes.

"I finished this yesterday,”

he said, returning to me.

"Thought you’d want to try them on.”

I hesitated before taking them, my fingers brushing against his as I accepted the bundle.

The touch was fleeting. Brief.

But I felt it.

His skin was warm.

So deliciously warm.

I swallowed against the sudden tightness in my throat and turned away, gripping the clothes tighter than necessary.

Without another word, I disappeared into the cave to find a natural spring.

The cool water of the spring was a relief against my scorched skin. I sank beneath the surface, letting the weight of the water press down on me, letting it wash away the grime, the sweat, the scent of fire that clung to my hair.

For a moment, just a moment, I could almost pretend I wasn’t who I was.

That I wasn’t Nix Zaldanna.

That I wasn’t a girl with blood on her hands.

That I wasn’t the Nightshade of Rojas.

When I finally emerged, I dressed in the clothes Malakai had given me. I expected them to be the same as before—plain, practical, altered only for the sake of fit. But as I smoothed my hands over the fabric, something new caught my eye.

Silver thread.

Intricate embroidery lined the sides of the pants, delicate vines curling up the seams like creeping ivy. The trim of the jacket shimmered, the silver stitching woven into beautiful patterns of flowers, their petals blooming across the dark fabric. The details were fine, impossibly delicate—far too intricate for anything Elías would have designed.

I ran my fingers over the silver thread, tracing the edges of each embroidered petal, the careful lines of the vines.

Malakai had added his own touch.

A small, unfamiliar smile tugged at my lips.

I didn’t know what to do with it.

I didn’t know what to do with him.

But for now, I let myself keep the smile.

As I walked back from the fresh spring, I couldn’t shake the image of the ciguapa from my mind. That gaping, lipless mouth. That mass of thick, tangled hair slithering around her ankles like it had a life of its own. The way her eyeless face had turned toward me, somehow seeing me despite the empty sockets.

A shiver ran down my spine.

It wasn’t the first monster I’d faced, but something about her unsettled me in a way I couldn’t explain. Maybe it was the way she looked like a child at first. Maybe it was the way Dom had reacted—the way his entire body had locked up, how his voice had cracked when he saw her.

Or maybe it was the way she had made me feel. The way I’d wanted to burn her. To unleash the fire inside of me and watch her turn to ash.

I shook the thought away and tightened the belt around my waist as I neared the main part of the cave. The closer I got, the more I could hear the others murmuring.

No, not murmuring. Whispering.

And not the kind of whispers shared in secret, soft and warm. These were sharp-edged, honed like knives.

I stopped in my tracks.

Pressing myself against the rough stone wall, I leaned forward as much as I dared, listening.

“She’s out of control,”

Dom’s voice came first, low and heavy, like the weight of the words dragged him down. The sound of crackling fire filled the small silence that followed.

"I don’t care what Malakai says. You didn’t see her out there. You didn’t see her eyes.”

My fingers curled into my palms.

I had lost control.

The collar was supposed to suppress my magic, but tonight, it hadn’t. My power had burst free like a broken dam, an inferno swallowing everything in its wake. I had felt it unravel, a beast unchained, and I’d loved it.

That was what scared me most.

“You’re right,”

Malakai admitted, and the words sent a sharp pang through my ribs.

"But it’s not entirely her fault. The collar is suppressing her magic. That she can use her magic even with the collar? Now, that’s the problem.”

Lian hummed thoughtfully.

"I have a theory on that,”

he said, his voice quieter, more hesitant.

"All tech has limits. Boundaries. If something pushes past those limits—if something doesn’t fit into its parameters—the system overloads.”

“What are you saying?”

Malakai asked.

“I’m saying that her power is building up inside her,”

Lian said.

"Like . . . like steam in a sealed pot. If there’s no release—”

“She’s a bomb waiting to explode,”

Dom finished for him, his voice edged with razors.

I pressed my back harder against the stone, bile rising in my throat.

A bomb.

A weapon.

Something destructive.

“Well,”

Lian muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

"I wouldn’t put it in those terms . . .”

Xixi, traitorous little thing, was curled up in his lap, purring in her sleep. I watched as he absentmindedly scratched behind her ear, his brows drawn together like he was trying to piece together a puzzle he wished he hadn’t found.

Malakai nudged Dom’s shoulder.

"I thought you were starting to warm up to her,”

he said, almost teasing. But there was an edge to his tone, a weight behind the words that told me he wasn’t just making small talk.

I had thought so, too.

For a brief moment, in the jungle, I had felt it—that slow, tentative shift, the smallest thaw in the ice between us. It hadn’t been friendship, not yet, but it had been something.

But hearing Dom now, the raw honesty in his voice, I knew I had been wrong.

“You didn’t see the look in her eyes,”

he said, his voice hushed but tight with certainty.

"All that raw power. I’ve never been more scared in my life.”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

I understood his fear. Because I shared it.

Because for the first time in my life, when the flames had poured from me, licking up my arms and consuming the ciguapa whole, I hadn’t wanted to stop.

It had felt . . . right.

Like slipping into a second skin.

Like something inside of me had finally woken up.

Shame crawled up my throat like poison.

I was a monster.

The kind of monster that set the world on fire and smiled while it burned.

With a steadying breath, I stepped out from behind the rock, forcing an easy smile onto my face like armor. If they thought I’d been bathing this whole time, maybe they wouldn’t look at me like I was something dangerous.

“You guys should check out the spring,”

I called ahead, keeping my voice light, unaffected.

"The water is crystal clear and warm. I think I actually saw a turtle swim under me.”

No one responded right away.

Dom looked away, unable to meet my gaze. Malakai too.

Lian fidgeted with his hands in his lap, wringing his fingers like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. Elías, ever the first to fill a silence, hummed tunelessly under his breath, but even he wasn’t looking at me directly.

If it wasn’t obvious they’d been talking about me before, it certainly was now.

The air between us felt heavy, like the jungle before a storm.

“I’m sorry,”

I said, hating how small my voice sounded. I clenched my hands into fists before I could see them shaking.

"I don’t know what came over me.”

That was a lie.

I knew exactly what had come over me. I’d enjoyed it.

That sick, twisting pleasure of unleashing my magic, of setting something on fire and watching it burn. It had felt good—until the moment I realized what I had done. Until the moment I saw the way Dom looked at me. Like I was something to fear.

I swallowed hard, pushing past the tightness in my throat.

Malakai exchanged a glance with Dom. Lian was still avoiding my gaze.

The silence stretched unbearably until Elías, blessed fool that he was, spoke up. A grin flickered across his face like he was trying to dispel the tension.

"Li-Li says you’re a ticking time bomb.”

Lian’s jaw dropped. He elbowed Elías hard in the ribs.

"I did not!”

“Ouch! You sort of did,”

Elías said with a mock wince, rubbing his side.

Lian sputtered, but before he could say anything else, Kerun, never one to let an argument go by unbothered, waded in to add his opinion. Within seconds, all three of them were bickering over exactly what Lian had said, twisting his words back at him with increasingly ridiculous interpretations.

The shift was small but effective. The weight in the air lightened. The knot in my chest loosened just a fraction.

Xixi, disturbed by their back-and-forth, uncurled herself from Lian’s lap and padded over to me, letting out a small mewl. I bent down, scooping the little alebrije into my arms. She was warm, solid, something steady in the chaos of my mind. A smile tugged at my lips as I buried my fingers in her soft fur.

Then I turned to Malakai and Dom.

"I truly am sorry,”

I said, my voice quieter.

Malakai’s lips parted, like he was going to say something, but then he hesitated. He exchanged another look with Dom before finally settling his gaze on me.

"We know that,”

he said, offering a tentative smile.

A sharp glare from him had Dom rolling his eyes before turning back to prod the turkey roasting on the spit.

“It’s not your fault,”

Malakai added, voice soft with sincerity.

But he was wrong.

It was my fault.

I had been drawn to the ciguapa in the first place. I had burned down part of the jungle. I had nearly lost myself to the power coursing through my veins. Dom and Kerun had paid the price for it.

I couldn’t sit here, pretending everything was fine.

My stomach twisted, and my appetite vanished. I needed space. Somewhere I could think. Breathe. Maybe disappear for a while.

I got to my feet, turning toward the mouth of the cave.

“Where are you going?”

Malakai asked, his voice calm, but his eyes sharp, watching my every move.

I didn’t answer.

Didn’t trust myself to.

I stepped outside, into the cool night air, cradling Xixi in my arms. She let out a soft, contented purr, pressing against me, unbothered by my turmoil. If only it were that simple.

The jungle stretched before me, dark and endless. I gulped in a deep breath, trying to cool the fire that still simmered low in my lungs.

Above, the sky stretched vast and black, stars pricked like silver scars across its surface. The faint band of the goddess constellations arched above me, distant and unreachable.

I walked a little way from the cave, finding a quiet spot among the roots of a large ceiba tree. Settling down, I let Xixi curl up in my lap, running my fingers through her fur as I stared out at the horizon.

Tiepaz.

I had to get to Tiepaz.

It was the only way.

The only way to make sure this never happened again. The only way to make sure I couldn’t hurt anyone else.

Xixi stirred, tilting her head to peer up at me.

I hesitated, then whispered, “If Mother knew what I was capable of . . .”

The words caught in my throat. A shudder racked my shoulders. I swallowed hard.

"Well, let’s just say it would be best if she never finds out.”

Because I knew exactly what she’d do.

She would use me. Again.

Only this time, she would turn me into something worse than a monster. Worse than a weapon.

She’d turn me into her.

Xixi let out a small sound and butted her head against my chest, as if she understood.

I closed my eyes, pressing my forehead against the top of her head.

For now, I still had a choice.

I heard Malakai’s footsteps before I saw him. Soft, deliberate.

Even without turning, I could tell he was keeping his distance, gauging the storm he was about to walk into.

“Nix,”

he said at last, his voice gentler than I expected.

"What’s wrong?”

I almost laughed at that.

He sounded like he cared. But I knew better.

Everything he did—the careful words, the patience, the easy smiles—was all part of the game. Just another layer to the Hada’s charm. He had a job to do, and whether that meant dragging me to Tiepaz in chains or coaxing me there with sweet words and soft gestures, it made no difference in the end.

Rage swelled in my chest, hot and tight. I gently pushed Xixi off my lap and stood, squaring off against him.

"Don’t you dare act like you care.”

Xixi, despite how much she seemed to like Malakai, fluffed up in my defense. She bared tiny teeth and let out a growl, her fur bristling along her spine.

Malakai actually stepped back. His expression flickered with surprise as his gaze darted between me and the alebrije.

"I do care,”

he said, his voice so soft I almost didn’t hear him. He hesitated, then took a cautious step forward.

I scoffed, throwing up my hands.

"I don’t need your fake pity, Malakai.”

My voice came out sharp, slicing the air between us.

"All of this—everything between us—it’s just another one of your tricks, isn’t it?”

His brow furrowed, but I didn’t stop.

"It’s easier to keep me docile with food and nice clothes than to drag me to Tiepaz kicking and screaming. But don’t bother. I want to go. If there were anywhere farther from Rojas in all of Corinea, I’d be going there instead.”

A shadow passed over his face. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but instead, he inhaled through his nose and took another step toward me, slow and measured, like approaching a wild animal.

Xixi hissed a warning, arching her back.

Malakai’s violet eyes flickered as his canines lengthened just enough to glint in the moonlight. He didn’t say anything, but his presence was too much—the heat of him, the sheer weight of his gaze pressing against my skin.

I hated that it made my breath hitch.

“I don’t pity you,”

he murmured, so quietly that I had to watch his lips move to catch the words.

I glared at him, folding my arms tight over my chest, trying to suffocate the racing pulse beneath my ribs.

"I see the way you look at me sometimes,”

I bit out.

"I know pity when I see it.”

His head shook, slow and deliberate, his gaze never wavering.

"That’s not pity.”

Xixi stopped growling, tilting her head as if listening.

“I look at you that way because I admire you.”

I froze.

Malakai’s voice had taken on a rare intensity, stripped of all its usual teasing. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—those damn violet eyes—burned with something raw and unsettling.

“You’re resourceful, Nix,”

he went on, his voice like velvet over steel.

"Determined. Independent.”

He took another step, now so close I could count the silver flecks in his irises.

"I admire that about you. And I’m not trying to take any of it away. I just want to help you.”

My pulse pounded in my ears.

“Why?”

I forced the word out.

Malakai’s mouth curled, not quite a smirk, not quite a smile.

“Because that’s what friends do.”

Something traitorous inside me clenched.

Friends.

The word sent a sharp pang through my chest.

Even Xixi seemed startled by his response, lowering her hackles slightly as she sniffed in his direction, no longer sure if he was a threat.

I swallowed hard, searching his face.

"Is that what we are?”

My voice was quieter now, unsteady. “Friends?”

“I’d like to be,”

he admitted.

And then, before I could stop him, before I could even think, he reached up and tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.

His fingers were warm. Rough. His touch lingered for just a breath longer than necessary.

I was suddenly, painfully aware of the space between us. Of how easy it would be to close it.

The moment stretched too long. My thoughts tangled in ways they shouldn’t.

No.

This was dangerous. He was dangerous.

I stepped back, fixing my face into a blank mask.

"Good night, Malakai,”

I said stiffly, turning on my heel before I could let my treacherous heart betray me further.

Xixi let out an indignant chitter and darted between my feet, as if calling me a coward.

I didn’t need her to tell me.

I already knew.

And worse—so did Malakai.

Even as I walked away, I could feel his gaze on my back, could almost sense the amusement curling at his lips, as if he saw right through me.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t know the way my pulse still raced. The way my hands trembled slightly at my sides. The way my thoughts kept circling back to his touch, his words.

I clenched my jaw, pushing it all down.

This had to stop.

Whatever was happening between us—it was temporary.

Nothing more than a flicker of warmth before the cold set in.

Because in the end, I was human. And he was immortal.

And I refused to break my heart over something that I wasn’t even sure was real. Something that was never meant to last.