Page 40 of We Were Meant to Burn (Ashes and Ruin Saga #1)

Iwoke to a face looming over me, shadowed against a blinding light.

The edges of my vision swam, dark shapes bleeding into one another, shifting, unsteady. I tried to move, but my body felt like it had been filled with lead, my limbs unresponsive, my head thick with fog.

The figure sat back, pushing hair from his face.

"I’m sorry, Nix.”

The voice cut through the haze, familiar in a way that made something inside me twist. I blinked, trying to focus, my eyes catching on the blood staining the front of his shirt.

Elías.

His face wavered in my blurry vision, but I’d know that voice anywhere.

I swallowed against the raw burn in my throat. “Elías?”

My voice came out cracked, wrong. Pain throbbed behind my eyes, a steady, punishing rhythm. I forced a breath, forced the words. “How?”

He shouldn’t be here.

He exhaled shakily, like he already knew what I was about to say. Like he already knew I’d hate him for it.

“Xixi told us what you were planning,”

he said, his voice breaking, his eyes wet with something I wasn’t ready to name.

"We weren’t going to let you fight this alone.”

A tear slid down his cheek, cutting through dirt and blood.

Each word was a claw raking across my ribs, cutting deep, cutting raw. I couldn’t breathe.

My pulse pounded in my ears. The weight of my body, the room, everything crushed down on me. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

“But how did she know?”

I rasped, my head spinning.

“She saw you talking to the queen.”

His voice was hoarse, broken.

"We came as fast as we could. We tried—”

A sharp, commanding voice sliced through the air.

“Silence.”

The world tilted as Danixtl stepped into view, her dark eyes gleaming with amusement, with triumph.

A slow, smug smirk curved her lips. She’d won.

She reached down, fingers tangling in Elías’s hair, yanking his head back to meet her gaze. “Go,”

she sneered in his face, her voice rich with condescension, with ownership. And then she tossed him aside like he was nothing.

Elías stumbled back, scrambling to his feet. He hesitated for a breath, his desperate, aching gaze locking with mine—like he wanted to say something, like he wanted to fix this.

Then he was gone.

Leaving me alone with Danixtl and the cold, sick realization that my friends had come after me anyway.

That I dragged them into this.

That I might have just killed them all.

“You should have seen it.”

Danixtl’s voice slithered through the haze, taunting, amused. Satisfied.

“These five stormed in here, swords blazing, thinking they could cut through the Bloodguard like it was nothing. It really was quite valiant. Foolish.”

She gave a mock sigh, tilting her head.

"But valiant.”

Something cold slid down my spine.

I followed her gesture, my body already tensing—already knowing I shouldn’t look.

But I did.

And my stomach hit my spine.

They were all here.

Malakai. Dom. Lian. Elías. Kerun. Even Xixi.

The wreckage of people I’d tried so hard to keep away from this.

They knelt in the center of the warehouse, hands and feet bound, a ring of Malditas standing over them with swords drawn. Blood marred their clothes, sweat glistening under the harsh overhead lights, their bodies battered but unbroken.

My throat clenched as Jaax finished binding Xixi, looping several thick ropes around her muzzle and paws, winding them so tight they cut into her fur. Her tail lashed violently against the floor, and a guttural growl rumbled from her throat.

I’m sorry, little one. Xixi’s mournful voice slipped into my mind, the edges of her words rough with guilt.

A sharp, splintering pain cracked through my ribs.

No.

Not this.

Anything but this.

Danixtl knelt beside me, her presence a sickly sweet rot in the air. She sneered, dark amusement glittering in her gaze.

“You know,”

she mused, “it was quite lucky timing on their part, I must say. If it weren’t for that Curador friend of yours, you’d be dead.”

She clicked her tongue in mock disappointment.

"Nasty trick you did with that coral tree nut.”

I tried to lurch forward, to strike, to do anything, but my body refused to obey. My limbs were still numb, sluggish from the aftereffects of the coral flower’s deadly touch.

So, I spat out the only thing I could.

“May Quiacatl eat your heart.”

Danixtl only laughed, low and indulgent.

"I don’t fear the goddesses,”

she crooned.

"Never have.”

She jerked her head, already dismissing me.

"Get her up. We’re leaving.”

And then she swept out of the warehouse, not even bothering to look back.

A fresh wave of fury burned through my veins. Not at her.

At myself as I took in my friends and their hunched forms.

I had dragged them into this. I had done this.

The one thing I swore would never happen.

The one thing I feared most.

Jaax crouched beside me, securing the last knot on Xixi’s bindings before turning his attention to me, his mouth curling into a cruel, satisfied smirk.

“Kind of poetic, don’t you think?”

He snickered, wrapping his arms around me, hauling me upright like I was nothing but a rag doll. Like I wasn’t even a threat anymore.

He leaned in, close enough that I could feel his breath against my cheek as he dragged a hand down the side of my face. His fingers ghosted over my jaw, slow, deliberate—mocking.

“The one thing you’ve feared this whole time . . .”

He inhaled deeply, like he was memorizing me, like he wanted to burn his presence into my skin.

“. . . is finally coming true.”

His smile widened, voice dripping with satisfaction.

“And it was all your fault.”

He tipped his head, savoring the words before delivering the final blow.

“You brought your friends right to us.”

Malakai’s snarl cut through the stale air like a blade.

"Get your hands off her!”

A growl rumbled in his chest, low and feral, the sound vibrating in my bones. His canines lengthened, his golden eyes burning with raw, unfiltered rage.

My heart slammed against my ribs, but not from Jaax’s grip—from the look in Malakai’s eyes.

We locked gazes, and in that brief, aching second, a million unspoken words passed between us.

Apologies. Pleas. Regrets.

I realized, with sickening finality, that there were too many things I had never said to him. That I would never get the chance to say them now.

I turned to Dom next, searching his face. The last of my family. My only connection to the truth of my past. My brother—

And I had lied to him.

Not with words, but with silence. With omission. With half-truths dressed as protection.

I had meant to spare him. Instead, I had dragged him into this.

The weight of it crushed down on me, stealing my breath, my voice. My will.

“Oh, give me a break,”

Jaax muttered, bored.

His fingers flexed against my scalp. Something in his gaze darkened. Shifted.

And before I could flinch away, before I could brace for it—he kissed me.

I choked.

Revulsion coiled in my gut, cold and sharp and all-consuming. His lips were a violation, an intrusion, a brand seared onto my skin.

I tried to move. To fight.

But my body was nothing but dead weight, useless and unresponsive.

Move, goddess-damn you.

But no matter how much I screamed at myself, no matter how much I willed my limbs to obey, they remained slack at my sides.

Jaax didn’t stop.

His fingers fisted in my hair, yanking, pulling until my scalp burned. His other hand roamed lower, possessive, claiming, kneading my breast like I was something to be taken, something to be used.

My stomach lurched.

Rage. Humiliation. Horror.

It all built inside me, a storm behind my ribs, a scream I couldn’t let out.

Malakai’s voice shattered through the warehouse, a raw, agonized roar that sent a shiver down my spine.

His rage was a mirror to my own.

Jaax pulled back, laughing, relishing in Malakai’s torment.

The sound was a dagger to my gut, twisting deep, tearing something inside me beyond repair.

He enjoyed this.

Not just the power, not just the control—but the suffering.

Mine. Malakai’s. All of it.

Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

I swallowed hard, choking back bile, choking back everything.

“Say goodbye, Princess,”

Jaax crooned, his voice thick with amusement.

He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear.

"You won’t remember this by tomorrow.”

The world blurred as he hooked an arm under my legs, gathering me up as if I weighed nothing. Then, just like that, he threw me over his shoulder.

A fresh wave of nausea churned in my gut as blood rushed to my head, my vision swimming, my cheek pressing against the hard leather of his armor.

“I’ll find you!”

Malakai’s voice roared through the warehouse, raw and furious, filled with a rage so palpable it burned through my veins.

"I’ll find you and I’ll kill you!”

Jaax paused, turning back like he had all the time in the world, his grip on me tightening just enough to remind me that I wasn’t getting out of this.

He met Malakai’s glare, his smirk widening, dripping with cruelty.

"No. You. Won’t,”

he sneered.

That smug, knowing look.

The certainty.

Because Malakai was bound, helpless, surrounded by an army of Malditas with swords at his throat. Because there was nothing he could do.

Nothing any of them could do.

I twisted in Jaax’s hold, my muscles straining, my lungs screaming for air as I fought against the dead weight of my limbs. But my body still refused to obey, still remained sluggish, drugged, ruined.

Malakai’s expression twisted in fury, in helplessness, his body coiled like a predator ready to pounce—if only he could.

And then the worst part.

The part that broke me.

I looked past him.

At Dom, Elías, Lian, Kerun.

At Xixi, bound, muzzled, still fighting even as the ropes cut into her fur.

Their faces were a mix of rage and fear and guilt.

They came for me.

Despite everything. Despite not knowing what was at stake. What it could cost them.

The walls of my chest caved in, sharp and brutal.

And now I was being carried away, leaving them at the mercy of a monster I should have stopped long before it came to this.

I squeezed my eyes shut as Jaax turned and stepped through the threshold, his laughter curling in my ears, a final, mocking knife to the ribs.

And the last thing I heard before he carried me into the dark—

Was Malakai, still fighting, still roaring my name.

And knowing it wouldn’t save me.

“No—”

I thrashed, twisting, trying to make myself heavy, impossible to carry. My elbows slammed against his back, my knee jerked toward his ribs—anything, anything to make him let go.

But it was useless.

Jaax’s Mentedor magic wrapped around me like chains, coiling through my muscles, pressing down on my lungs. The effects of the coral tree nut still lingered in my bloodstream, making my limbs sluggish, my strength pitiful.

The fight had already been taken from me.

I was losing.

I was lost.

“Cut it out,”

Jaax ordered, his voice laced with power.

My throat seized.

I tried to scream—to snarl, spit, anything— but nothing came out. The magic latched onto my vocal cords, silencing me in an instant, like a muzzle snapping shut over my mouth.

A violent shudder wracked through me as panic sank its claws into my ribs, deeper and deeper, until my breath came in short, desperate bursts.

I was trapped.

Not just in his grip. Not just in my own useless body.

In his will.

The wind howled as Jaax carried me away from the warehouse, biting at my skin, clawing through my tangled hair. But the cold outside was nothing compared to the frozen wasteland inside me.

I was dead.

Not in body. Not yet.

But in soul.

I was pain.

Desperation.

Guilt.

Anger.

Each shard of my broken heart splintered inside my chest, falling like shattered glass, tearing me apart from the inside out.

Jaax’s magic pressed deeper, curling through my mind like a slow, insidious rot. A command. A demand. A violation.

And I couldn’t stop it.

I had never been powerless. Never let anyone steal my will, my voice.

But here I was. Silent. Helpless. Dragged into the dark like prey.

Danixtl stood at the end of the pier, waiting, watching, her silhouette a smudge against the moonlit sky. She adjusted the sleeves of her battle leathers, every motion deliberate, calm, like this was nothing more than another night, another war won.

She pointed back toward the warehouse, her expression unreadable.

“Leave no evidence of our presence.”

Then she placed two fingers in her mouth and let out a shrill whistle.

The sea beneath the pier erupted.

Water exploded outward, drenching the dock, soaking my already freezing skin. Something massive surged from the depths—a leviathan alebrije with the wings of a dragon and the body of a serpent.

It swarmed into the air, its scaled hide gleaming beneath the moonlight, its wings casting a vast, rippling shadow across the water.

The wooden planks beneath us groaned under the sheer weight of it as it landed beside Danixtl, its long, sinuous tail curling around the edge of the pier.

She climbed onto its back with the ease of someone who had never known fear, never known weakness.

The Malditas followed, their movements swift, disciplined. This was routine to them.

A hunt. A capture. A victory.

Danixtl barely spared me a glance.

“Finish your little game, Jaax, then come home,”

she said, dismissive, as though I was nothing more than a chore waiting to be checked off a list.

And then, without hesitation, she flicked her wrist—

And the alebrije launched into the sky.

I could only watch as she disappeared into the night, the distant flap of massive wings the last sound before the silence closed in around me.

And then, all that was left—

Was me.

And the end I had fought so hard to escape.

Jaax dumped me onto the wooden pier like discarded cargo, my body hitting the planks with a sickening thud.

Pain jolted through my ribs, rattling against the cold emptiness in my chest, but I barely noticed. My mind was still screaming, still thrashing against the unseen bonds holding me captive in my own skin.

“Get up,”

Jaax commanded.

His voice slithered through me, thick with power. My body tried to obey before my mind even caught up, before I could dig in my heels and fight the compulsion.

My arms trembled as I pushed against the rough wood, my muscles sluggish, my legs jelly. I barely made it halfway before my limbs collapsed beneath me.

Jaax clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. “Fine.”

His hands locked under my armpits, dragging me upright like I was a limp marionette. I hated the ease of it—the way he handled me like a thing. Like a tool.

Then he turned me. Forced me to face the warehouse.

Where they were.

My friends. My family.

All of them, bound and helpless.

“Burn it,”

Jaax purred against my cheek, his breath thick with amusement, with the giddy cruelty of a cat playing with its food.

"Burn it to the ground.”

A slow, sickening terror curled around my ribs.

“Please,”

I rasped, hating the sound of my own voice. Hating the weakness in it. “No.”

I would rather die. I would rather die.

Jaax hummed, pleased. His lips curled against my ear.

"How lovely the pretty bird sings when her cage grows hot.”

Then his thumb dragged along my bottom lip.

A violent shudder ripped through me, my skin crawling, my entire body revolting at his touch. I jerked away, but his grip only tightened.

Suffocating. Unrelenting.

“I can’t,”

I gasped. My voice trembled, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care. Because it was true—my magic was a wreck, a fractured thing, unpredictable at best.

Jaax chuckled. A slow, dark thing.

“We’ll see about that.”

He dropped to his knees behind me, his arm curling around my waist.

I flinched—a sharp, visceral reaction—but he only pressed closer.

Too close.

The heat of his body against my back sent nausea churning through my stomach. But it was his voice, the vile purr of it against my ear, that made my breath hitch.

“Tell me, Nightshade,”

he murmured, his grip tightening like a vice.

"What is the best way to call to magic?”

I barely heard the words—barely processed the question—because I felt him.

The disgusting, hard evidence of his sick satisfaction pressing against me.

A strangled sound rose in my throat, fury and disgust and fear colliding into something sharp and breathless.

Jaax laughed.

“Go screw yourself,”

I hissed, my breath ragged, my pulse pounding.

"You might have me under your control now, but you won’t be able to keep me forever. Sooner or later, your guard will drop. Your magic will falter.”

I turned my head just enough to meet his eyes, to make him believe it.

And I wanted him to believe it.

Because it wasn’t an empty threat.

It was a promise.

“And when it does,”

I whispered, my voice low, steady, deadly.

"I will gut you like the pig you are. Do you hear me, Jaax? I don’t care if it’s today, tomorrow, a year from now, or a decade. You do this and I will make you suffer.”

“Mmmhhh,”

Jaax hummed, savoring the moment like a man sipping the finest poison.

“Anger. Sweet, hot anger.”

His fingers traced the line of my jaw, tilting my head just enough to bare my throat.

"Yes, anger is powerful. But not the answer I’m looking for.”

His grip tightened.

"Try again.”

“I hate you,”

I spat, the words tasting of blood and venom.

"I will tear out your heart and eat it if that’s the last thing I do.”

Jaax laughed. Pleased. Indulgent.

“Hate,”

he purred.

"Also powerful, but still not the answer.”

I felt him before I saw him move, the slow descent of his mouth toward the nape of my neck. His breath was warm, his presence suffocating. Then—a flicker of heat.

His tongue slid along my skin.

A violent shudder wracked my body, revulsion slamming into me like a battering ram. Every nerve in my body screamed. My stomach roiled, my skin crawled.

I wanted to rip myself out of my own flesh.

“Las Madres have blessed me this night,”

Jaax murmured against my throat, his voice thick with mock reverence.

The audacity.

The sheer, vile audacity.

“First, they sent me a Curador when I so desperately needed one,”

he continued, his lips still too close.

"Then they sent me your lover so I could have the pleasure of killing him.”

Jaax grinned against my pulse.

"And to make it all just so cathartic, they sent me the last Mondragón. So I could get rid of him—once and for all.”

A roar tore from my throat, a sound more animal than human.

"How dare you take Las Madres’ names in vain!”

I howled, thrashing against his hold, but the effort was pointless.

Magic clamped down on me, unseen talons burrowing into my mind, freezing my limbs, locking me inside my own body.

Trapped. Helpless. Enraged.

“I will kill you for this,”

I seethed, forcing the words past clenched teeth. I had to hold on to the hate. Had to.

Because if I let it slip—if I let it crack even an inch—the fear would creep in.

And it would consume me whole.

Jaax chuckled, low and cruel.

"Come on, Nightshade.”

His lips brushed the shell of my ear. It was too much.

"You already know the answer.”

I ground my teeth together, swallowing hard.

“The one thing that almost brought down half a jungle in your wake?”

Ice bloomed in my veins.

My breathing hitched. Fear coiled inside me, slithering through my ribs, creeping into my throat, crushing my windpipe.

“That’s it.”

Jaax’s smile widened. “Fear.”

His arms tightened around me, his magic thickening, tightening.

“Fear is the primary method most Bruja discover their powers.”

He sounded so pleased with himself. Like a professor praising a student for solving a difficult equation.

"Fear is a powerful thing.”

His breath brushed my cheek.

"Don’t ever forget that fear has the power to paralyze even the strongest of people.”

His fingers dug into my waist.

"Look at you.”

His voice dropped to a whisper, almost gentle. Mocking.

"You’re a perfect example of that.”

I barely heard him.

I barely felt anything at all.

Because my eyes had locked on the warehouse.

The warehouse where my friends were still trapped.

I could see through it. Not with magic. Not with power. But with the terrible, gut-wrenching clarity of knowing.

I could see them, huddled inside. Malakai. Dom. Elías. Lian. Kerun. Xixi.

Bound. Bleeding. Waiting.

I knew what was coming.

And no matter how hard I fought, no matter how much I screamed inside my own skull—

I could do nothing to stop it.

I pictured Malakai’s smile.

The mischievous lilt to his lips, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, how it made the whole world feel lighter. Safer.

I pictured Dom, his rare but brilliant smiles, the deep brown of his eyes, his rich, steady presence that had anchored me more times than I was willing to admit. He never laughed easily, but when he did, even the air seemed to laugh with him.

I saw Lian and Elías, their kindness, their unwavering loyalty. The way Lian always found the silver lining, the way Elías made things feel possible even when they weren’t.

And then there was Kerun.

Kerun, with his wide, mischievous eyes, a storm of emotions always brewing in his gaze. And his admiration. For me. Always for me.

Even when I didn’t deserve it.

I choked on a sob, squeezing my eyes shut as something inside me stirred.

NO NO NO NO!!!

It clawed against my ribs, against my spine, ripping itself awake against my will.

It was a disgusting feeling, a violation that sank deeper than hands. Deeper than Jaax’s touch.

This was worse.

This was the worst of all.

Jaax’s Mentedor magic poured into me like a slow, insidious rot, slipping through my veins, seeping into the marrow of my bones, plunging deep, deep, past flesh, past thought—into the very fabric of me.

Into my magic.

My Fuegador fire.

And it answered.

Against my will. Against everything I was.

Jaax chuckled, his breath hot against my ear, relishing the way I trembled, the way I fought uselessly against the inevitable. He was inside me. Twisting. Forcing. Commanding.

He lifted my hand like I was a puppet, my muscles obeying him, not me.

A flame bloomed in my palm.

It started small, a flickering ember. Then it grew. Bigger. Hotter. Hungrier.

My eyes widened in terror.

It was then that I knew.

I knew what he was going to make me do.

Jaax cackled.

"Say goodbye.”

The fire in my hand surged forward.

I watched it leave my fingertips, helpless as it hurtled toward the warehouse.

It moved slowly.

Too slowly.

Like the world was making me watch.

Like the goddesses wanted me to see.

A tear rolled down my cheek, burning hot, vanishing into the heat rising from my own hands.

The fireball arced through the air, a searing sun against the night.

My heart burned with it.

Because I knew what was inside.

Malakai.

The love of my life.

Dom.

My brother. The only family I had left.

Lian. Elías. Kerun.

My friends. The only people who ever truly accepted me.

The people who came for me anyway.

The explosion shattered the world.

A deafening roar of fire and splintered wood. A storm of ash and ruin. And my own magic—

My own hands—

Had destroyed everything I ever loved.