The Girl with the Fire Heart
Chapter 48

Damon stares back at her, his eyes full of both worry and vengeance. He doesn’t say a word. He simply nods his head and Valentina heads back into her bedroom, determination filling her. The world has always made her feel like she was something to be feared. Now, she was going to give them every reason to fear her.

Damon makes his way back to his room. He feels the weight of Brielle’s death on his shoulders and the weight of Valentina’s grief deep in his chest. He had been woken up by Mr. Brown long before the sun had come up. The messenger had made it there and back in record time, which was saying something considering it took him and Valentina two days to get here from their kingdom.

He’d bolted out of his room into the main house and ran down the stairs into the study so fast, he still doesn’t know how quickly he got there without hurting himself. The messenger was crying when he made his way in and he prayed it wasn’t Jonah or Yasmin that had been injured or killed. Somehow, it seemed far worse that it was Brielle who was dead.

He blinks away the tears forming in his eyes at the memory of Valentina’s grief and looks up to find his valet in his room. He only just realizes that he entered his bedroom. The valet looks at him with pity and for a second, Damon can only think about what it would feel like to punch this man in the face. It’s not his valet’s fault and yet the rage that simmers under the surface of his barely there composure surprises him.

He shakes himself out of his daze, and struggles to focus through getting ready for the blessing ceremony. He’s ready just as the sun begins to set. He hears a knock at the bedroom door, and Damon doesn’t know when he closed it. He touches his temple lightly with the tips of his fingers, feeling a slight desperation in him at losing time and not wanting to.

He makes his way over to the door, his feet slightly dragging against the carpet. He opens it to find Mr. Brown standing on the other side, his face just as grim as it was this morning.

“Sir, Miss Valentina is ready,” Mr. Brown says, his voice gruff when he says Valentina’s name.

Damon nods, allowing his valet to finish dressing him before he exits the room and accompanies Mr. Brown down the hall to the wings double doors. Mr. Brown holds the door open while Damon steps over the threshold and when he sees Valentina standing on the other side of the hallway, his breath catches at the sight of her.

Per custom, guests attending a blessing ceremony were required to wear elaborate ball gowns and tailcoat tuxedos. The women wore princess style ball gowns with sequins and feathers and exaggerated designs while the men were more subdued. Damon always found the women to be mildly entertaining as each year they tried to outdo one another, wearing their heart types colors.

But standing here, in his deep blue tailcoat tuxedo, he sees that Valentina is wearing an A-line black dress with a sweeping train. He sees the deep sweetheart neckline that dips so close to the middle of her stomach, he has to forcibly drag his eyes away. The dress is sleeveless, bringing attention to the way her neck extends. The dress has small clusters of sequins that are made to look like bursts of flames, from the top of the skirt portion all the way to the trailing bottom. But the most revealing part of the dress is the long slit that goes up the right side of the dress, coming to almost the top of her thigh. Adorning her feet are black stilettos with a strap that covers the front of her foot and her ankle. She wears earrings that have three distinct lines of diamonds draping down. Her eyes are tinted with a dark brown that has some mild glitter on her lids. Damon’s eyes focus on her deep red lips.

She is a vision. And Damon knows she is out for blood. He takes a tentative step closer, torn between locking themselves in this house until her grief has passed and going to the blessing ceremony with the scent of revenge in the air.

But Damon is caught by surprise when he reaches for her left hand and feels the engagement ring still wrapped around her finger. The tightness in his muscles dissipates just a little at the feel of his ring on her finger. He only hopes the weight of it will remind her of who she is, even through the loss of her best friend.

He releases her left hand, reaching up to touch the long necklace her fire is contained in and cups it in his palm. His eyes are solely focused on the flames burning brighter and hotter than it ever has in the time he has known her. Damon feels Valentina’s hand against his own, and he tears his eyes away and looks at her.

“Damon,” she says, his name a plea and a demand rolled into one. “Whatever happens tonight, do not get in my way.”

Damon’s muscles tighten once more. He begrudgingly nods, knowing there is no conceivable way he will be able to talk her out of whatever she has planned. He lets go of her necklace and interlocks their hands. Together, they make their way down the grand staircase and a part of him wonders if this will be the last time. The water in his necklace whirls around at the thought.

Outside of the house is the same carriage they used the night of the celebratory ball and it seems almost fitting for their circumstance. Damon and Valentina climb into the carriage, just the two of them. They sit across from one another. The carriage takes off and it’s only a few moments before Damon speaks.

“You look…,” Damon lets his statement trail off. There aren’t any words to describe just how beautiful she looks.

Valentina gives him a small, bashful smile but remains silent. Damon racks his brain for something to say but everything he wants to say feels inadequate to their current situation. Valentina turns her head to look out of the small window before speaking up.

“Would you do it?” she asks.

“Do what?” Damon asks back.

“Would you kill the person who killed your person?” Valentina says, softly but pointedly.

Damon just looks at her. He wants to tell her no, he wants to lie to her to stop this revenge plan from ever happening, but he can’t. He answers honestly.

“Yes, I would,” he tells her.

She nods her head, keeping her face turned towards the outside.

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