We Set the Dark on Fire (We Set the Dark on Fire, #1)(12)



He settled the cloth over his shoulders before reaching out. Carmen and Dani moved closer, the strange electricity of bodies in proximity sparking between them. Dani’s shoulders touched first Mateo’s, then Carmen’s, before the cloth was around them all.

She tried to lose herself in the colors. The clarity and purpose of the blue, the shadowy secrets of the black. Punctuating it all, the harsh, unyielding edge of the silver.

It’s almost over, Dani thought, a jolt of panic racing through her veins. She had hoped to feel some camaraderie with her new husband before they stepped off the stage. Some indication that her mama had been right about her ability to build a life she loved.

But Mateo had barely looked at her. Carmen Santos of all people was standing beside them. This wasn’t at all what she had been expecting.

“Ladies, thank you both so much,” Mateo said, in a voice that sounded rehearsed. “In return, I promise to be a faithful, dedicated husband to you both. To provide for us all. It’s my pleasure to formally welcome you both to the Garcia family. May we prosper.”

The Garcia family motto.

“May we prosper,” Dani and Carmen replied together.

And then there was a pen in Dani’s hand, gold and too heavy. There were more eligible bachelors waiting for their turn, and Dani grasped for her mama’s words. For anything that would make this moment feel less like the death of something.

But nothing came. There was only Dani, and this cold, strange family that was nothing like her own, and the promise she’d made to take this better life and never look back.

Mateo signed, his handwriting made up of sharp, angular lines that pressed deep into the paper. Carmen was next, with an ostentatious flourish that said absolutely everything about her. They both looked at Dani, who moved precisely. Carefully. Like an expensive instrument unfolding.

And wasn’t she?

The paper disappeared from beneath her hands the moment her name was signed. The headmatron was preparing to call the next name. Mateo was already pushing the door open, Carmen not far behind.

A dangerous feeling was welling up inside Dani, as if her duty and her desire were clawing at each other and the victor hadn’t yet been decided. The cool air on her face whispered that it wasn’t too late. That she could run into the trees and never look back. The darkness at the edges of the courtyard seemed full of ominous whispers. Her chest felt heavy, her movements too slow.

What would they say in Polvo if you returned empty-handed? a small, malicious voice asked as she stood poised at the edge of the darkness. Perfect, brilliant Dani, off to save her family and do things the rest of them only dreamed of doing.

Her heartbeat slowed. The urge to run dissipated, leaving a sad weight in its wake. No one in Polvo would ever understand if she returned. It wouldn’t be the same as it was before. That version of her was dead. This was the only way forward.

And there were Carmen and Mateo, leaning toward each other beneath a glowing lantern. There was an instant intimacy and spark between them that Dani almost envied. Carmen was making a life she loved, or a life that loved her, at least. If this was Dani’s life—if there was truly no going back—she had to do the same.

“Oh, here we go,” said Carmen under her breath as Dani approached. “Mateo was just leaving.”

“Yes, of course,” said Dani, more to Mateo than to Carmen. “Well, se?or, we’ll see you . . . tomorrow, then.”

But Mateo was bored again. Dani had been awkward and formal where Carmen was alluring, her posture flattering him even without words.

“Mhm,” he said. “I suppose you will.”

Carmen’s smirk was poison.

“My madres will be here in the morning to retrieve you,” Mateo said, nodding to Dani and kissing Carmen on the cheek. “Until then.”

Once he left, Dani felt like she had just sold her most valuable possession for a handful of dried beans. She wanted to chase after him, force him to acknowledge the hard work she’d done to reach this moment, the life she’d never know because she’d chosen his.

But of course, that wasn’t behavior befitting a Primera, so she just watched him walk away, ashamed of the burning sensation that started behind her eyes and traveled down her throat, leaving a red-hot ember in the center of her chest.

“Really?” asked Carmen. “Isn’t don’t cry, like, the only thing in the whole Primera handbook?”

Her laugh was humorless and mocking as usual, but tonight Dani was armorless. It went right through her, into that empty space where her sudden hope of running home had been, before she’d realized she had no home to run to.

“Get it together,” Carmen said, a shimmer of gold departing the edge of Dani’s blurred vision. “Your professionalism—or lack thereof—reflects on all of us now.”

Once she was alone, Dani felt untethered. When was the last time she’d truly felt like she had a purpose beyond reaching this moment? Making her parents and Polvo proud?

Without warning, her memory conjured Sota and the oratory broom closet. He was an enemy, a member of the ruthless resistance group hell-bent on bringing to the forefront exactly what Dani had always fought to keep in the dark. But when he looked at her, there had been something in his eyes. Something that made her feel strange and, yes, purposeful. Scared, and a little proud.

She spent the whole walk back to her dormitory burying that dangerous thought. If she was lucky, she thought as she drifted off to sleep, she would never see Sota again.

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