We will not fulfill any book request that does not come through the book request page or does not follow the rules of requesting books. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Comments are manually approved by us. Thus, if you don't see your comment immediately after leaving a comment, understand that it is held for moderation. There is no need to submit another comment. Even that will be put in the moderation queue.

Please avoid leaving disrespectful comments towards other users/readers. Those who use such cheap and derogatory language will have their comments deleted. Repeat offenders will be blocked from accessing this website (and its sister site). This instruction specifically applies to those who think they are too smart. Behave or be set aside!

Powerless (The Powerless Trilogy): Chapter 28

Kai

It’s been three days since a wolf took a bite out of me. Three days since Paedyn put her hands on me after I told her to only do so if she wanted to. And I don’t think I’ve been able to catch my breath since. Every time she looks at me, I feel like I’m gasping for air. I hate it.

Liar.

It’s been three long and boring days. The most profitable thing we’ve managed to do is find a shirt for me to wear—another gift left for the contestants. The creek and small circle clearing around it has become our base, though we don’t spend much time there during the day. Our riveting routine consists of splitting up into the forest and scouting for any other opponents. And yet, our efforts to collect more bands have not only been futile but also unbearably boring. I’d rather not split up, simply because I’m far more entertained when Paedyn is with me, but she insisted that we’d cover more ground separately.

A lot of good it’s done us so far.

The sun is sinking rapidly, and stars splatter the sky as it begins to disappear for the night. I trudge back towards the camp, taking out my frustration on the plants littering my path by slicing them with my sword as I walk.

Nothing. Neither of us has come across another opponent yet. The only things we’ve managed to find are snakes and lots of them. Those, along with coyotes, have been the only visitors we’ve had to fight off as of late.

I hear the bubbling creek before I even see it. The small clearing comes into view and so does Paedyn. She sits on a stump, twisting that thick, silver ring on her thumb as she stares blankly at the fire, her hair blowing in the soft breeze.

I grab some kindling and make my way over, throwing it on the fire before sitting down on a stump across from her. “Well, I don’t see any fresh wounds, so no luck, I’m assuming?”

“I’m offended that you think I couldn’t come out of a fight unscathed.” After giving her a skeptical look, she finally grumbles, “No. No luck today.”

I watch her closely, assessing how she bites the inside of her cheek, spins the steel on her thumb, bounces her leg.

She’s a mess of pent-up energy, anxiety eating away at her. But I let her think, giving her time before I pry for answers on what it is that has her so tense. So we sit in silence, me gnawing on stringy rabbit while Paedyn gnaws on the inside of her cheek.

The sun has dipped to the horizon, painting the sky with deep oranges and soft pinks when I finally break the silence with a sigh. “All right, what’s wrong? Out with it.”

“Hmm?” She looks up from the fire, meeting my gaze before deciding that the flames are more interesting to look at. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

I almost laugh. I’ve learned the hard way that those are words you never want to hear a woman say to you, and it’s obvious that she is anything but fine. I stoke the fire as I sigh, “You’re a horrible liar, Gray.”

She finally dares to look in my direction. And then she’s laughing loudly. I hold my breath, watching the way her head tips towards the sky, her silver hair cascades down her back, her eyes crinkle with amusement. She looks back at me too quickly, and I hope I’ve wiped the look of wanting from my face fast enough.

She’s so stunning, yet so stubbornly oblivious to how the sunset behind dulls in comparison to the vibrance that is her.

What the hell is wrong with me.

“I’ll have you know that I am a great liar.” She can barely say the words without snorting like she’s told a joke, and I’ve missed the punchline.

“Hmm.” I pop a piece of meat into my mouth. “I’m going to have to disagree.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really.”

She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Enlighten me, prince.”

Good. Let me distract you.

My lips twitch into a smile. “You have a tell, darling.”

“Do not.” She’s not laughing anymore and I almost regret saying anything at all.

“You tap your left foot when you lie, ever so slightly.” She gapes and I grin. “I started noticing it when you said you hated my dimples. And obviously, we both know that is a lie.”

I duck before the rock she throws at me can connect with my skull. Now I’m the one laughing. She turns her attention back towards the fire, fighting her smile. “I didn’t realize you had watched me so closely.”

“Watched? Darling, I’ve never stopped.” She meets my gaze as an emotion I can’t place ripples in those ocean eyes of hers.

And there she goes again, spinning that silver ring on her thumb.

Interesting.

“Why are you really doing this?” Her words cut through my thoughts, and I look at her, though her own gaze is now fixed on the flames in front of us. “Why didn’t you just take my leather and leave me?”

I hear her unspoken words echoing in my head.

Leave me to die.

She looks at me then, her eyes flooded with emotions. She wants an answer, needs an answer as to why I didn’t act like the monster I’ve been molded into.

I open my mouth, expecting a good answer to fall out. Wishful thinking, I suppose, because I sigh and say, “You know, we never got to finish our dance.”

She blinks at me. “That wasn’t an answer.”

“That’s because we haven’t danced yet. You should know how this works by now, Gray. We dance, you get your answer. Or we don’t and, well, you’ll be left to ponder all your burning questions about me.”

She huffs out a laugh. “You’re kidding. Not this again.”

“Yes, this again.” I stand to my feet and walk over to where she sits on her stump. “So,” I hold out my hand to her with a lazy bow, “are we dancing or not, Gray?”

She rolls her eyes, trying to fight the smile that’s tugging at her lips. “Fine.” She lays her palm on my own and the mere contact has my pulse quickening.

What has this girl done to me?

We take a few steps away from the fire, the pale moonlight beaming and the stars twinkling. I guide her hand onto my shoulder and take the other to hold, careful not to strain her stitches. My other hand finds her waist, wrapping my arm around her back to pull her close. She feels so familiar in my arms, and I drink in every detail, memorize every movement.

We begin stepping in time to nothing but the sound of our own heartbeats and the crickets chirping around us. We’re swallowed in darkness, mere shadows in the flickering firelight.

“There’s no music,” she says flatly, her voice laced with amusement.

“Well then I guess we won’t know when to stop dancing. How unfortunate.” My chin brushes the top of her head before I dip her towards the ground, making her gasp in surprise.

“Don’t tempt me to stomp on your toes,” she threatens breathlessly.

I raise her back up slowly as I say, “Oh, we can’t have that. I’m still recovering from the last time we danced.”

We’re quiet for a moment, listening to the crunch of twigs beneath our feet and the crackling of the fire. Through her thin and battered tank, I can feel the heat of her body, feel her skin beneath my hand.

Distracting.

Her voice is quiet when she breaks the silence, as if almost reluctant to interrupt the moment. “So, the answer to my question?”

Right. That.

“Is it really so shocking that I don’t want you to die?” I lean back slightly so I can meet her eyes. “So shocking that I would help someone?”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

I almost laugh. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“It’s just that,” she pauses, her eyes flitting between mine as if searching for the answer in them, “I thought you were more like your father.”

Her words slam into me. Father is…well, he is a king. He’s cold and strict and very rarely impressed, even with his own sons. I suppose in some ways he’s made me to be like him, schooled me on how to act, what to feel, and more importantly, what not to feel. Thanks to him, I’ve crafted a jumble of different masks that I can slip on and off at will.

I’m a mess. A mess of muffled emotions and well-built walls.

But because I don’t quite know the answer to her question myself, I ask her one of my own. “Is that why you hate me so much? Because you thought I was like my father who you clearly don’t care for?”

“I don’t hate you,” she answers too quickly, pausing to wonder if she’s said the right thing while I wonder why she hasn’t said it sooner.

My smile is crooked. “Oh, you don’t hate me? So, what, every threat on my life is a declaration of love, then?”

“I said I don’t hate you, prince. That doesn’t mean I don’t despise you.”

I duck my head, eyes searching hers. “I think you despise that you don’t despise me.” Her mouth falls open before she snaps it shut and fixes me with a glare. I seem to have rendered her speechless.

Well, that’s a first.

“Use your words, Gray.” I smile, spinning her before pulling her back to me. “Tell me, am I wrong?”

“I thought I was the one asking you the questions?” she says, distracting and diverting my attention with that devastating smile and deliberate words.

And she thinks I’m the calculating one.

She looks away from me, biting the inside of her cheek before meeting my gaze again. “Would you have helped one of the others?” A pause. “Someone other than Jax or Andy?”

Someone other than the few people I truly care about.

A slow smile spreads across my face. “Darling, I doubt that the sight of someone dying would affect me as much as you do alive and well.”

She swallows. “You’re a shameless flirt, Azer.”

“Only for you.”

“Hmm. Now it seems you’re also a shameless liar.”

I huff out a quiet laugh before saying, “My turn to ask a question.” She opens her mouth, most likely to argue, but I cut her off. “So, out of all the people roaming around Loot that day, why was I fortunate enough to be robbed blind?”

Her mouth snaps shut before splitting into a smile. “You fit a description.”

“A description?”

Her smile is anything but sweet. “Yes. You looked cocky and chalked full of coins. Those are my favorite targets.”

I lean closer towards her. “Well, this target knew you stole from him.”

“You knew I stole from you too late.”

“Funny, I seem to remember that I caught you not shortly after.”

Her smile is smug. “Only because I came back and saved you.” Then she laughs. “So, what, you don’t think I could steal from you again without you noticing?”

“I think that I notice everything you do. So, no.”

She pauses, her face close to mine, momentarily stunned by my words. I smile, enjoying the sight of her flustered. Her next words are soft, slow. “Is that a challenge, Azer?”

“It’s a fact, Gray.”

“Is it?” she says, suddenly dangling something between our faces. “That’s interesting, because I nicked this off you almost immediately after we started dancing.”

I squint in the dim light, swearing under my breath when I realize what it is that she’s holding. Braxton’s leather strap, once safe in my pocket, is now pinched between her fingers and swinging in front of my face.

“I’m impressed, Gray.” I shrug casually before adding, “I’m mostly shocked I didn’t notice with how closely I pay attention to you.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Distraction.”

My gaze sweeps over her quickly before returning to that smile. “You are quite good at that, aren’t you?”

She’s quiet as she watches me closely before looking away. I avert my gaze too, preparing myself for another one of her prying questions.

“What’s your favorite color?”

My eyes snap to hers. “What?” I nearly choke on my laughter.

“You’re favorite color. What is it?”

For once, I almost step on her toes out of shock and sheer wonder. “Of all the things you could ask me, you ask what my favorite color is?” I can’t keep the smile from spreading across my face.

She blows a strand of hair from her eyes in annoyance. “I feel like I don’t know many things about you, so I figured I’d start with the basics.” An amused sigh. “I’m letting you off the hook with an easy question, so don’t disappoint. What is your favorite color?”

I spin her if only to give myself some time to think. I’d never thought about what my favorite color was before. It never seemed important.

Not until I looked into a pair of ocean blue eyes and realized that perhaps drowning was a beautiful thing.

Not until I looked into a pair of fiery blue eyes and realized that perhaps burning was a painless thing.

Not until I looked into a pair of sky-blue eyes and realized that perhaps falling was a peaceful thing.

I’d never thought about what my favorite color was before because I hadn’t seen one that was worthy of the title. Until now, that is.

“Blue,” I say, my voice low.

“Hmm.” She’s looking at me thoughtfully, studying me sincerely. “I would have never guessed.”

Neither would I.

“And yours?” I ask, watching her as she thinks.

She opens her mouth and then shuts it, considering something. Her jaw sets. “I don’t have one.” With a small shrug, she asks, “Favorite food or dessert?”

“We’re in the middle of a Trial, and you’re asking me about my favorite food?”

She ignores me. “Well, I know it’s not rabbit. I see the way your mouth twists when you eat it—”

“I do not twist—” I pause, grinning. “Have you been looking at my mouth, Gray?”

She opens her own mouth to argue only to huff instead. “Just answer the damn question, Azer.”

I chuckle and spin her slowly. “Easy. Lemon tarts.”

She snorts. “You’re kidding. Lemon tarts? You’re a rich prince who could have any food he wants, and you would choose lemon tarts?”

“Yes, lemon tarts,” I mimic. “And now I’m making you eat some with me when we finally get out of here.”

“Over my dead body.”

My smile is wicked. “That can be arranged.”

And there she goes, making good on her threat to stomp on my toes, seeing that her feet are her only weapon at the moment. “Oops.”

“Vicious, little thing,” I murmur under my breath.

“You don’t know the half of it, prince.”

“Oh, but I hope one day I will.”

We are silent for a moment, studying each other before I finally say, “Tell me, what’s your favorite food then, since you seem to think it’s so much better than lemon tarts?”

“Oh, trust me when I say that it is far better than lemon tarts.”

“Well don’t keep me guessing, Gray.”

She tilts her head up towards mine as she confidently says, “Butterscotch.”

“Butterscotch,” I repeat, committing the information to memory.

“Yes.” She smiles, but I see the sadness in it. “My father used to give out the candy to his patients. And every time he would fix up one of my wounds, or I would help fix up someone else’s, we would eat butterscotch after as a sort of reward.”

We are quiet for a moment. “You two were very close.”

“We were,” she states. “But you and your father aren’t, are you? Not after what he’s put you through.”

I’m thankful for the lack of pity in her voice, though her disgust is clear. A quiet, bitter laugh escapes me. “No. I’m more soldier than son, and he’s more king than Father. It’s hard to be close when our only time spent together was training, and I didn’t exactly look forward to those encounters.”

“And your mother?” she asks quietly.

“She’s everything I could have asked for,” I state simply. “Everything I needed as a boy. She’s been one of the only constants in my life, a source of kindness and caring.”

“And yet,” Paedyn says hesitantly, “she let your father do what he did?”

I pause, speaking to her even as I remind myself. “She didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter. And becoming the future Enforcer is my duty, no matter the methods it takes to get there.”

She eyes me with that expression I can never quite seem to place. Is it wonder? Confusion? One moment she’s an open book, and then the next, I can barely crack the spine.

And then she’s peppering me with questions. Most of them random, though all are deemed equally important to her. She tells me stories of growing up, and I do the same, listening to her laugh at Kitt and I’s stupidity.

“So, tell me about the split lip you had when we met?” I ask, brows raised.

She laughs and the sound snakes up my spine. “I wasn’t lying when I told you that it was a gift from one of your Imperials.”

“Right. You informed me of that when you had your dagger to my throat, I believe?”

“Sounds about right.”

“Well, I’m still unaware of the details behind how you earned it.” My eyes darken at the thought. “I don’t react kindly to my Imperials hitting women.”

“Oh? Then you should probably know that this wasn’t the first time.” Her words are casual, blunt. “Long story short, he didn’t believe I was a Psychic, so I proved it to him. And clearly, he didn’t like what I had to say.”

I stare at her in disbelief. “And, what, you just took the hit?”

“Yes, but not before I took some of his pride.”

“Why am I not surprised by that?”

She gives me a sly smile. “Probably because you’ve gotten so used to me humbling you, prince.”

“That I have.” I pause, taking her in. “You never cease to amaze me, Gray.” I smirk as I release her hand to flick the tip of her nose lightly.

She bats my fingers away with a huff. “And you never cease to annoy me.”

I grab her hand again and guide it up my arm until both of her palms rest on my shoulders. Then I slip my hands around her waist and behind her back, careful of her injured side as I pull her closer.

And then we just sway.

No fancy footwork, no waltz to step in time to. Just us, in the middle of a forest, surrounded by thousands of winking stars. Her lashes flutter, and then her fingers are laced behind my neck.

The tension between us pulls taut, like an invisible tether connecting the two of us. My pulse quickens and so does her breathing, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I never cease to annoy you, huh?” I watch her face while pulling her impossibly closer. “What about know. Is this the exception?”

She swallows and dips her head, not offering me an answer. I smile slightly as I try to get her to speak, a problem I’ve never had to deal with before. “Pae?”

Still no answer.

My fingers catch her chin, gently guiding her gaze to meet mine. There is confusion etched all over her face as she lets out a shaky laugh. “I’m annoyed that I’m not finding this annoying.”

My hand tightens around her waist like it might catch fire from the feel of her. I’m embarrassed by how much this one girl engrosses me, afraid of how affected I am. It makes me feel equally weak and wonderful. Alarmed yet alive.

“Why didn’t you shoot me, Paedyn?”

The question tumbles out of my mouth, curious and quiet. She tilts her head, studying me. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, Azer.”

Deflecting.

I crack a smile, knowing that she is aware of what I’m referring to. “You could have shot me a few days ago but you fired at the ground. I want to know why.”

She pauses, pondering her answer. Then her eyes are pinned on mine. “Just because I was doomed for death doesn’t mean I wanted to damn you as well.” Her eyes roam over me, and I relish the feel of her gaze.

And then she pulls away.

Her hands are back on my shoulders, stiff and stubbornly unmoving. Then her eyes are on the sky, choosing to stare at the stars rather than me. She sighs through her nose, silently collecting herself.

And I’m doing the same, trying to pull myself together after she pulled away.

Yes, we are opponents. Yes, I am the future Enforcer. Yes, I’m a killer that has no right to want to keep her. But there is something else, something that has her refusing to admit this confusing connection we share.

Plagues, I’m pissed that I admitted it to myself.

My masks are still at the ready, my walls still in place, but she is slowly breaking down both my facades and fortresses. And I’m suddenly angry at myself for allowing it. For allowing myself to care. For allowing myself to think of her in any way other than my competition.

Because she’s made it clear that that is all I am to her.

“Kai,” she says quietly, the sound of my name on her lips ripping me from my thoughts. “I—”

A soft, female voice cuts through her words. “Sorry to interrupt, but you both have something I need.”


Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Options

not work with dark mode
Reset