Powerless trilogy 3 fear.., p.2
Powerless Trilogy 3: Fearless, page 2
part #3 of Powerless Trilogy Series
So, I let him raise my left hand between us. Let him see the willingness that smothers every worry. It is my turn to become the difference I always dreamed of being, even if the king’s reasonings do not resemble my own. He wishes only to salvage this kingdom by whatever means possible, while I offer him my hand for a united Ilya alone.
I am the sacrifice that Ordinaries have bled and died for.
I am the power they lack.
The ring trembles around my broken nail. His eyes flick to mine in quiet permission.
Every moment of my life has built up to this one. This one fleeting second of bravery.
I nod, and he pushes the ring down the length of my finger.
CHAPTER 2 Kai
I thought I’d known torment until it wrapped around her finger.
No, torment is tangible, and it gleams atop her tanned skin.
I stare, unblinking, at the symbol my brother slid onto her finger. It is binding. It is infinite. It is my undoing.
A laugh threatens to slip past my numb lips. It’s not as though she hadn’t promised to be my ruin, hadn’t already become my demise. She is the single most destructive thing I have ever desired, and yet, it is the diamond on her finger that will destroy me.
I watch Paedyn through the gaps of a gawking crowd, just as I will for the rest of my life. I’ll be forced to spend my days at her service but never at her side. In her shadow but never truly seen. In love with a girl I’d have bowed to long before she became my queen.
Kitt steps aside, allowing the court full view of his betrothed. Short hair whispers atop her shoulders with each slow turn of her head. Silver meets tanned skin, gliding across the scar trailing her neck until the torn skin gleams like the sharp end of a blade. Her blue eyes cut through the crowd, searching and swift and so unsure.
I step behind one of the many marble pillars framing the room, avoiding her piercing gaze for perhaps the first time. I’ve been nothing but willing when it comes to drowning in those ocean eyes. But now, I can’t fathom drowning if she is not the anchor I’m sinking with.
Questions fly around the room, each one teetering on an accusation. I blend into the chaos, listening as the court voices my very own confusion. Because this was the last decree I ever thought would form on Kitt’s lips. And he hadn’t even bothered to inform me of it.
I roll my neck, practically feeling that indifferent mask of the Enforcer melting away from the rage simmering beneath. The abilities of every person in this room begin to press down on me, begging to be unleashed. Anger is too dangerous an emotion to let myself feel. It dulls my senses and heightens my Wielder ability until all I know is the power pulsing beneath my skin.
But I have no one to blame but myself. I did this to her, to us, to each moment I spent hoping she would be the center of every one to follow.
I am the monster who hunted her down. I am the beast who delivered her to this doom. And I am afraid I’ll become so much worse when I’m no longer striving to deserve her.
A man shouts beside my ear, waving a hand so obnoxiously that I contemplate breaking it. Better yet, maybe I’ll borrow his Blazer ability and singe that wagging tongue from his mouth.
Fortunately for the man, Kitt’s voice swells over the echoing shouts before I get the chance to do anything rash. “I will answer all your questions in a formal meeting to come. Following that, we will announce our engagement to the surrounding kingdoms.”
Engagement.
It feels as though the ground is caving in beneath me. Why couldn’t we have just stayed in that field of poppies? I would spend the rest of my days making her flower crowns if she wanted to be a queen. My queen. Not Kitt’s. Not Ilya’s. Mine.
My eyes trace over her, tracking each movement. Kitt dismisses the court, quieting every conversation with a wave of his hand. In that moment, that single movement, I see our father. It’s as though he is the one standing before this court, and Kitt is nothing more than his shadow.
This king is not the same one I left a fortnight ago.
This king is collected and calm and conscious of every move he makes.
But just as it always does, my gaze trails back to Paedyn. She is making her way across the room now, spine stiff and eyes straight ahead, fixed on the maid awaiting her beside the towering doors still several yards away. Sneers follow her every step as she strides through the crowd. Dozens of disgusted faces close in on her, growing bolder by the second. And I’m already moving before a man steps into her path.
He leans close enough to subtly mutter his vile comment, but the spittle flying from his mouth to splatter her freckles doesn’t go unnoticed. I shove the man away from her so forcefully that I vaguely wonder whether I let a Brawny ability slip to the surface. The reckless action has me suddenly standing between Paedyn and the man who so clearly has a death wish. Stepping forward, I tower over him, ignoring the gasping crowd surrounding the scene I’ve made. Because the truth is, I don’t give a damn about what this court thinks of me. And my reputation sure as hell can’t get any worse.
“So much as breathe on her again,” I snarl, “and I’ll ensure it’s the last time you ever do.”
“No.”
Her voice cuts through every crazed thought, washing over me as though relief itself is nothing more than the mere presence of her. Paedyn steps beside me, her gaze unwaveringly set on the now ghostly pale man. “No,” she repeats, voice lethal. “I will be the one to ensure that the next breath you take to insult me, or my people, will be the very last one you ever taste. And it will be me, an Ordinary, that ends your Elite life.”
She stares at him, looking as though formidability is woven into the very fiber of her being. My ears ring in the sudden silence smothering the throne room. Every eye is pinned on her, every jaw slackened by her words.
My future queen has just made her first decree.
* * *
That damn ring is going to slip off her finger with how terribly her hands are shaking.
I follow her out the double doors, fleeing the stifling throne room and gossiping court within. She quickens her pace down the plush halls, and I can only imagine how out of place we look among the emerald embellishments. The Enforcer—half-naked and wrapped in bandages—and the king’s betrothed—bloody and dipped in a layer of grime.
“Paedyn,” I call, lengthening my strides.
That only has her skidding around another corner. I sigh, trying again. “Pae, wait.”
She stops, suddenly. Shakily. Even at my distance, I see her shoulders tremble, hear the shuddering of her breath. She braces a steadying hand against the wall, and I’m about to call out again when a swarm of people spill into the hallway behind.
Shit.
I need to think fast, need to get Paedyn out of here before the entire court finds their future queen gasping for air in the hallway. Plague knows they would credit her panic to her weakened, Ordinary blood.
My eyes land on a door occupying the same wall Paedyn is currently slumped against before doing the only thing I can think of.
“All right, up you go,” I murmur before scooping her legs into my arms and slinging the rest of her over my shoulder.
This manages to get her attention. It’s as though I’ve awakened a slumbering beast. “What the hell—?” She wriggles in my hold, nails biting into the bare skin of my back. “Put. Me. Down.”
I head for the door, a flood of voices following. “Tempting, but I’m a bit busy saving your ass at the moment.” She can’t see the smirk that twitches my lips, but I’m sure she hears it in my voice when I add, “Speaking of ass, how’s the view back there, Gray?”
“Nauseating,” she bites out.
I whip open the door and step inside. “You know I can see your left foot twitch, yes?”
She grumbles incoherently in response to her betraying limb before nearly smacking her lolling head against the door I close.
Darkness swallows every inch of the small space.
I set her gently on the floor before me, feeling her breath tickle my heated skin. My hands linger over the shape of her. Calluses catch on the thin fabric of her shirt, dragging it up as my palms slide over her hips. I can’t see the shape of her in this pressing darkness, so I’ll simply have to settle with feeling every inch of it.
Her voice is breathy in a way that has me gripping her tighter. “Where are we?”
“Likely a forgotten broom closet,” I mutter. “Couldn’t have the entire court seeing their future queen in shambles, now, could we?”
The words were intended to tease, but they tear through my teeth, biting and bitter. And I regret them the moment I feel her body tremble beneath my hands. “Hey,” I amend gently, pulling at the hem of her shirt until she stumbles against me. “Talk to me.”
I can feel each thundering beat of her heart against my chest. And just like that, the distraction I’d created for her dissolves. She’s crumbling again, her voice cracking as her composed facade does the same. “I… I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this.” I feel each vigorous shake of her head. “I was ready to die. I was ready for you to be the last thing I saw and now—”
“Don’t say that,” I choke out, cutting her off before any more of my fears can escape her mouth. “I would have never let that happen. I promised to fix this, and I will.”
“Fix this?” Her laugh is little more than a rasp. “Kai, this is no longer a matter of life or death. This is…” When her breath catches, I know it is the ring she runs trembling fingers over. “This is until death do us part.”
There’s that anger again, washing over me in waves. Because she was meant to be the death of me, not the life of another. It was her I was meant to adore in this world and crawl to in the one after. But now she’s tethered to a king, and I am nothing more than her killer.
I fumble for her hands, desperate to hold on to her for as long as I can. “Focus on this ring,” I urge, spinning the band on her thumb. “Your father’s, not my brother’s. Until I figure this out, spin it like you always do. Distract yourself.”
I feel a weak scoff tremble through her body. “But this doesn’t belong to my father. Not truly.” Her voice quivers beneath the weight of each word. “Everything I thought I knew about my life was a lie. And now I’m expected to live it alongside someone I thought wanted me dead?”
I shake my head, not knowing how to help her deal with the sudden discovery of how she became Adam Gray’s daughter. It was not by blood, but by chance and neglect of a stranger. And I am useless when it comes to curing her of this confusion, this hurt.
“I don’t understand any of this,” she continues in a rush. “I should be dead by now. Every person in this Plague-forsaken kingdom wants to see me dead, not on a throne.” She sighs into the shadows, her breath skittering across my skin. “But Kitt is right. The kingdoms won’t open trade if Ilya does not welcome Ordinaries again. You saw how hated Elites were in Dor.” I feel the quick shake of her head. “I’ve wanted a united Ilya more than anyone, even if the king does so begrudgingly. But…”
“But the Elites will not accept an Ordinary queen so easily,” I finish for her. “Hell, even the idea of Ordinaries freely living in Ilya.”
There’s a beat of silence before words are spilling from her mouth, the one I can’t see but know the shape of by heart. “I thought Kitt was spiraling. I thought he was grieving and angry.” A shaky breath. “I thought he’d order you to drive a sword through my chest the moment I set foot in that throne room.”
“I thought he would too,” I murmur. “And I was prepared to severely disappoint him.”
The ache in her voice makes me wince. “Kai…”
“Pae. I had no idea that this is what he had planned.” Dirty fingers comb through the messy strands of my hair. “I’ve known little of Ilya’s disarray over the years. And that is simply because I was spending more time in the slums than anyone filling this castle. You confirmed my suspicions in the Scorches, about the lack of food and land. But I hadn’t realized the situation was so dire.”
I can feel her spinning that ring on her thumb.
“You said he wasn’t himself when you left,” Paedyn ventures softly. “He was grieving. The people whispered about his madness.” The next words are a distant thought plucked from her head. “So, what changed?”
“I don’t know.” My mind wanders back to the plethora of paper that scattered his desk, and the stained hands rummaging through them. “I don’t know.”
The darkness speaks on our behalf for a long moment, swelling around us and filling our ears with a dull drone before I’m once again tugging at that fraying hem of her shirt. She melts against my body, and it feels like relief. That is, until she admits quietly, “I don’t know if I’ll survive this.”
“You’ve already survived worse,” I remind her sternly. “Besides, you seemed to have no problem handling that man in the throne room.”
“As did you,” she counters, and I can perfectly picture the steely look accompanying those words. “I don’t need you to fight my battles.”
“Oh, darling,” I murmur, “I know you don’t. But if I am to be your Enforcer, then you better get used to it.”
This shake of her head is imploring. “I am no one’s queen.”
“Is that so?” My fingers find her cheek before trailing down the smooth slope of her nose. “Then you have no idea how much power you hold over me.”
“You seem to forget that I’m completely powerless, Prince.” Her words hold an edge, as though her breath has become a blade she drags along my neck.
“So be my weakness, then.”
“You know I’m betrothed to your brother,” she whispers, lips dangerously close to mine.
I swallow, voice stern. “For now.”
“For forever,” she breathes harshly. “I don’t think there is a way out of this. And if what Kitt said in the throne room is real, then the future of Ilya and the Ordinaries within it rides on this.”
I tip my face until her forehead meets mine. “I’m too selfish to let you go so easily.”
“Then pretend.”
My thumb drags lazily over her bottom lip. “Does that mean I have to drag you into a closet every time I want to touch you?”
I’m toying with her, trying to ignore the bitter taste each word leaves in my mouth. I refuse to let this be her fate, and yet, fear twines around me, tightening my chest even as I tease her. Because if she truly becomes Kitt’s, I will spend the rest of my life mourning her.
So I distract. Deflect. Desire her more than ever in case this is the last time I get to.
I can hear the weak smile beginning to creep into her voice. “You’re not supposed to touch me at all.”
“But you could command me to,” I drawl. “Then I’d simply be following an order.”
Her laugh is breathy, and I memorize the sound.
Her arms twine around my neck, and I wonder if she will hold him like this.
Her nose nudges mine, and I silently beg that she will never flick another’s.
Her lips have only just brushed mine when the door flies open.
CHAPTER 3 Paedyn
“That was not what it looked like.”
A soft sigh. A nod that bobs the messy bun atop her head. “Like I said, I don’t know what it looked like, because I didn’t see a thing.”
“Ellie,” I blurt, exasperated. “You know damn well what you saw.”
She tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear, as if that could distract from the smile lifting her lips. “I was just there to grab a broom, and that is exactly what I did.” As if to emphasize her innocence, she lifts said broom and continues down the hall while I trudge behind.
I’m thankful for the brisk pace she sets that blurs the faces we pass and cools the flush painting my cheeks. My mind refuses to do anything but replay the moment that door swung open to reveal the Enforcer and his future queen tangled in the dark. We’d sprung apart, but not before recognition widened Ellie’s brown eyes.
And yet, a smile tempts the corner of my mouth. I stifle it with a hand before it has the chance to spread. Because the longer I mull over the mortifying moment, the funnier I find it. In fact, my entire life is in shambles and all I can do is stare at the jagged pieces in my palm and laugh. I don’t dare look in a mirror because what stares back is a mosaic of every mistake, every tragedy traced into my skin, and the looming shadow of each one to come.
Powerless. Fatherless. Adena-less. These were the things I was already struggling to survive. And yet, it’s the ring on my finger that may be the death of me.
A choking laugh slips from beneath my palm, loud enough to have Ellie throwing a worried glance over her shoulder. I follow her blindly through the castle I only ever thought to be a prisoner within. My fingers fiddle with the intricate band now binding me to another. It glints in the light, harmless like a word not yet sharpened by a lashing tongue.
Of all the places I imagined sitting, a throne was the last of them. A dungeon, yes. At the edge of a blade, certainly.
Because Ordinaries don’t rule. They cower.
The seriousness of my current situation seems to crash into me once again as we round another corner. Servants stare; Imperials leer; laughter dissolves in my throat. Happiness flees in the face of my future.
Because I am the very object of weakness. I am loathed by all of Ilya. And if I am to be put on a pedestal, even to save their kingdom, they will gladly push me off.
Ellie stops suddenly before a door, and I nearly skewer myself on the broom handle she holds. Forcing my mind to wander back to the present, I follow her into the pristine room.
It takes all of two steps to realize that this is most definitely not the chamber I stayed in during the Trials. No, sprawled before me is the sort of decadence I’ve only dreamed of.
My feet fumble atop the plush floors, eyes wide as they skim over the largest bedroom I’ve ever seen. Intricate molding climbs up the far wall to surround each arched window lining it. Warm light pours in as the sun stretches across the green carpet, as though reaching for me.
