Powerless (The Powerless Trilogy, #1)

by Lauren Roberts

I’m about to slip back out the door when a mass of messy black hair catches my eye. He’s sitting—no, slumping on a large slab of stone near the far end of the ballroom, dirty and drenched with blood. My heart hammers against my rib cage. He’s hurt. And more importantly, why do I care?

His gray eyes only look startled for a moment before they begin roaming over me, searching my body for injuries as I do the same to him.

“What happened? Where are you hurt?” I look around, scanning the room. “And where are those damn Healers?” “Ah, Gray. Just the person I wanted to see.”

“What? Yes. I’m fine.” I dismiss his question and scoot closer, hands slightly outstretched. “But clearly, you’re not.” “And here I was thinking you hated me and my stupid dimples. I’m touched you care so much about my well-being, Gray.”

“Oh, don’t mistake my motives, Prince. I only want to keep you alive long enough so I can punch that smirk off your face. Again.”

I gasp. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” “Darling, that is a very loaded question.” I ignore his comment, unable to tear my eyes from the throwing knife buried deep into the flesh of his right shoulder blade. “You’ve had a knife in your back this whole time and you just let me talk?” I’m sputtering. A dimple accompanies his crooked grin. “Oh, but the sound of your voice was such a welcome distraction from the pain.”

“Okay,” I say slowly, “tell me what to do.” His laugh is strained. “You say that like you’ll actually listen to me for once.” “Kai, I’m about to add another knife to your back if you don’t—” “I just need you to pull it out.”

“Do me a favor, darling?” “And what’s that?” “Promise me you’ll stay alive long enough to stab me in the back?”

She’s bewildering as much as she is beguiling. That pretty mouth of hers says one thing, but those ocean eyes say another. She pulls a knife from my back only to say she’ll bury another one there. She’s confusing, captivating, and we’re completely wrong for each other in all the right ways.

She’s a flame, and I’m going to get burned. An ocean and I’m going to drown.

Get to the water. Get to the— “You just can’t seem to stay away from me, can you, Gray?”

“Gray, what happened?”

“Paedyn! Hey, Pae, look at me.” Rough hands are gripping the sides of my face, forcing my eyes to flutter open. They feel cold against my fevered skin, now slick with sweat, and concern is written all over the beautiful face hovering over me. I’ve never seen him so worried, so full of emotion. His cool mask has cracked, shattered, splintered into a million pieces as he lifts my head off the ground, pulling me toward him to search my face with wide, gray eyes.

And I’ve certainly never heard him call me “Pae.” I’m smiling up at him now, grinning like an idiot. I can’t stop. Delusional. I’m completely and undeniably delusional.

“Remind me to make you smile like that again, when you aren’t dying, and I have all the time in the world to memorize it.”

“Paedyn, open your eyes.” It’s an order, strong and stern. And I ignore it. How very typical of me. Even in death my body refuses to listen to the commands of the future Enforcer. “Open your eyes, dammit!”

Far, far away, I hear a male voice muttering panicked words. “If you die, I’m going to kill you.”

I knew something was wrong when I saw her arm trembling. Saw it shake with the strain of keeping the bow aimed at me, ready to make good on her threat to shoot. Then I saw her knees shake, saw the fire extinguish from her burning blue eyes. But above all, she wasn’t playing with me, wasn’t teasing me or twisting her mouth into that sly smile of hers that I enjoy so much. And that’s what worried me the most.

The sight of her so weak, so vulnerable, so unlike herself, was enough to shatter a piece of the soul I’d forgotten I had.

There’s that look again. It’s like she’s seeing straight through my many masks, tearing down my walls, stripping me bare with nothing but her gaze. I hate it—I love it. I feel free—I feel trapped. The thought that a single pair of blue eyes can leave me so vulnerable, so exposed, is alarming. So, I do what it is I do best—deflect.

“Which one of them did this to you?”

My fingers find her chin and then I’m tugging her face back in my direction so I can look her in the eyes as I say, “I’m going to ask again. Who did this to you?”

“You… you are—” She’s sputtering again, so I kindly finish for her. “Intelligent? Irresistible?” “Calculating, cocky, and a completely arrogant bastard,” she pants. “That is what I was going to say.”

And in that moment, I realized that I’d wanted to say it—wanted her to hear it from my lips. Realized that if she died, I would never again get to look into those blue eyes and utter those two syllables that have been a constant in my mind.

Just saying her name felt intimate, personal, somehow. And now I forever want her name on my lips and rolling off my tongue until I’m drunk on the taste and sound of it. What the hell is wrong with me?

I have nothing to offer her. I am wrong, so wrong for her. She is too brave, too bold, too bloody good for me. Maybe I could be a better man.

ever since she discovered I was a prince and declared us enemies, I’ve played along, not wanting to be outdone. And it’s fun. It’s a distraction for the both of us, the toying and teasing with one another. But now? If I am to be her enemy, I want it to be because she loathes herself for wanting me.

“Us. I like the sound of that, don’t you?” I roll my eyes, ignoring him. “What do we do now?” “That is a very loaded question, Gray.”

Maybe it’s because I’m too weak to fight him, or worse, maybe it’s the part of me that doesn’t want him to leave that makes me say, “Fine. Partners.”

My hands hover above his chest. “You… endured it?” He studies me for a moment, seeming to decide what he wants to say before settling with a simple, “Yes. Often.” “Who,” I swallow, “who did that to you?”

“I never wanted this. Never wanted to be what I am today. But monsters are made, not born. And I had no choice in the matter. I have no choice in the matter. But I won’t deny what I am, and I’ll do what I must for my kingdom. For my king.”

“If by ‘fun’ do you mean flirty? Because you certainly are more of that.” He flashes me a wicked, wide grin and my heart trips over itself stupidly. “I can’t seem to help it when I’m with certain company.”

I snort loudly, and that’s all it takes to get Kai laughing with me—well, at me. The sound is rich and deep, and irritatingly enough, I find myself quieting so I can hear it better.

“I’m not one of your soldiers, Kai.” “You’re right, you aren’t.” He strides toward me, and the sight of him so bloody is suddenly intimidating. But I force myself to stand my ground when he halts before me, close enough now for me to see his smoky eyes turn to ice. “My soldiers don’t mean anything to me. They are expendable and easy to replace.” His chest heaves, his eyes locked with mine. “So, yes, Gray. You aren’t one of my soldiers.”

“Of course you can. You and your salves will be the death of me.”

“I’m beginning to think that you enjoy getting hurt, if only so you can have my hands all over you.” He lets out a low laugh. I can practically feel his gaze gliding over me as he says, “Oh, I’m not making you do anything, darling. You can leave me to bleed out if you must. Because I only want your hands all over me if you want them to be.”

My eyes snap to his gray ones already pinned on me. I am playing a very dangerous game. Walking on a sharp blade and hoping I don’t get cut. Playing with fire and hoping I don’t get burned. Swimming in a dangerous current and hoping I don’t drown. He is dangerous. And even with th...

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 didn’t realize you had watched me so closely.” “Watched? Darling, I’ve never stopped.”

“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.”

“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?

“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.

“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,”

“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.”

“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.”

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,

“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.”

“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 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.