Powerless (The Powerless Trilogy, #1)

by Lauren Roberts

It doesn’t take me long to get ready, begrudgingly pulling on a white cotton shirt before slipping out the door and— And there she is. She steps out of her room with her head down, quietly shutting the door before looking up and practically jumping at the sight of me. “Plagues, Kai, don’t scare me like that!” I blink. It’s the first time she’s called me by my name, and I realize then that I could get used to the sound of it rolling off her tongue. She seems to notice what she’s said and clears her throat before beginning to walk down the hallway.

“So—” Paedyn begins, probably the start of some snide comment that I’ll never get the pleasure of hearing because I grab her wrist and tug her toward the kitchen doors. I’m sure she is just as hungry as I am, and breakfast won’t be served for nearly another hour. I’m doing us both a favor.

“Shh.” I press my finger to her lips lightly and the words die in her throat. “I suppose my job will forever be feeding you now, hmm, Gray?” Her flustered expression has me laughing quietly before I hear the scuff of shoes, reluctantly drawing my gaze from her wide-eyed one.

I place a gentle hand on the small of Paedyn’s back, prodding her forward. It’s a question, a tentative test, an innocent inquiry. Is this okay? I briefly wonder if she’s considering breaking my wrist, maybe contemplating placing a dagger to my throat— And then she relaxes, easing into my touch. An answer to my question without uttering a word. Yes.

She glances at me, nodding toward Paedyn. “I like this one.” Paedyn tips her head back and laughs. My body goes still as I listen to the sound of it fill the kitchen. So warm, so bright.

Then I turn toward Paedyn, who’s leaning casually against the counter, a small smile tugging at her lips. I take a slow step toward her. Her head tips up to look me in the eyes as I close the distance between us, so close I can smell the lingering scent of lavender on her skin. I reach around her back, fingers brushing her tank. Her breath hitches and I feel my lips tug upward. When she opens her mouth to tell me off, I pull my hand back slowly, holding an apple in front of her face. “Always feeding you, remember?”

Finally, my traitorous eyes slide toward a flash of silver hair. She’s beating on that padded tree, per usual. She always does this. Her movements are quick, controlled, channeling an emotion I can’t place. She spins suddenly, her arm raised before I see her wrist flick. I blink and a knife sinks deep into a tree ten yards away. Practiced. Purposeful. Precise.

I hear the pounding of fists and quiet panting a few yards to my left, where the padded trees border the training grounds. She’s back at it. Once again, she’s hammering blows into the tree. Or maybe she simply never stopped in the first place. She looks frustrated, angry—sloppy. Her punches are weaker, her form far less controlled. She’s tired and her stance is suffering because of it.

She tugs her arm out of my grip and turns back toward the tree, intently ignoring me. Well that just won’t do.

“Now, throw a punch,” I murmur, leaning in to add, “Correctly.” Shockingly, she doesn’t argue, likely realizing it won’t do her any good. She squares her shoulders and bounces on the balls of her feet. Then she jabs, her fist flying toward the mat as I twist her hips in time with the punch.

“Now, do it on your own. Just to make sure you were paying attention.” She stills, facing the tree. And then there’s a flash of silver hair as she swivels around, throwing a beautiful jab at my face.

reflexes to react so quickly. “How was that?” she says sweetly, flashing that startling smile at me. I huff out a laugh. “What if I didn’t duck, Gray?” “I knew you’d duck, Azer.” She’s close to my face now, a wicked smile curving her lips when she repeats the exact phrase I told her after throwing a knife in her direction.

“You don’t really want to do this and neither do I. Especially because I wouldn’t want to mess up that pretty face of yours, darling.” She all but rolls her eyes at me. “That’s funny because I won’t hesitate to mess up your pretty face.” I smirk. “I knew you thought I was pretty.”

“You do know that I have eight powers at my disposal right now, and any one of them could drop you.” I grin as I say it, watching as her eyes narrow. “I don’t want to fight your power—I want to fight you. Just you.” Her piercing gaze never leaves mine as she says it, even as the other Elites turn their attention toward us, finding this fight far more interesting than their training. “So, you just want me? No powers?” “Yes. I just want you,” she breathes, annoyed with me. My mouth twists into a crooked grin. “I knew you wanted me, Gray.”

GAHHH

I hover over her with a smile, assuming the match is over. Wrong. She kicks me in the groin. Hard.

very good boo

One minute we’re flirting and the next we’re fighting—possibly even both at the

She’s up and on me in a second, practically jumping on top of my chest, placing her knees on either side of me. And then she cocks a bloody fist back, her smile triumphant. I take her in, bloody and straddling me. “If it weren’t for my current situation,” I glance at her fist still posed to strike, “this could be a lot more fun,” I say quietly, looking her up and down before staring into those blue eyes as they widen. Her focus slips for a moment. Perfect. I grab her waist and flip us over. Now I’m on top of her, pinning her wrists into the dirt beside her head.

“And what makes you think that?” Her face inches impossibly closer, lashes fluttering, lips quirked into a smile and dangerously close to my own. Her voice is breathy, barely audible as she whispers, “Because if you weren’t going easy on me, I wouldn’t be able to do this.” I barely have enough time to be confused before she headbutts me. When the crown of her head meets my nose, I see stars. She breaks my hold on her wrists and uses both legs to push me off her.

“How was my form, Prince?” she pants, lips bloody. “Any critiques now?” Her weight presses down on me and I huff out a laugh. “I have a few notes.” “Likewise.” Her hand flashes to her boot, sliding a thin blade from the worn leather. “For starters, I don’t appreciate my opponents going easy on me.” She gently drags the knife’s tip across my cheekbone, tickling my skin.

“Oh, darling, as long as you still think I’m pretty, I don’t give a damn what I look like.”

Before she can turn and leave, I say, “You’re far more fun to spar with than Kitt. We should do that again sometime.” Her head tilts slightly to the side, her smile sly. “I’ll never pass up the chance to kick your ass, Prince.”

“Oh, and Kai?” she calls, her voice casual. And then I’m ducking. She spun, throwing the knife so suddenly that I barely had time to dodge before it sank into the wooden target a few feet behind me.

His face splits into a smile that seems almost too shy to be worn by a royal. “Miss Gray, will you be my partner to the balls?”

omg no

The promise I made to her rings in my head, a reminder of how I’d forgotten about her. I vowed to visit her, and yet, only remembered to do so as soon as it was convenient for me.

oh well arent you considerate

I was lonely in a way that I imagine the stars to be, observed by everyone yet too far to truly be

Kai’s gaze drops to the dagger in my hand before returning to my face, lingering on my bruised cheekbone and split lip that he so generously gave me in our fight this morning. My pride wouldn’t allow the Healers to tend to my injuries, and unsurprisingly, the prince seemed to have the same problem. Faint bruises have bloomed across his jaw, a reminder of each blow I landed.

“Do you plan on pressing that to my throat again?” Kai’s lips twitch upward as he inclines his head toward the dagger clutched in my fist. “Don’t tempt me,” I say, running my fingers across the smooth, flat edge of the blade. “Here for a rematch?” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his slim, dark pants before crossing his ankles and leaning against the doorframe. “Don’t tempt me.” Ebony

“What do you want, Azer?” “Missed you, too, Gray,” Kai says, casually picking something from his distractingly thin shirt. Then his gaze snaps to mine, his long lashes in total contrast with his light eyes. “I’m here for your lesson.”

“So, you were really going to go to the ball and step all over my brother’s toes, then?” He huffs out a laugh. “You are just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

youre gonna help her dance with... YOUR BROTHER?

“Dance lessons? That is why you’re here?” I let out a breathy laugh, thinking he must be joking. “Took you long enough.” He pushes off the doorframe, taking a step closer. “Come on, we don’t have all night.” Then he smirks. “Unless you want us to be out all night.”

“Where are we going?” I ask as he begins leading me down the hallway. At the end of it, we climb a wide spiral staircase draped in emerald velvet carpet. The shadow of a smile settles on his face. “Somewhere with enough room for you to fall all over the place.”

oh how thoughtful

An uneven rug catches my foot, sending the floor flying toward my face. I’m about to sprawl onto the spiral-patterned rug when an arm slides around my middle, firm and feeling annoyingly familiar. “There’s that clumsy footwork we’re trying to rid you of,” Kai says, the smirk evident in his voice.

Everything filling the room is nicer than my own, yet used and worn. This is his room—his real room.

oouu how fun

My eyes finally flick back to Kai. He’s leaning against the doorframe, watching me curiously as I stand in the middle of his room, though I don’t remember walking so far into it. I nod my head toward the chipped wooden posts of his massive bed, not knowing what to say under his stare. “Interesting way to relieve stress.” “So is punching a pad till your fists bleed.”

“Are you sure you’ll be able to focus on dancing, or will I be too much of a distraction, darling?” His words startle me, and my eyes shoot back to his. I huff. “I think I’ll manage, thanks.” He gives me a doubtful look. “I guess we will find out, won’t we?”

A pressure at my waist makes me jump. Like a reflex, my hand twitches toward the knife now sheathed under the folds of my dress, but a calloused hand catches my wrist. “Knives are also not necessary for dancing,” Kai says with a low laugh. Holding my gaze, his rough fingers slide slowly from my wrist to my palm before he folds his hand into mine, raising it into the air. But it’s his other hand that holds my attention, the one that has settled comfortably against the small of my back. The one that is pulling me toward him.

The pressure on my back is suddenly gone when fingers catch my chin, tipping my head up. “You’ll never learn if you keep watching your feet, Gray. Eyes on me.” He smiles, returning his hand to my back. “That shouldn’t be too difficult.”

A maddening dimple peeks out at me, barely visible in the dim light. “So, what have we learned today?” he asks, annoyingly amused as ever. “One, daggers are not needed for dancing, and two, you actually have to be close to your partner during the dance. And shockingly, you seem to be struggling more with the latter.” “Would you rather I struggle with the first and put a dagger to your throat?” I pause. “Again?”

“Well, surprise, I’m done with this lesson,” I say flatly, turning out of his grasp. My back is to him when he snatches my wrist and whips me around, pulling me back. “But you still owe me one more dance.” His wavy hair tumbles over his brow, the look in his eyes practically begging me to play with him. “Fine,” I say, playing along. “Another dance for the answer to a question.” His eyebrows rise. “Is that a bribe, Gray?” “Those are my terms. Take it or leave it, Prince.” His only response is a low chuckle.

“Well, there are several beautiful shades of green we could choose from. We could put you in an emerald, or a sage—” I hold a hand up, a smile curving my lips. “Actually, I have a different color in mind.”

YES

As is tradition, the men always enter the ballroom first and wait for the women to arrive, in honor of the queen who appeared fashionably late to the ball where she first met Father, every eye on her as she made her entrance.

“You look stunning, Blair,” I say softly, because she does, in a cold and sharp sort of way. “Why, thank you, Kai,” she muses, her darkened lashes lowering as she takes in my attire, my hair, my face. “As do you.”

hey now

“Thought you might want that back, Brother.” I turn my head to find Kitt standing behind my chair before my eyes slide to her shimmering beside him. She is every bit the Silver Savior.

Paedyn’s coal-lined lashes sweep over me as I take her in. Her hair is like a curtain covering her dress, making it difficult to tell where the silver strands end and the shiny dress begins. Fabric fans out around her ankles, displaying a large slit sliding up the length of her leg, mirroring the one I tore in her dress that day of the interviews. And there, strapped to her thigh, is a silver dagger for all to see. I fight my smile at the sight of her deadly weapon paired with her dazzling attire—so lovely, yet so lethal. Every bit of her is draped in silver. Not green. Not expected. Beautiful, bold, not blending in. A statement. A reminder of who she is and what she did.

she is so tea

Her eyes briefly meet mine before Kitt leads her to the other side of the table. And that’s all it takes to have me downing my own drink and desperately wishing this night was over. My eyes flick up, meeting Paedyn’s across the table where she’s now sitting. She holds my gaze, only breaking it when Kitt says something softly beside her, turning her attention from me and pinning those ocean eyes on him.

HE SICK

“That’s a lovely gown you’re wearing, Paedyn.” Blair’s tone is mocking, her mouth curving into a smirk. I sigh, looking up from my plate to see Paedyn smiling slightly. “Why, thank you.” Her eyes skim over Blair and her green attire. “And your dress is so very… unique,” she says with a pointed look at the rest of the ballroom and the women wearing similar shades. Blair’s eyes narrow. “I don’t know if you were taught this in the slums, so let me enlighten you. Ilya’s kingdom color is green. Not silver.”

do she wanna fight or what

I stiffen at the way she spat out the word slums, drawing even Sadie and Braxton from their quiet conversation to cast wary glances around the table. We all seem to be holding our breaths, awaiting Paedyn’s response. And she never seems to disappoint. After taking a slow sip from her glass, she meets Blair’s burning gaze. “Hmm. And did living in the palace teach you how to be a bitch?” Blair snaps. Before I can blink, the knife placed beside Paedyn’s plate is now raised in front of her chest, its point aimed at her heart.

ohhhh

“As do the rest of us,” Ace replies before running a hand over his oiled hair, chuckling. “Well, all of us except for Paedyn, who simply intends to survive.” He’s mocking her answer from the interviews. Hera squirms in her seat beside Ace, clearly as uncomfortable as the rest of the table. And what I’m about to say is going to make things a hell of a lot worse.

do these ppl wanna fighttttt

The feel of her is foreign to me after the nights spent with Paedyn in my arms. Nights that I still haven’t told Kitt about. I was doing him a favor. My eyes wander across the dance floor, landing on my brother and the girl in his arms. I’m not wearing green, but I feel it, nonetheless. Envy claws at me as I watch them step in time to the very waltz I led Paedyn through only last night.

I catch her watching me and our eyes lock, sparks dancing between us. She is the embodiment of a bad decision. The twin of danger and desire. The fine line between deadly and divine. And I can feel myself drowning.