Powerless (The Powerless Trilogy, #1)

by Lauren Roberts

For every girl who has ever felt powerless

Climbing up a chimney isn’t exactly how I thought I would be spending my evening.

Technically, a home implies that one has a roof over their head. But stars are far more fun to stare at than a ceiling.

Adena’s smile could rival the sun over the Scorches Desert.

“Every girl deserves something equally as pretty and deadly as they are,”

When the king is distraught, Kitt is devastated.

She loves the sight of a prince pinned against a wall.

Vicious little thing, isn’t she?

Perhaps I’ll relieve him of one of his hands, so he never has the opportunity to lay it on a woman again.

“Mark my words, Prince, I will be your undoing.” I lean in, ignoring the knife against my throat as I murmur, “Oh, darling, I look forward to it.”

“I am more than willing to rip your dresses for you, Gray. To help, of course.”

Plagues, if I knew people liked this so much, I would have charged for readings on the street.

Lol

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

The most powerful man paired with the most powerless woman.

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

Every bit of her is draped in silver. Not green. Not expected. Beautiful, bold, not blending in.

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.

Falling to my death during a Trial would be a pathetic way to die and would completely ruin my reputation, even in death.

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.

We made a living on Loot together. She made Loot worth living on.”

I don’t want Kitt’s role in life because I refuse to give him mine.

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

“Not only that,” my eyes slowly slide up to meet his, “you laid flowers on her grave.”

The strongest weapon a woman has at her disposal is that she is often underestimated,” I answer with a small smile.

“Oh, darling, a trophy implies that I won it, earned it, deserve it.” He leans in farther, a certain reverence reflecting in his gaze. “But if I get to have you, it will be because you let me.”

I listen to her complain about how she would have already transformed into a falcon and left us all in the dust if it weren’t for us tying her down with our teamwork.

“I think he was afraid that I’d be scared of him, so he’d sneak back into his room every night. But I still caught glimpses of him, heard him hacking at his bedposts with a sword.”

I’ve endured torture, faced my worst fears, led armies into battle, and yet, climbing a mountain with a hangover may just be the death of me.

“Never forget that your wit is a weapon to be wielded if only your mind is as sharp as your blade.”

Quite the team, Death and I.

People aren’t born strong; they’re made that way. And the prince and I know that better than most.

“Then I will leave my mark upon your heart, lest you forget who’s broken it.”

Perhaps portrayal is the true power. I pretended to be healed, and he believed it was so.

If this is to be my routine, then defying him will be my relief.

And then I’m wiping away all emotion and driving the bloody blade of my sword into the bedposts for the first time.