Powerless (The Powerless Trilogy, #1)

by Lauren Roberts

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

“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.”

“Too stubborn to ask for my help, Gray?” “No,” I say coolly. “Too strong to need it.” His next words are murmured close to my ear. “That’s what I like to hear.”

The prince doesn’t miss a beat. I’m in his arms before the musicians’ finish drawing out their note. He feels too familiar. We fit together perfectly, pieces of a puzzle snapping into place. I shouldn’t let myself relax into his touch. Shouldn’t let the tension ease from my body when he holds me. But I can do nothing to stop it. Utterly and completely powerless.

Then he calls over his shoulder. “Do me a favor, darling?” “And what’s that?” “Promise me you’ll stay alive long enough to stab me in the back?” I laugh loudly. “That’s been my goal all along, Prince.”

I’m smiling up at him now, grinning like an idiot. I can’t stop. Delusional. I’m completely and undeniably delusional. But in this moment, I don’t want to die—if only so I can hear him say my name one more time. Delirious. I’m so very delirious. He’s suddenly still. His eyes roam over my face, lips slightly parted as he takes me in. Then he blinks. Once. Twice. His dark lashes flutter, gray eyes flicking between mine as he says, “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.”

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

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.

“I don’t know that I ever lived before laying eyes on the likes of you.”

She struggles to speak, struggles to take shallow breaths. “This is not a goodbye… only a good way to say bye until I see you next.”