Powerless (The Powerless Trilogy, #1)

by Lauren Roberts

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.”

“Where is the healing salve?” His expression is blank. “Gone.” I try to blink away my confusion, to no avail. “You used all of it on me?” “Without hesitation.” Cool, calm, collected. That’s Kai.

“You asked me once if I wished it was me who would be king,” Kai says. “And I stand by what I said. I don’t want Kitt’s role in life because I refuse to give him mine. My brother is no killer, and it’s better me than him.”

His faint smile fades, leaving a set jaw in its place. “The truth then?” “The truth always,” I breathe. When he finally answers, his tone is dry. “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.” His words hit me hard, their meanings hitting harder. He knows exactly what he is, what he does. He’s a pawn to be played in a game he is forever trapped in, and each horrible act he commits is in the name of duty, the name of Ilya.

I laugh lightly. “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 can’t seem to stop, can’t seem to control my cackling. The thought of us hitting each other like children in the middle of a deadly Trial is extremely comical. And for once, I hope there is a Sight watching this unfold.

“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.”

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 that one thought echoing in my mind, I hold his gaze and put my hands on him.

It’s been three days since a wolf took a bite out of me. 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 hate it. Liar.

I’d rather not split up, simply because I’m far more entertained when Paedyn is with me,

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

I spin her if only to give myself some time to think. 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.

The tension between us pulls taut, like an invisible tether connecting the two of us. My pulse quickens and so does her breathing, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

My masks are still at the ready, my walls still in place, but she is slowly breaking down both my facades and fortresses. And I’m suddenly angry at myself for allowing it. For allowing myself to care. For allowing myself to think of her in any way other than my competition.

He leans closer, eyes brimming with barely bottled-up emotions. “And I’ll save your life again and again, aimlessly hoping you will allow me to stay in it.”

“Thanks to you, I have a feeling I’m going to grow very familiar with it. Few have the power to make me plead.”

And then I watch her die all over again. It seems that a Sight failed to catch Kai burying her, though part of me wonders if that was intentional. The king would have likely found a decency such as that to be a weakness, a flaw in the Enforcer he’s created. So, the kingdom will never see that shred of kindness Kai showed. It seems that secret solely belongs to the two of us.

I almost snort before turning back to the fountain. I remind myself that this small victory with the shillings could mean nothing. In fact, removing and distributing them in the slums may never happen. But he’s listening, and that is progress. It’s potential.

That damn Dual ability of his.

I pass by the alley where I first met Kai and smile at the fond memory of robbing him blind. Good times.

“So demanding,” Lenny sighs, gesturing for me to follow him. “On second thought, you might be better suited as a royal than an Imperial, aye, Princess?”

Lenny gives her a sarcastic grin before he casually answers my unspoken question. “I’m a Hyper. I have enhanced senses, which some people like to make fun of. Even though it’s saved their life a few times.”

“My dear, you have…” His eyes bore into mine so intensely that I fight the urge to look away. “So many questions. For starters, I’m Calum. Welcome to the Resistance. Well, a small part of it. We’ve been patiently awaiting your arrival.”

The strongest weapon a woman has at her disposal is that she is often underestimated,”

My head is spinning and I’m suddenly thankful that I’m sitting down. “But your father didn’t just know about the Resistance. You see, the Resistance has been around for nearly a decade now, and Adam was one of its original leaders. That is the very reason we are still in this house, using it as a headquarters like we did when he was alive.”

Calum heaves a sigh. “It wasn’t just you he kept the Resistance secret from. In those beginning years, we lay low, silently spreading word of our cause through those we could trust. It was dangerous for you to be a part of the Resistance, so he wanted to wait until you were older to join.” He pauses before quietly adding, “But he never got the chance to tell you. And when we found your father… you were gone.”

Calum calmly continues, “During the Purging three decades ago, more Ordinaries remained in Ilya after the banishment than originally believed. They hid in secret, right under the king’s nose. There are Resistance members spread all over Ilya since it is obviously both unsafe and unpractical for us to all reside in one area. Even I do not know where or who they all are. We have leaders assigned to different areas of the kingdom, allowing us to spread information to Resistance members smoothly and without suspicion. Word travels fast when the leaders converse and pass on information to the members in their section.”

I blink at them all. “You are all leaders? I mean, you’re so… young.” “And handsome,” Finn sighs. “But yes, we are some of the leaders that were able to make it tonight. Honestly, we are just glorified carrier pigeons who pass along information secretively so the Resistance can stay united despite not being able to gather all together.”

My eyes snap to Mira as she says, “And I’m a Silencer.”

“The Ordinaries in Ilya tend to adapt the ability of the Hypers since it is a fairly easy power to pose with.” At that, Leena shoots Lenny a smug look. “When Ordinaries find us and join the Resistance, we help them build a life, teach them how to survive.” He offers me a sad smile. “Not everyone had a father like yours who taught them to actually become powerful. Your Psychic ability has been trained into you since you were a child, and it’s the most convincing cover I’ve ever seen.”

“Because he saw the prince already weakened and his anger got the best of him,” Mira says, her expression void of sympathy. “Long story short, Prince Kai killed someone very close to Micah, consuming the Silencer with rage and a need for revenge. When he saw the prince in that alley, worn out and preoccupied, he took the opportunity to try and take him down.” She pins me with a stare. “But you took him down instead.”

Lenny adds, “We are just the Ilyans who care enough to realize that it doesn’t add up. Ordinaries lived with the Elites for decades before the Purging, and even now, they hide under the king’s nose and live right alongside the Elites with no complaints of any abilities dwindling.” He sighs. “But just because the king and his Healers said the Ordinaries were diseased, most of the Elites won’t think twice if it means their powers and lives are at stake.”

I open my mouth to ask this, but Calum beats me to it. “The Resistance is finally ready to take action. And unlike what the king has said about us, we are not radicals who kill for the sheer fun of it. We want justice. We want the truth to be told. We want Ordinaries and Fatals to live in peace with the rest of the Elites once more. To not be hunted and killed for things they cannot control simply because the king wants an Elite society and is willing to lie about Ordinaries to get it. So that is our goal. That is our cause.”

It’s Lenny who offers me an answer. “As an Imperial, I’ve been informed that the final Trial will be held in the Bowl, and that is where we are going to show ourselves to Ilya. Now, the castle is riddled with secret passageways and tunnels that lead in and out to various places. We need to find the one that leads right under the box in the arena. Securing the king is the trickiest part of this, so we need to use the element of surprise against him while the rest of the Resistance can come through the many tunnels leading into the Bowl.”

I shoot him a look as Calum slowly says, “Your relationships with the princes are… valuable. Specifically, your connection with Prince Kitt.” He leans forward, urging me to understand. “Paedyn, I believe you hold far more sway over that boy than you give yourself credit for.” I’m not sure he’s right about that, but I nod slowly, taking in his words. “You want me to use Kitt to find the tunnel.” “Bingo,” Finn says.

“It’s really quite simple,” Calum says. “The majority of us will finally all gather together, and we’ll show the people of Ilya who we are and what we have to say. Show them that we are not a threat while also reminding them of who they have been killing for decades. The king is going to have to either admit his lies about the Ordinaries or simply give us our freedom. And you are going to help us do it.”

“Paedyn?” I spin on my heel to see Calum watching me. “Your father would be proud.”

No, I want his power. Want to be able to use it and deflect it so I can never be crippled like that again.

I know what she is doing, and I welcome the distraction. Welcome her being the distraction.

Damn. Archery has never been my favorite, and clearly, Paedyn doesn’t feel the same. She’s a natural. So confident, so controlled, as if the bow is nearly an extension of her arm. The arrow obeys her as she wills it to land exactly where she wants. And I’m suddenly thinking she’s right. I might lose this.

“You’re right about that.” She exhales a shaky laugh. “My father taught me to shoot with both hands, and after my injury in the Trial, I figured I should practice more with my left.”

Paedyn huffs and I tug her closer to me, using this game as an excuse to hold her, touch her. Her head rests on my chest as she examines the target, breathing deeply. And I’m doing the same. My chest heaves, the feel of her against me almost too much to breathe properly. We fit together so perfectly, so right. I can hardly think, or breathe, or move when my fingers glide across her skin, her waist, her body.

Gone. Her touch vanishes, leaving me aching for her to lay her hands on me— That’s when it hits me. She’s right. She doesn’t need to do anything more to distract me. The mere thought of her being so close and barely touching me has my head spinning. I’m melted by the promise that her fingers gave me, promise of more, promise of something. Nothing. She won’t lay her hands on me. Instead, she’ll drive me mad by teasing me with her touch, only to pull it away, leaving me wanting more. Leaving me cold without the fire her fingers trail along my skin.

Maybe I did it on purpose. Maybe I chose to distract her because I knew she was too stubborn to not do the same to me. Maybe I did it all just because I wanted her hands on me, too. Because it was an excuse for me to hold her, for her to hold me. And now that she isn’t, I’m craving her touch. Craving her.

pull her toward me, staring into her startled eyes. Her lips part, either in surprise or because she’s about to tell me off, I’m not sure. “Don’t,” I pause, swallow, exhale slowly, “play with me like that.”

Her palm meets my skin and it’s almost like I remembered how to breathe again.

A single touch from her, or the lack of it, is enough to drive me mad.

I just want to see the look on his face when I sound so confident about surviving that long. I follow up my statement with a fake smile, ready to leave him and this conversation behind when he says, “Let me be frank, Paedyn. You are not winning this.”

The dagger tucked into my boot has never tempted me more, tormenting me with the thought of shoving its blade through his chest like he did to my father. But he didn’t just kill my only parent that day—he killed a piece of me in the process.

If I didn’t want to win before, I certainly do now.