Fearless (The Powerless Trilogy, #3)

by Lauren Roberts

He clears his throat, setting aside the half-empty plate. “She asked if Kitt knew about… us.” I stiffen. “Us?” “Yes, us.” Confusion crinkles his brow. “Everything going on between you and me. She saw me in your bed, Pae.” “I know, but”—I swallow before hurling the harsh truth at him—“there is no us. There can never be an us, Kai. Not really.” Silence. The words hurt, tearing ribbons of regret up my throat. I can feel the slow shattering of my heart with every day we spend pretending. And speaking the inevitability of our doom only fissures the organ further. Something shifts behind his gaze. Maybe it’s hurt. Perhaps disbelief. In fact, I don’t care what emotion lingers behind the mask he’s suddenly put up, only that there is one and I’m staring at it.

I take a deep breath before trying to justify the damage I’ve caused. “Kai, you know it’s true. You’ve always known it was true. This”—I gesture between the two of us—“is a fantasy.” “Right. Pretend.” “No,” I say sternly. “Nothing about the way I feel is pretend, but…” I lift my hand, letting the diamond there catch the streaky light. “I’m still marrying your brother.” And I hate that. He’s shaking his head now, and the bite in his voice makes me wince. “And I’ll watch you two look down at me from the dais, nothing more than a weapon you can wield just like the king you killed had.” Disgust drenches my voice. “You think so little of me?” “I wish I did.” His eyes are icy. “I wish I could think about anything else.” My voice settles into something stern. Hurt hardens me, and I spew the damning truth I’ve avoided for so long. “What did you think we were going to do? Hide for the rest of our lives beneath the willow tree?”

He laughs, and it’s a biting sound I forgot him capable of. “Of course I know. But don’t you see? That doesn’t matter.” He lifts a hand toward my face before thinking better of it. “I’m selfish, Paedyn. I burned your home to the ground just to have you and now it is all of Ilya standing in my way, tempting me to light a match.”

“It was all a fantasy anyway. Kitt is who you, the Silver Savior, were destined for.” I watch him stand to his feet in one swift movement. “I was nothing more than a distraction.” I follow quickly after him, my expression hardening at the mocking nickname. The words I hurl at his stony facade are far from the truth, but hurt sharpens them on my tongue all the same. “Maybe you’re right.” “You’ll find that I typically am, Majesty.” My chest heaves, mere inches from his. It’s anger at our cruel fates that has me lashing out. “Maybe I should distance myself from this distraction.” A muscle twitches in his jaw. “Maybe you should.” “Fine.”

“Fine.” I give him one last withering look before spinning on my heel and heading for the door. But the harsh words he mutters have my feet halting atop the rocking floor. “And what exactly did the queen ask you about Kitt?” I stand there for a moment, hand clutching the door’s rough edge. Then I’m whipping around to meet his gaze of indifference with words that are equally so. “She asked if I was going to kill him.” There is a long pause wedged between us. “And are you?” “Again,” I say between clenched teeth, “you think so little of me?” “You know I do not.” My eyes flick up his rigid body. “Then you should know the answer to her question.” He looks away, crossing his arms over the broad chest beneath. “Good. Because if I have to choose between you or Kitt…” “I know,” I murmur. Tears threaten to wash away the anger I’m cowering behind. “Do you?” Those gray eyes glide over me in that way I’m certain I’ll never get used to. “Because I sure as hell don’t.”

“He is,” Myla blurts, ever the protective mother. “No one in Ilya is like him.” This equally intrigues and amuses the king. “We will see about that.”

“I accept your proposal,” Edric says to his adviser, eyes still pinned on the strength squirming in his Silencer’s arms. “He will be mine.”

I don’t need to turn to know who they belong to. She must have wanted me to hear her coming.

I sigh. “I’ve missed you, Gray.” “It’s only been a few days of not speaking,” she retorts, moonlight dancing on the ends of her silver hair. “No.” I shake my head, watching her hesitantly step closer. “It was the beginning of the rest of our lives.” “Kai, please don’t—”

I turn to Paedyn once again, grabbing her by the shoulders. “I need you in your room.” “Are you coming with me?” she asks pointedly. “No, I’m staying out here and—” “Then so will I,” she insists. “I won’t sit and wait to learn of your fate, Kai.” I cup her face, urging her to understand. “Please, Pae, don’t fight me—”

“In. Please!” I shout the word into the night, willing her to hear the desperate plea within it. “I can’t leave you!” she yells back, bending to pick up a forgotten spear. “I won’t!”

The starry sky blurs around me. I’m falling. Paedyn screams my name. Falling. The churning sea suddenly appears beneath me. Falling. Falling. Fa—

Paedyn’s silver hair glints over the ship’s railing. And that is the last I see before my body collides with the sea.

I strain for salvation. Beg for life. Beg to live it with her.

Pain shoots down my body with every tug. And when my boots hit the deck, I crumple to my knees. Paedyn’s body eases my fall, her arms wrapped tightly around me even after we hit the deck. We stare at each other for a long moment, content to ignore the beast raging behind us. I fear it would take much more than that to pull my gaze from her. With a choked sob, she presses her face into my neck, wiping tears across my skin. “I thought I lost you,” she whispers, half laughing. I lift a numb hand to her soaking hair, running fingers I can’t feel through it. With chattering teeth, I manage, “You c-can’t get rid of me that easily, Gray.” She cups my face, head shaking and smile trembling. “Damn fate, and duty, and every other word meant to keep us apart.” Tears slip from those blue eyes I would happily drown in. “I want to hide with you beneath the willow tree. You are the secret I will spend the rest of my life keeping.” Her voice quivers beneath the weight of such a promise. “Us.” That alone is enough to have tears springing to my eyes. So I nod. Her face in my hands, my heart in hers.

She looks over at me then, and I remember just how much I missed her doing something as simple as acknowledging my existence. A small smile pulls at her lips. She’s breathtaking in this light, as though her hair is a collection of the moon’s rays. “You forget, Kai.” Her fingers wrap tightly around the spear. “This is my Trial.” And then she’s running.

And this is not the first monster I have faced. So when it turns its luminous green eyes on me, baring numerous rows of jagged teeth, I do not back down. I do not fail, or falter, or feel remorse. Every beast can be defeated. A creature. A Trial. A king.

And I roar right back.

Even when staring up into the embodiment of terror, I realize that this is still half the beast I’ve faced in the past.

Kai is beside me in an instant, hands frigid atop my skin. His palms have slid around my neck to tangle numb fingers in my soaking hair. “What were you thinking?” he scolds, wide eyes searching mine. “Do I need to order you to your room next time?” I smile weakly. “That won’t work when I’m queen.” His lips are stained blue with cold, and yet they still twitch into a smile. “I can be very persuasive.” “Well I’ll be damned, the Silver Savior does it again!” I turn toward the captain’s bellowing voice, his timing impeccable as ever. The limping crew gathers around him, some dripping with water, others blood. Torri holds an arm tightly to his injured chest and pushes the pain from his voice. “We’ve conquered the beast!” A weak chant begins to rise from their collective throats, one I thought I would never hear again. “Silver Savior!” “Silver Savior!” “Silver Savior!” And I might have liked the sound of it.

It is then that I see his grief is not for the king I killed. But for me and everything I endured by his hand. I blink, bewildered by this new information.

I raise a brow. “Is it me you’re scared of, Prince?” His answer is quick and earnest. “I’m scared of what could happen to you. What I could do to you.” A muscle twitches in his jaw. “I fear every swipe of my sword and every command from my mouth. It haunts me.” Emotion clogs my throat, forcing me to swallow back a sudden wave of grief. My heart aches for this boy who never got to be one. “It’s not fair,” I manage. “This life you’re forced to live.” His eyes are a storm that sweeps over my face. “It might just all be worth it if it means I can protect you.”

“Pae?”

Kai dips his head, hiding a smile. Jax follows after his older brother, though far less discreetly with a choking cough. And Kitt— Kitt just stares at me.

“It seems you’ll make a fine queen.” The diamond on my finger grows heavy. “It’s as though you were born for this.”

honeylike glow.

Using only the corner of her mouth, she fires back, “Stop staring at what you can’t have.” I lift a piece of turkey to my mouth. “I wasn’t.” “You were.” This voice belongs to the girl beside my cousin, her sheet of black hair swaying as she leans over the table to meet my stare. I don’t know the Crawler well, but I recognize her as Andy’s friend from the ball. Though, with a quick glance beneath the table at their interlaced fingers, it seems safe to assume that their relationship has progressed further.

Paedyn’s bright smile and cold gaze fall back on Blair. “To the Ordinaries,” she says cheerily. “And every unjust death. May they be avenged.” Then she tips her head at Blair and lifts the glass to her lips. I glance down the table to find a lilac head of hair bowing right back. “To the Ordinaries.”

“It seems like we could all blow off some steam.” Then a sudden, wicked tug of her lips. “Now, where is this wine cellar you always used to sneak off to?”

“I like you two like this,” she says softly. I bring the bottle to my lips, swallowing the dark wine. “Like what? Drunk bastards off our asses?” Kitt laughs, clinking his flagon against mine. “I’ll drink to that.” Paedyn shakes her head at us. “No—well, maybe—but I just like the two of you being so… carefree. Together.” That has Kitt looking suddenly serious despite the ruffled hair and unbuttoned shirt. His gaze is earnest as it slides to mine. “Just like old times.” “Just like old times,” I echo. “I missed you, Brother.” Kitt sighs. “I miss us.” “I’m right here, Kitty.” My smile is soft. “I haven’t gone anywhere.” “Haven’t you?” The words are a startling snap. And then the king is laughing, smothering that accusatory tone with a smile. It’s an odd flickering of emotions I doubt he intended to show us. But when he turns to Paedyn, bottle lifted sloppily into the air, his tired eyes are bright. “To old times.”

I never asked for this brutality, this darkness. It was asked of me.

Ellie leans in, her brown eyes tracing the faint pattern of twining vines etched in white thread. “It’s beautiful.” With a sad smile, she adds, “Adena would have loved it.” “She would have been jealous of the needlework,” I agree with a light laugh. “She always did hate doing that herself.”

“Perfect,” I say cheerily. “Roses.” Ellie gives me a knowing look. “Is that just the first flower that came to mind?” “Maybe, but it seems fitting,” I defend. “I admire the rose and its thorns. Even the prettiest things can bite.” Slowly, Ellie nods in agreement. “Then roses it is.” I watch her bustle around the room once again, ensuring everything is in order for the night. “And they will certainly be easy to find. There is a private rose garden here on the grounds. Pretty pink ones, I believe.” I bat her away when she tries to fluff the pillow behind my back.

I dream of Adena, as I always do. It is unpleasant, as it always is. The memory of her death resurfaces, swirling in and out of focus. A collage of every way in which I should have saved her plays behind my heavy eyelids. This nightmare is as torturous as every one before, and I claw uselessly at my subconscious to free me from it.

It is only right to visit our home with her hugging me closely. I step out into the shadowed hallway, looking like the resident of Loot I once was, ready to rob an unsuspecting prince. It’s fitting that I look like my old self, feel like the girl just trying to survive one sunrise at a time. Before I was the Silver Savior, the king killer, the queen-to-be, I was Paedyn Gray. And she is going home.

Dawn dares to creep over the horizon, painting the alley in a warm glow. While walking that graveled path from the Bowl Arena, I watched the night slowly flee from a rising sun. Those quiet hours were spent reliving the last time I stumbled down that road, bloody and broken. I passed the tree whose roots are decorated with that bundle of forget-me-nots, passed the rocks and plants that were once stained with my blood. Everywhere I looked, my past stared back.

This realization stings slightly, a reminder of everything I no longer am. So much of myself lives within these streets, both the broken and the resilient. Adena lives here, on every warm breeze and colorful banner. Her name is written across the stones I step on, and I let her soft presence lead me back home.

But that is going to change.

The thought falls away when the Fort comes into view. My heart stutters in reminder of its missing piece. I stumble toward the alley’s end, my eyes pinned on the barricade. A ray of sunlight brushes the worn rug and reaches for me to rejoin it. The Fort looms closer, and my pulse quickens. Squinting through the shadows, I falter at the unfamiliarity before me. This is not the home I left. No, this fort now bears a colorful banner above it. The fabric squares have been sown onto the yarn, painstaking proof that this was Adena’s doing. I can’t seem to breathe. Behind the barrier, our belongings have been rearranged. The usual pile of cloth is sorted neatly beside a new blanket and pillow I never got the chance to share with her. Even in the dull light, her vibrance exudes from the space. And I tremble in the presence of it. My knees hit the cobblestone, and I welcome the shock of pain. It’s as if I’d expected her to be sitting there, waiting for me to return from a day of thieving. As if she would phase through our fort and come bounding toward me in search of a sticky bun. As if I didn’t hold Adena’s dying body in my lap or see her blood gushing between my fingers with every glance at my incapable hands. A tear slips down my cheek, splattering the ground with a drop of my anguish. She was waiting for me to come home. Muffled footsteps sound behind me. But she never made it home.

“This alley is taken. You’ll have to find another place to—” I turn to let my teary gaze fall on this stranger. His brown eyes widen with a recognition I don’t share. Strands of black hair fall around strong cheekbones while the rest is pulled back with a loose strap. I blink at the lonely silver streak threading among such darkness, as though a lock of my own hair lives on his head. “It’s you,” he breathes.

“And who are you?” “After all this time, you’re finally back to visit her,” he mutters. Understanding dawns, so blindingly clear I have to blink. “You’re the boy. The one Adena was seeing during the Trials.” He sinks to the cobblestone beside me, and in the morning

His words are a blunt knife to my chest. “I know.” I choke on the emotion in my throat. “It should have been me. Not her.” Those brown eyes bore into mine. “She was coming to see you, long before being summoned as your seamstress. We had it all planned.” “I don’t understand.” My back hits the grimy wall. “How did you two…?” “Hera was my cousin,” the man says dully. “When I discovered how close you and Adena were, I knew she would help me get into the castle, just to see you.” “Then Hera died in the first Trial,” I recall numbly at the memory of Braxton driving a blade through her invisible chest. “And Dena in the last.” I feel the moment my heart shatters, feel the shards of it pierce my lungs until I’m gasping for air. Dena.

She was my A. But she was his Dena.

I doubt this is the monster he expected to face. Instead, a crumpled, crying girl is falling apart before him. “This is all my fault.” I turn my blurry gaze back to the Fort, every bright color a mockery without her here. “She redecorated for me. To surprise me when I got back from the Trials.” Tears are falling in front of this stranger, but I can’t seem to find the will to care. “But it was her who never made it back. And it’s all my fault. This is all my fault—” “I couldn’t save her either.” The stranger sounds choked. It takes that thought for me to realize how much more he is than that. This man is one of the last pieces of Adena. “I… I couldn’t do anything but watch her die.” “You were there for her when I couldn’t be,” I say firmly. “And that was enough.”

I know those pockets. My chin dips. I stare down at my own torn pockets. “She made you a vest.” The stranger now stares at the olive fabric wrapped around me, his dark eyes glassy. “She did.” All the air has left my lungs. Hurt curls around my body, choking until it’s crushing my will, my hope, my heart. I grieve Adena all over again, because I was not the only one she lost. Two great loves were left behind, and both hug what remains of her close to their heart. Tears fall, but I don’t care that my vulnerability is on display. I kneel at the foot of our fort and cry for the girl who once brightened it. The stranger swipes at his cheek but is quick to aim the sharp planes of his face at the ground. “What is your name?” I finally manage to whisper. It takes him a long moment to find an answer. “Mak.” I nod quickly, the action shaking tears from my eyelashes. “Can I…” My voice cracks. “Can I give you a hug, Mak?”

He doesn’t do it for me. I can tell by the tensing of his shoulders. No, he does it for his Dena—my A. We fall into each other, bodies shaking with grief and anger. In his embrace, I understand how someone so rigid and stoic could only be molded by the gentlest of hands. He was drawn in by Adena’s warmth, forever imprinted on by her now-broken sewing fingers. We hold each other, strangers connected by a mutual love. And when Mak finally pulls away, his eyes rimmed with red, a streak of sunshine falls heavily over our kneeling bodies. The beam of light coats us thoroughly enough to dry the tears staining my cheeks. The scar cutting through Mak’s lips curves with a sad smile. “What?” I ask weakly. This man does not look like the type to smile easily, though that may have only been the case before Adena gave him a reason to. He shuts his eyes to bask in the warm light. “Just admiring the sun.”

“I’ve been a bit under the weather recently. It will pass, I’m sure.

“And why would that surprise you?” He pushes away. “You know why.” “Enlighten me,” I challenge. “Because you love her!” The rough admittance seems to startle even him. I stare at Kitt, chest heaving and sword hanging at my side. He clears his throat. “Perhaps more than anything.” My heart pounds—a reminder that each beat belongs to her. “Don’t be ridiculous, Kitty,” I deflect. “She is your bride.” “And I am your brother,” he says quickly. “Always. No matter what.” His tone suggests this is a question I’m meant to answer. This isn’t the first time Kitt has tiptoed around the subject that is our intertwined futures. He wishes to hear that his marriage to Paedyn won’t change anything between us. And for our sake, I will pretend that it hasn’t already. “You and me.” My throat is dry. “Always.”

Two princelings grew into men here, yet we always return to that same string of practiced movements. Kitt smiles slightly behind the flurry of steel, his gaze distant with reminiscence. We follow a pattern, a structure, a memorized sequence of steps. This vicious dance is one we created as boys—and it feels like tranquility.