Page 116 of Fearless

I push the sword into her palm, our bodies close. “Maybe I miss it.”

Her smile is wicked. “Maybe you’ll have another opportunity to lose soon.”

My answer is lost in the sound of steel slicing wood. She rains down blows upon the already mutilated bedpost. Again and again, the sword sinks into the shredded wood, spraying splinters in its wake.

I grab her arm, stilling the strained muscles there before she can swing again. Silver hair flicks me in the face when she whirls, cheeks pink with anger. “What?”

Her tone is biting, meant to ward me off with a single word. But she doesn’t scare me away—I almost wish she could. Life would be so much easier if I didn’t want to spend it with her. But nothing so stunningly formidable could go unwanted.

“Pae.” I let her see the concern on my face. Let her see the devotion it derives from. Let her see everything I am not and the little that I am. “What is really going on?”

Her lashes flutter. I watch that blue gaze sink to my chest and stare blankly. “I killed her. I… I was a monster. Her skin was melting beneath my palm and still I—” She sucks in a breath. “I have never been so vicious. It was terrifying, this person I became. This darkness swelling within me. And worst of all”—she chokes—“it didn’t help.”

My heart aches in a way it only ever will for her. “I know.”

“I thought it would help this hurt,” she whispers. “This hole in my heart where Adena used to be. But it’s still there.” Her eyes lift, brimming with tears. “Just as gaping as it was the day she died in my arms.”

“I know,” I say again, hating the hurt on her face.

“It didn’t bring her back.” The sword clatters to the floor, her tears falling with it. “I’ll never get her back.”

I wrap my arms around her trembling body, pressing my mouth to the top of her head. “I know, love.”

Tears soak through my shirt, and yet she barely makes a sound. I hold her tightly, running a hand down her damp hair and the back stretching beneath. She melts against me, soothed by the touch and many murmurs against her hair.

But when my body goes rigid, she lifts her tear-streaked face toward mine. “What is it?”

Power bubbles beneath my skin, one so familiar I almost don’t notice it. “Kitt’s coming.”

“What?” She blinks before peeling herself away from me. “Here? Now?”

I lower my voice. “Yes, and quickly.”

His Dual ability is one I’ve memorized since I was a boy, could pick out from a crowd. But dwelling on it now, something feels indescribablyoff.

“Well,” she sputters. “What do we do?”

My eyes flick to the wardrobe.

She gives me a dull look. “You can’t be serious.”

“Would you like your betrothed to find you in here with me?”

Her frustrated groan is followed by an exiling into the wardrobe. Paedyn glares as I shove her among my clothes, tears momentarily forgotten. She picks up a particularly bright shirt and raises a brow. “I’ve never seen you wear this.”

“That would be because it belongs to Jax,” I say quickly. “I’m winning a bet. Don’t worry about it.”

With a slight scoff and shake of her head, I begin shutting the doors on her face. “Oh,” I add quietly. “Try not to step on my shoes. I just got them shined.”

I can practically feel the roll of her eyes even after a thick layer ofwood separates us. But I’ve barely managed to pick up the strewn sword before my door creaks open.

Kitt steps hesitantly into the room. “Oh, good. You’re awake.”

I lift the sword in answer. “Just blowing off some steam.”

“Right.” The king seems distracted. “Well, I just wanted to stop in and let you know that the third Trial will be taking place tomorrow.”

My eyes widen in surprise, just as I know Paedyn’s are behind me. “Tomorrow? You’re not announcing it to the court?”

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