Page 139 of Fearless

His smile is so equally familiar and earnest. “No chance, Kai Pie. I need you with me.”

The doors begin to slowly uncurl, revealing a sliver of the court within. We face them, the kingdom, the life we have been thrown into, just as we have everything else—together.

Kitt glances sidelong at me. He smiles wider.

I grin back.

“Ready for your resurrection?” he murmurs.

I take a breath. “So long as you’re here to help me survive this time.”

The doors fly open, and gasps echo through the room.

Every gaze is pinned to the walking corpse among them. I learned many years ago not to grow flustered beneath scrutiny, so I slip a mask over my features, smothering any emotion that isn’t indifference. Shocked whispers follow my every step, disbelief nipping at my heels.

Reaching the dais, Kitt turns to greet the stunned court. “Good afternoon. I trust you are all thoroughly surprised at the sight of your Enforcer after witnessing Paedyn’s final Trial in the Bowl.” The king rests a firm hand on my shoulder. “It seems you all needed to be reminded that Kai Azer is the strongest Elite among us. His death will not come so easily.”

The crowd erupts, cheers rippling throughout the throne room. It’s likely out of fear that they celebrate, concerned by what I might do to them.

“They don’t need to believe you. They need only to fear you.”

Kitt’s words ring true, but it’s Father’s voice I hear saying them.

I stand there, pretending as though I am a man whom Death himself fears. And all it cost me was the torture of watching myself nearly kill Paedyn. Witnessing my deepest fear come to life while I tried uselessly to claw my way to her.

The court claps for me, shouting praises deserving of a hero. And they know better than most that I am anything but. Even so, I offer a slight nod of my head and—

The doors swing open.

Every head turns toward the rumbling sound. Gazes widen when they land on her face, gawk when they glance below it. I can hardly help but do the same, though, for very different reasons.

She stands there, draped in emerald green. It spills down her body in dozens of layers before billowing around her feet and draping behind her heels. The gown hugs her waist tightly, climbing up her body in a strapless corset.

And there, on display above her beating heart, is the king’s carving.

Paedyn’s spine is straight beneath the crushing weight of eyes against her chest. The mangledOsits crudely atop her smooth skin, the scar flowing grimly into the slice down her neck.

Boldly, she casts her own scrutiny over the crowd. Vulnerably, she shows those who hate her the one thing she hates most about herself. And unashamedly, they stare.

Hushed whispers drift through the crowd, forcing the king to cut through their gossip loudly. “Your future queen, Paedyn Gray.”

Kitt has always worn his emotions blatantly—a quality I equally admire and envy. So when I look over at him, finding an unsurprised expression on his face, I realize that this isn’t the first time he’s witnessed the cruelty our father engraved on Paedyn.

A prick of jealousy, hurt, even, slips beneath my unbothered mask. I’m not entirely sure why, perhaps because I know that scar to be incredibly intimate to her. Something that she fought to keep me from finding, only to willingly bare herself to my brother.

But of course she would. They are betrothed. This is only the beginning.

Paedyn strides across the marble floor, splitting the now silent court.Emerald fabric flows behind her with every step toward the dais. She holds her head high, silver hair brushing tanned shoulders while that scar tugs at the skin below.

Her foot reaches the first step, and those blue eyes crash into mine. The look she gives me is sharp—same as it always has been and likely always will be. Because no matter how much our feelings grow or confessions spew, we will always remain precisely as we are. I will tease her until my dying breath, spar until I’m buried six feet beneath her feet.

I am forever her rival, and I revel in it.

She turns to face the court, every bit the queen they made her become. Her gaze falls to Kitt, just as it will for the rest of our lives. He offers her a slight dip of his head, encouraging her mouth to open and—

“So, the Ordinary couldn’t kill him.”

My eyes snap to the crowd, landing on a man who must long to meet Death. “That means”—he raises a hand toward the dais—“she didn’t even complete the Trial. It was to the death, was it not?”

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