Page 24 of Fearless

I turn toward the voice, finding Kai’s concerned gaze on me. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” I say calmly. “Just reminiscing.”

His eyes climb over my shoulder then, and I can see the exact moment he realizes what it is I’m talking about. A cool mask slips over his features, concealing what I know to be that terrifying, icy rage simmering beneath. His mouth opens, perhaps to ask who it was that stood over my crumpled body and let the whip crack. Perhaps the Enforcer will demand to know how many times I found myself at that post or, better yet, admit how he never noticed the scars on my back despite running his hands over them plenty of times, damn the king sitting beside me.

But I never find out what it was he meant to say.

Instead, he dives over me when the explosions erupt.

I’m thrown against the floor of the coach, Kitt toppling beside me as Kai’s body shields the both of us. My ears ring from the impact, drowning out the screams I know echo all around. Lifting my cheek from the dirty floor, I blink blurry, watering eyes. The burst of light momentarilyblinded me, but as my vision slowly returns, muffled sound follows.

Screams. Pained, guttural screams rip through the ringing in my ears. I bolt upward, pushing at the limbs pinning me down. I know it’s his calloused hand that wraps around my wrist even before the order leaves his lips. “Stay down!”

I barely hear his shout over the chaos consuming us, over the deafening panic rising within me.

What the hell is happening?

I must have croaked these words aloud because Kai is suddenly answering, “Bombs. Man-made.” Then he’s barking orders once again, morphing back into the Enforcer he was created to be.

My head pounds, whether from the impact or from my racing thoughts, I’m not sure. Each breath comes in quick, shallow pants.

Who is behind this?

Kai’s orders, once muffled and distant, grow clearer. “On me!” I can see nothing but the billowing black smoke wafting above the coach, but know enough to determine he’s just assigned a group of Imperials to surround the king and his future bride.

He looks down at me then, eyes flicking between my wide ones. “Stay here. You’re going to be fine.” He doesn’t let himself linger any longer before jumping from the coach and into the thick smoke.

I shudder when another explosion shakes the coach, followed by an eruption of screams all around. Horses bolt past in a panicked trance, free to weave through the chaos without their riders. Sitting up suddenly, I meet Kitt’s worried gaze. Imperials surround us, acting as a shield against the horrors beyond. Kitt remains stiffly on the floor, following the orders of his Enforcer. And rightfully so. He is the king, after all.

But I am no queen. Not yet.

All I can smell is burning flesh and thick smoke. All I can hear are terrified screams and the thudding of my heart. All I can think is thatthis is my home. These were my people long before I was told to rule over them. These screaming Slummers chose me to go into the Purging Trials, because they saw hope for one of them to become something more.

And I have become so much more.

I offer one last look at my betrothed. He must see it in my eyes—the hurt, the determination, the tangible need to do something other than sit here.

“Paedyn, don’t—”

I jump from the coach before his hand is able to grasp my own.

The circle of Imperials have their backs to us, and I don’t hesitate before sweeping the feet out from under one blocking my path. He falls with a thud, allowing me to bolt past despite the shouts ringing out behind.

I skid to a stop at the horror surrounding me.

Chunks of stone careen from crumbling buildings lining the street, shattering atop the cobblestones, and tearing screams from the throats of scuttling figures. Flames lick over dozens of carts to melt coins and burn the livelihoods atop them.

I spin slowly, taking in the street I once called home. Bodies scatter the ground, some twitching while others lie stone-still. A shaky hand rises to cover my mouth and the sob growing within it. Blood paints the street, blending with the fire to create a horrific depiction of death itself.

I don’t know what to do, how to help—

A soft whimper sounds beside me.

I whirl, finding a bloody boy staring up at me mere steps away. I’m skidding to his side, sinking to my knees in the pool of blood surrounding him. His pale skin is sheened with sweat, breaths shallow beneath the crimson bubbling from his chest.

A shard from a nearby building is wedged between his ribs.

I swallow my sob and place shaking hands around the wound, tryingto stall the blood as best I can. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, tears stinging my eyes. “I’m so sorry. You’re… you’re going to be okay.”

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