Page 48 of Fearless

He watches me choke, smiling at the sight. I claw at his hand, kick at his legs. With blurry vision, I find whatever fight is left inside me. Whatever sliver of my soul begs to stay in this life. And with that lastwrinkle of resolve, folded deep inside my crumpled being, I drive my knee into his groin.

His hand slips from my throat as he doubles over, allowing me time to slide away from the wall. My own bloody hand closes around the back of his bowed neck. I don’t let myself think as I slam his head against the cave wall, again and again.

Blood sprays from the impact, splattering my face in that sickly warmth of another’s life. It’s animalistic, this need to stay alive, to tear apart anything that stands between me and my next breath. The growl in my throat does not belong to me, nor do the hands that repeatedly sink a skull into stone.

When the red fades from my vision, I let his limp body fall to my feet.

Adena’s warmth returns shyly, as though her very memory does not recognize the creature I’ve become. I’m shaking, every part of me trembling in fear of what I’ve done. In fear ofmyself.

A sort of numbness creeps over me as I step around the still bodies. The crown sits innocently on the ground, despite some of the gems being coated with blood. It glitters beside the body adorning my dagger. My stomach churns at his vacant gaze, wide with the shock of Death’s swift arrival.

I look away before yanking the blade from his chest. And with the crown’s sharp points fitted between my fingers, I turn toward my awaiting freedom.

Keeping my gaze forward, I don’t dare look down at the stone floor now slicked with blood. Instead, I focus on that starry night, ahead and beckoning. I trip over my own feet in anticipation of the open sky.

Scrambling from the cave’s gaping mouth, I fall to my knees on the rocky path. A crazed laugh bubbles out of me as I tilt my head to the sky. Moonbeams stroke my face as a soft breeze tangles my filthy hair. I swipe a hand over my face, smearing mud, blood, and the sticky residue of guilt.

But I’m laughing again, strained yet relieved.

Adena’s light, however dim, is returning to my soul.

I am alive. I, an Ordinary, survived a Trial. Again.

My eyes fall to the long path ahead, and the comforting field of poppies beyond. Farther still is the city I’ll have to trudge through before marching into the castle, crown in hand. I lift my crazed gaze to the moon, unsure how much time I have before midnight.

With that sense of urgency returning to my weary mind, I force shaking legs to stand beneath me. Soon after, I’m quickening my pace—body sore, but hope swelling.

With every step, I grow closer to becoming a queen.

With every step, I grow closer to a united Ilya.

CHAPTER 19Kai

My foot taps a steady beat against the marble floor.

Members of the court mill about the throne room, having used the last three hours as an excuse to drink and sloppily trade gossip among themselves. The countdown to midnight has become nothing more than an exclusive party of Elites.

Forgotten goblets of wine litter every flat surface, while others can be found sloshing in the hands of noble men and women. Scanning the room and what obvious boredom fills it, I take a sip of my own wine, savoring the biting sweetness on the back of my tongue. I’ve been leaning against a towering pillar for more than an hour now, content to stay tucked within the chaos.

After my visit with Mother, I reluctantly joined the court to restlessly await Paedyn’s arrival. My wandering gaze continually returns to the large doors at the opposite end of the throne room in the hopes she will stride through them. Because the alternative would mean that something happened to her, and I simply refuse to entertain that spiraling thought.

I will her to walk through those doors. If not for this kingdom, then for me. I need her to come back tome. She is willingly my weakness, and yet, nothing has ever made me stronger. And I fear what I will become if—

“You’ve been staring at the doors since you got here.”

I turn to face a grinning Jax, his hands shoved into the pockets of too-short pants. “Not the whole time,” I state smoothly. “I’ve managed to catch you sneaking sips of wine from Andy’s glass.”

His grin shifts, suddenly sheepish. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I cross fidgeting arms over my chest, chuckling. “Really? Why don’t you go ahead and walk in a straight line for me, then?”

The mere question has him swaying on his feet. “Because… maybe I don’t want to.” He leans against the pillar in a comical attempt at nonchalance.

“At least one of us is having a good time.” I sigh out the words, my gaze straying back to the doors.

“I could finish that for you,” Jax says, pointing to the cup in my hand. “I mean, if you’re not going to…”

I tilt my head against the cool marble. “What the hell,” I mumble, handing the goblet to him. “It’s not doing me any good—” He’s tipped his head back, greedily gulping the wine despite a ribbon of it dribbling down his chin to stain the dark skin beneath.

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