Page 5 of Fearless

It feels as though the ground is caving in beneath me. Why couldn’t we have just stayed in that field of poppies? I would spend the rest of mydays making her flower crowns if she wanted to be a queen.Myqueen. Not Kitt’s. Not Ilya’s.Mine.

My eyes trace over her, tracking each movement. Kitt dismisses the court, quieting every conversation with a wave of his hand. In that moment, that single movement, I see our father. It’s as though he is the one standing before this court, and Kitt is nothing more than his shadow.

This king is not the same one I left a fortnight ago.

This king is collected and calm and conscious of every move he makes.

But just as it always does, my gaze trails back to Paedyn. She is making her way across the room now, spine stiff and eyes straight ahead, fixed on the maid awaiting her beside the towering doors still several yards away. Sneers follow her every step as she strides through the crowd. Dozens of disgusted faces close in on her, growing bolder by the second. And I’m already moving before a man steps into her path.

He leans close enough to subtly mutter his vile comment, but the spittle flying from his mouth to splatter her freckles doesn’t go unnoticed. I shove the man away from her so forcefully that I vaguely wonder whether I let a Brawny ability slip to the surface. The reckless action has me suddenly standing between Paedyn and the man who so clearly has a death wish. Stepping forward, I tower over him, ignoring the gasping crowd surrounding the scene I’ve made. Because the truth is, I don’t give a damn about what this court thinks of me. And my reputation sure as hell can’t get any worse.

“So much as breathe on her again,” I snarl, “and I’ll ensure it’s the last time you ever do.”

“No.”

Her voice cuts through every crazed thought, washing over me as though relief itself is nothing more than the mere presence of her. Paedyn steps beside me, her gaze unwaveringly set on the now ghostly pale man. “No,” she repeats, voice lethal. “Iwill be the one to ensure that thenext breath you take to insult me, or my people, will be the very last one you ever taste. And it will be me, an Ordinary, that ends your Elite life.”

She stares at him, looking as though formidability is woven into the very fiber of her being. My ears ring in the sudden silence smothering the throne room. Every eye is pinned on her, every jaw slackened by her words.

My future queen has just made her first decree.

That damn ring is going to slip off her finger with how terribly her hands are shaking.

I follow her out the double doors, fleeing the stifling throne room and gossiping court within. She quickens her pace down the plush halls, and I can only imagine how out of place we look among the emerald embellishments. The Enforcer—half-naked and wrapped in bandages—and the king’s betrothed—bloody and dipped in a layer of grime.

“Paedyn,” I call, lengthening my strides.

That only has her skidding around another corner. I sigh, trying again. “Pae, wait.”

She stops, suddenly. Shakily. Even at my distance, I see her shoulders tremble, hear the shuddering of her breath. She braces a steadying hand against the wall, and I’m about to call out again when a swarm of people spill into the hallway behind.

Shit.

I need to think fast, need to get Paedyn out of here before the entire court finds their future queen gasping for air in the hallway. Plague knows they would credit her panic to her weakened, Ordinary blood.

My eyes land on a door occupying the same wall Paedyn is currently slumped against before doing the only thing I can think of.

“All right, up you go,” I murmur before scooping her legs into my arms and slinging the rest of her over my shoulder.

This manages to get her attention. It’s as though I’ve awakened a slumbering beast. “What the hell—?” She wriggles in my hold, nails biting into the bare skin of my back. “Put. Me. Down.”

I head for the door, a flood of voices following. “Tempting, but I’m a bit busy saving your ass at the moment.” She can’t see the smirk that twitches my lips, but I’m sure she hears it in my voice when I add, “Speaking of ass, how’s the view back there, Gray?”

“Nauseating,” she bites out.

I whip open the door and step inside. “You know I can see your left foot twitch, yes?”

She grumbles incoherently in response to her betraying limb before nearly smacking her lolling head against the door I close.

Darkness swallows every inch of the small space.

I set her gently on the floor before me, feeling her breath tickle my heated skin. My hands linger over the shape of her. Calluses catch on the thin fabric of her shirt, dragging it up as my palms slide over her hips. I can’t see the shape of her in this pressing darkness, so I’ll simply have to settle with feeling every inch of it.

Her voice is breathy in a way that has me gripping her tighter. “Where are we?”

“Likely a forgotten broom closet,” I mutter. “Couldn’t have the entire court seeing their future queen in shambles, now, could we?”

The words were intended to tease, but they tear through my teeth, biting and bitter. And I regret them the moment I feel her body tremble beneath my hands. “Hey,” I amend gently, pulling at the hem of her shirt until she stumbles against me. “Talk to me.”

---