Page 50 of Fearless

I’m stunned by the sinking bite of bitterness. This shock of envy is quickly swallowed by my resolve, focused only on being rid of this crowd. Seeing her. I push through the shifting bodies, unburdened by the need to be polite.

Murmurs grow into a gentle roar even before the royal couple steps from the throne room. It’s difficult to shove against the shocked sea of people now milling mindlessly about. But I’m nearly at the door now and—

A hand tugs at my arm.

I turn to find Andy looking alarmingly serious. “Don’t steal her away from him when they finally get a moment together.”

Unspoken words hang in the air between us. The corner of my mouth twitches. “I don’t need to steal her away.”

“No,” she says smoothly. “You just kick down her door when she isn’t answering you.”

My voice is low. “Don’t start, Andy.”

She shakes her head at me, saddened by what she sees. “They’re engaged, Kai. You can’t have her.”

“Yes, and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to accept that fact.”

I turn away and push through the doors.

They are standing in the hallway, bodies close and voices hushed.

Her eyes meet mine over Kitt’s shoulder.

I quicken my pace. Smother my jealousy. And open my damn mouth.

CHAPTER 20Paedyn

The crown grows heavy on my head.

I can’t imagine the neck pain royals must endure. Though, it seems I’ll find out firsthand.

My arm is pressed tightly within Kitt’s, but he doesn’t seem to shy away from the blood and dirt I mar his pristine tunic with.

Eyes, so many of them, skimming over my disheveled body.

I’ve never let myself bleed in front of so many Elites. Never let them see me so weak. And for that reason, I keep my head high and gaze forward.

Pain laces every movement, slows each step. I force my aching body to keep up its charade until I’ve made it out the doors. My legs shake, barely able to support me after my long trek through the city. But Kitt’s arm is a comfort, a disguised source of support that I lean on heavily.

The doors loom, as does the prospect of relief. Every head turns to follow us out of the throne room, and it’s only when the countless pairs of eyes are sealed from sight that I slump fully against Kitt.

“Just a little farther,” he murmurs, his arm now wrapped around me. “Let’s get you to the wall.”

I let him guide me, and even more difficult, let him see me struggle. His hold is hesitant and hovering, as if unsure how much he wishes to help. It’s unfamiliar, his touch. So unlike the claiming feel of his brother’s.

The crown slips atop my bloody strands of hair, the ones I’m trying very hard to ignore. Kitt’s face ducks toward mine when I slump against the wall. He sounds as unsure as he looks. “Are you all right?”

I nearly rasp out a laugh. “You know, I’ve been better.”

He almost smiles at that. “You were…” He clears his throat, rebuilding that indifferent distance between us. “You did well in there.”

“I was just trying not to fall on my face,” I pant.

“No need for that.” He glances over my battered form. “You’re wearing enough blood as it is.”

I swallow. “You have no idea.”

Despite the heavy feel of his gaze roaming my face, I avoid it. Understanding my unspoken desire for a change of topic, he states, “You retrieved the crown.”

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