Page 53 of Fearless

I shake my head, gaze lingering on the splotch of blood soiling his chest, the place where he had pressed my palms. “I don’t want to stain your soul further.”

His smile is sad. “There’s not much left to stain, darling.”

It takes all of three swipes with the cloth before he’s changing the subject. His words hold a certain challenge as he says, “What about striding across the throne room? Seeing the looks on all those faces when you put that crown on your head?” The gaze he flicks over me is heavy. “Did you enjoy that?”

“I…”

I loved it.

What I settle on instead is “I didn’t mind it.”

He wipes a streak of mud from my jaw, brushing the jagged scar below it. “Come on, don’t be modest, Gray.”

“Fine.” My gaze settles on his. “Powerful. It made me feel powerful.”

“Good,” he breathes. “Focus on that feeling. Not what it took to get to it.”

My fingers find his free hand. “I don’t want to gain power if it means I lose myself in the process.”

He wipes the cloth down my nose, freeing it of blood before flicking the tip with his finger. “Everyone loses themselves to something. So make it worthwhile.”

I let him tilt my head in the dim light. He dabs gently at a bead of dried blood clinging to my temple. “And what did you lose yourself to?”

“Duty. Loyalty.” His lips quirk. “A silver-haired pain in the ass.”

I lean back on my palms, studying him. “And you think that’s worth it? Losing yourself to an Ordinary?”

As he drops the cloth from my face, I can’t quite read his mixture of emotions. “Between the two of us, you’re the only one who seems to care about that fact.”

I straighten swiftly, enough to have Kai’s hands flattening on my thighs to ensure I stay on the bed. “Of course I care.” My voice is rough, raw with emotion. “I’m weak. I nearly died today and—” I place a hand to his cheek, turning his face toward me. “Look at me, Kai. Look at what you chose to lose yourself to. I may have seemed strong in that throne room, but I will always be an impostor among the truly powerful.”

He’s shaking his head, hiding his gaze from me. Both of my hands are cupping his face now. “I worry about you, Malakai.” The sound of his full name has those gray eyes fluttering closed. “If I die—”

“Stop.”

“If I die,” I repeat sternly, “I need you to find something else worth losing yourself to. I won’t let my impending death be yours as well.” I press my forehead to his, voice breaking as I say, “Promise me that. Please.”

“Pae.” His voice is ragged. “I would lose my life for you before finding something else worth living for.” His fingers weave into my hair, slide along the back of my neck. “You are my inevitable. In life and in death.”

Tears cloud my vision, one of them slipping down my cheek when our mouths meet. He holds me gently, his kiss soft enough to shatter every wall within me. I crumble in his arms. Nothing has ever tasted as sweet as the silent promise on his lips.

You are my inevitable.

The kiss deepens, and with it, a plea with each press of my mouth.

I love you.

I tell him in the sigh he draws from my lips. In every slow caress across his skin. In every pounding beat of the heart that belongs to him.

I love you.

He smells of pine and spice and long nights under the willow.

I love you.

He tastes like a secret I wish to scream, a word on the tip of my tongue that will never be mine to utter. So I say his name instead, as if I could claim him so easily. As if I’m not thinking of three damning words when I say it.

I love you.

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