Page 132 of Powerless

“Malakai.”

Our eyes snap to the queen now standing a few feet away, a pleasant smile on her stunning features. “Do share her with the other gentleman, won’t you?”

“She’s mine for the night, Mother.” Kai’s eyes are back on me. “A small price to pay for ruining my clothes.”

But the queen is gone, whisked away by chattering guests and dancing figures before the words even left Kai’s mouth.

I blink at him, unable to stop the smile spreading across my lips. “Your name isMalakai?”

“Yes, well, I’ve also been called devilishly handsome, devastatingly powerful, and more recently, a cocky bastard.”

“Whoever called you that must know you quite well.”

“Yes, more than I care to admit,” he says quietly. The drone of violins fills the silence that stretches between us. When he finally speaks, Kai’s question is quiet. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

I’m reminded of Kitt’s same question at the previous ball as I say, “Are you?”

He exhales slowly. “I have to be.”

There’s a long pause.

The smile I give him is sad. “That’s not what I asked.”

“Smartass,” he mutters under his breath, managing to truly make me smile. “The truth then?”

“The truth always.”

“Then no. I’m not ready,” he sighs, ducking his head close to mine. “But we’ll be fine. We always are.”

I nod numbly, not needing him to explain what he means. Both of our lives have been a series of trials that we’ve had to survive. Only now, we are going through one together, one we will fight our way out of just as we’ve done in the past.

As if to emphasize his words, he reaches up and flicks the tip of my nose, sharing that smile of his with me. And rather than pushing him away like I know I should, I find myself smiling back.

We settle into a comfortable silence as we spin. The garden is now bathed in moonlight, and lamps are flickering warm light over the faces swirling beside us.

Kai suddenly dips me, his fingers grazing the bare skin peeking between the slit of my dress before lazily gliding up the cool dagger resting upon my hot skin. I bite back a surprised yelp while he only laughs. “Didn’t I tell you that daggers aren’t needed for dancing?”

He places me back on my feet as I breathlessly reply, “Depends on who your partner is.”

I hate that he makes me feel like I’m always trying to catch my breath.

And what I hate even more is that he knows it.

I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.

I drill those words into my head, forcing them through my thick skull. I refuse to get caught up inhim.

He must be able to see the battle raging in my brain because he grins at me.

Dimples.

Thosedamndimples.

I’m practically panting now, trying to breathe, trying to ignore this boy in front of me. Trying to ignore his dazzling smiles and difficult past I now know so much about. His caring and charming side, the little things that make up him,his hands that are on me—

I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.

Gray eyes flick between mine, worry reflecting in them. “Is everything alright?”

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