Page 44 of Powerless

I roll my eyes at the wall in front of me. “Stubborn, remember?”

I hear Kitt chuckle before I feel hands brushing my legs. Startled, I look down, eyes landing on a bent head of messy black waves. Kai is gripping the bottom seam of my dress, his eyes flicking up to mine.

“May I?” His voice is soft, tone amused.

I swallow, roll my eyes once again, and nod against my better judgment.

And then he’s ripping my dress.

He tears the fabric easily, creating a slit up the side of my thigh, freeing me from the tight confines of the fabric. His rough fingers briefly brush my skin as he says, “I am more than willing to rip your dresses for you, Gray. To help, of course.” Kitt snorts while Kai smirks. “You only need to ask.”

“Why ask when you’re so eager to offer?”

Kai’s laughter follows me as I finally pull myself up, arms burning with the strain. When I stand to my feet inside the glass box, I’m relieved to find the chairs are still empty. The thought of seeing the king after the way he so flippantly spoke about my father as if he weren’t his murderer makes my blood boil. Before that dinner, I’d never had to fight the urge to shove a fork through someone’s jugular.

I take a deep breath before stepping out onto the pathway.

The crowd roars.

Here we are.

The Imperials lead us to a small opening in the railing opposite the box, where stairs have been placed for us to get into the Pit below. My feet hit the hard sand of the arena as the crowd cheers, sounding as though the Trials have already begun.

We walk across the large floor of the Pit, stopping in the middle where a makeshift stage rises a few feet off the ground. Ten plush chairs line the back of it while two more are centered in front. The Imperials usher us onto the stage where we take a seat. My gaze catches Lenny’s, and he gives me a reassuring nod before stepping into line with the other Imperials.

“Welcome, fellow Ilyans, to the sixth ever Purging Trials!”

The crowd roars as I snap my head towards the high, female voice. She turns to face us, brown eyes bright with excitement and full, red lips curved into a smile as she takes us in.

Tealah.

Ironic that her bright teal hair matches her name. I’d never seen the young women who conducted the interviews for the previous Trials, but I’ve heard enough about her unique appearance to identify her.

“Oh, but this is no ordinary Trials!” She beams at the crowd, flashing her white teeth. “For the first time in Purging Trials history, we have a future Enforcer competing.” I can almost feel the thousands of eyes shift in Kai’s direction. He’s clearly used to this attention, appearing completely relaxed as he reclines in his chair.

Tealah continues, “And because of that, this year’s Trials will look a little...different.”

The crowd goes wild.

Ellie’s words echo in my head, mirroring the ones Tealah just spoke.

Different.

All because there is royal blood competing? All to make things more difficult for the future Enforcer?

I don’t have time to ponder it more before Tealah says, “Are you ready to meet your Elites?” She flattens her hand to her chest as she speaks, causing her words to carry across the arena. Her ability as an Amplifier allows her to project her voice, as well as the voices of others, so long as she is touching them. A Mundane power, yet useful in this line of work.

The crowd cheers and stomps, mimicking the rumble of thunder. “Why don’t we meet Jax first? Jax, sweetie, would you come sit up here with me?”

Jax plops down in the chair angled towards Tealah at the front of the stage with a shy smile on his face. He fidgets, one of his long legs bouncing on the ground as she pelts him with idle questions about his life and the Trials.

“Er, I like sparring with Kitt. Mostly because he lets me win sometimes. Kai...not so much.” The crowd erupts in laughter at Jax’s response to what he likes most about training for the Trials. He smiles sheepishly at Tealah, his grin widening when he shifts in his seat to spot Kai’s quick shrug.

“Isn’t he just adorable?” Tealah flashes a smile at the crowd before asking, “Tell me, Jax, how old are you again?”

Tealah’s hand rests on his shoulder, amplifying his answer. “Fifteen.”

Plagues, he’s so young.

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