Page 83 of Powerless

“What, that’s it? You’re just going to shoot me?” His lips twitch. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Oh, it’ll be fun for me, I assure you.” My voice is shaky. I’m shaky.

Kai takes another step towards me, cocking his head to the side. His hands are casually in his pockets as he looks me over again. “I’m confused. You do realize that the point of this Trial is to take my band, correct?” His smirk grows. “Or at leasttry.”

“Well, I’m letting you off easy by allowing you toleave.” The words don’t sound threatening in the slightest. I’m swaying on my feet now, head spinning.

I can’t do this for much longer.

I can feel the hot blood running down my stomach from my torn wound, and black dots are swimming in front of my eyes, threatening to swallow me whole.

I’m going to pass out. What if I don’t wake up? What if die because I wasn’t strong enough? Because I’m a weak Ordinary—

“Gray...?”

Between my drooping eyelids, I can see Kai take a hesitant step towards me, all amusement wiped from his face. And I must truly be hallucinating because I think I see worry flickering in his gaze.

“Gray, what happened?” He’s stepping slowly towards me, but I can’t keep my hold on the bow any longer. For a reason I can’t explain, I aim at the ground instead of him, releasing my grip on the string and letting the arrow fly into the dirt at his feet before the bow slips from my sweaty hand.

I can barely hear Kai’s shout through the ringing in my ears. “Gray!”

I don’t remember hitting the ground.

My face connects with the packed earth, but I barely feel it. My whole body is on fire, hardly breathing as I burn from the inside out.

“Paedyn! Hey, Pae, look at me.”

Rough hands are gripping the sides of my face, forcing my eyes to flutter open. They feel cold against my fevered skin, now slick with sweat, and concern is written all over the beautiful face hovering over me. I’ve never seen him so worried, so full of emotion. His cool mask has cracked, shattered, splintered into a million pieces as he lifts my head off the ground, pulling me towards him to search my face with wide, gray eyes.

And then he’s gone. Darkness.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Calloused hands are pushing the damp hair off my forehead while words are muttered close to my face. “Pae, stay with me.” His voice is stern despite the panic lacing each word.

Slowly, I force my eyes to crack open while I croak out quiet words through cracked lips, words that suddenly seem so important. “You’ve never called me that before.”

I’ve only ever heard him say my real name once when he had me pinned against an alley wall while he tested the word out for the first time. But I haven’t heard my name slip past his lips since. Haven’t heard the way the two syllables sound rolling of his tongue.

And I’ve certainly never heard him call mePae.

I’m smiling up at him now, grinning like an idiot. I can’t stop. Delusional. I’m completely and undeniably delusional.

But in this moment, I don’t want to die—if only so I could hear him say my name one more time.

Delirious. I’m so very delirious.

He’s suddenly still. His eyes roam over my face, lips slightly parted as he takes me in. Then he blinks. Once. Twice. His dark lashes flutter, gray eyes flicking between mine as he says, “Remind me to make you smile like that again, when you aren’t dying, and I have all the time in the world to memorize it.”

Now it’s my turn to blink at him. Once. Twice.

That comment was all it took to wake me up because now my eyes don’t seem to want to stray from his. I must have heard him wrong. I’m so delirious that my mind is playing tricks on me, playing with my emotions, my feelings.

But I’m certainlynotimagining the hands that are running up my body. I nearly choke on my ragged breath when his fingers brush my ankles, slowly running up each of my legs.

He’s trying to find the wound.I open my mouth to tell him where it is, but my head is spinning and I’m on the verge of passing out from the pain. I breathe heavily, trying to calm my pounding head and heart.

His fingers pass over my legs, gently poking and prodding as he searches for the wound. Once he’s satisfied that my legs are functioning just fine, his hands slide up to my hips, lifting me slightly off the ground to run a hand over my lower back. His brows are knit in concentration as his fingers feel over my lower stomach, his movements swift, steady, sure. This isn’t the first time he’s done this.

His hands slide up my abdomen, around my waist—

---