Page 87 of Powerless

It’s terrifying.

“What’s the fun in winning by default?” I say instead. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I took your leather and left you to die?”

She lifts her head off the ground, eyes searching mine as she scoffs, “So you’re telling me, that you did all of this to be agentlemanly?”

“Why does that come as such a surprise to you?”

“Maybe because you have to be agentlemanto begentlemanly.”

“And who says I’m not?”

“I’d like to find someone who says youare.”

I smile at her, taking in every detail of her face beneath mine. I open my mouth to say something witty and wildly inappropriate when a twig snaps to my left. A Sight watches us with glazed eyes, documenting the scene before him. And I’m embarrassed that I have no idea how long he has been standing there, not with how distracted I was with the girl before me.

I can only imagine what Father will make of this—of us. Of me helping, saving,enjoyingbeing with the girl from the slums.

Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve disappointed him, and it certainly won’t be the last.

The Sight blinks, clearing his blurry eyes before disappearing into the night. I turn back towards Paedyn, her attention still fixed on the spot where the man once was. Then I look down at her exposed stomach, and the wound now completely stitched there.

I begin wrapping the remains of her large shirt over the wound and around her waist. Paedyn’s eyes follow my movements, tracking my hands and tracing my face.

“You never did answer my question,” I say far more casually than I currently feel.

“You’ll have to be more specific than that, Azer.”

“I asked who the hell did this to you.”

She laughs dismissively, turning her head from mine. “Oh, that question. It doesn’t matter.”

“If it doesn’t matter, then tell me.”

She shoots me an annoyed look before she sighs, giving in. “Ace. Happy now? He used his illusions to draw me in.” She’s suddenly pale again. “He made me see...things.”

I’ve never seen her look so haunted, and I’m shocked by how much I hate it. “Did you kill him?”

“No,” she says softly. “No, I didn’t kill him.”

We fall silent, and I run my hand over her crude bandage, making sure it’s secure as she stares at me. Then I hand her the water canteen before forcing her to choke down some burnt rabbit.

I busy myself around the small camp, and when I look back at Paedyn from where I stoke the flames of the dying fire, her lids are drooping, eyelashes fluttering with the promise of sleep. Then I catch her shiver slightly in the brisk, night breeze.

Well that just won’t do.

I kneel beside her, scooping her into my arms before pulling her off the ground and carrying her closer to the fire. She grunts groggily against my chest before I lay her down on the packed dirt, watching her chest rise and fall with steady breaths, so unlike the ragged, shallow ones she choked on earlier.

And then I sit there. I can’t seem to tear my eyes away as she drifts to sleep beside the fire, alive and breathing deeply. She shakes again, making me wish I had a blanket to offer her, hadsomethingto offer her. The truth of that thought hits me like a blow to the gut.

I have nothing to offer her.

I am wrong, so wrong for her. She is too brave, too bold, too bloodygoodfor me. Maybe I could be a better man. Maybe I could be more like Kitt with his heart on his sleeve and happiness on display. Maybe the future Enforcer could break down a few walls, become a man who is more than the masks he wears around his people.

But ever since she discovered I was the prince and declared usenemies, I’ve played along, not wanting to be outdone. And it’s fun. It’s a distraction for the both of us, the toying and teasing with one another.

But now?

If I am to be her enemy, I want it to be because she loathes herself for wanting me.

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