Page 11 of Powerful

‘I certainly hope you’re not accusing me.’ Her eyes are wide, her frown impressive. ‘Trust me, I would love to eat Loot out of their supply of sticky buns.’ She looks me up and down, coming to a profound conclusion. ‘Now it makes sense why you’re so grumpy.’

‘Ah, yes.’ My voice is dull. ‘My lack of ingested sticky buns. You’ve finally figured it out.’

But her attention is back on the crumpled paper inher hand. ‘Okay, get me five and a half yards of white fabric, just to be safe. You’re much taller than my typical model – which would be Pae.’ She shoves the parchment into my palm. ‘Oh, and don’t get the cheap fabric that unravels. This needs to look real, so get polyester.’

I blink as though that is question enough. ‘And why aren’t you coming with me?’

‘Because,’ she says slowly, her tone suggesting this is obvious, ‘I have things to prepare. And a pre-sewing ritual, if you will.’

I suddenly feel a pounding headache coming on. ‘Of course you do.’ I quickly pull on my shirt before walking towards the door. ‘Don’t break anything.’

Her shout follows me out into the alley. ‘Only if you get me a new needle!’

CHAPTER 4Adena

I’m snooping.

A dangerous concoction of boredom and curiosity made me do it. After organizing my notes and calculating measurements, there was nothing left to do but poke around the messy collection of Mak’s life.

I avoid the more personal side of the shop he lives in, though I study the bed and cabinets from afar. Oddly enough, it’s his impressive assortment of weapons that intrigues me the most. I’m causing quite the commotion, clanking steel together and running my hands over everything in sight.

And then I gasp.

And that gasp is followed by a very unpleasant stinging.

Blood pools in my palm.

A crooked slice mars the center of my hand, spilling scarlet across my skin. The culprit lies on one of the many shelves straining beneath the weight of countless tools, its sharp blade buried harmlessly among them. I’ve barely held a dagger, let alone been sliced open by one. In fact, the most I’ve ever interacted with a blade has been when I hand Paedyn hers.

I’m considering dashing out the door and fleeing the kingdom. I haven’t known Mak for long, but I do know that he will hardly be sympathetic. He’ll likely mock and—

The door swings open, as though I’ve summoned him with my stupidity.

‘I don’t know what polyester is, but this shit better be that because it sure as hell wasn’t cheap.’

I spin to face him, pushing my bloody hand behind my back. Tugging on a smile, I glance at the white bundle in his arms. Without warning, he’s suddenly striding towards me, swallowing the space between us.

‘Go on.’ He nods down to the fabric. ‘Make sure this is what you wanted.’

Swallowing, I pull the uninjured hand from behind my back while trying to ignore the biting sting of the other. Within one heartbeat, my fingers hover above the fabric. And in the next, his hand is clamped round my wrist, halting the movement.

‘What did you do?’ His voice is even, deliberate.

‘Hmm?’ I can feel my eyes widen with guilt. ‘What are you talking about?’

A sigh. ‘Let’s not start lying to each other, hun. There’s blood on your knuckle.’

My eyes fly down to my hand. ‘Oh.’

‘Yes,oh.’ He reaches behind my back, brushing my hips in a way that sends a jolt down my body. After snatching my incriminating hand, his eyes widen slightly at the blood dripping from it. This may be the most emotion I’ve seen from him yet.

At the concern flitting across his face, I smile warmly. ‘I’m fine, really. I just nicked myself with a blade. No need to worry.’

‘It’s a little late for that,’ he says, eyes flicking up to meet mine. My heart warms at his sentiment, at this anticipated show of kindness. I knew he would come around, begin to show some sort of kindness for—

‘Shoo, you’re going to get blood on the fabric!’

My soft expression flattens into familiar dislike. ‘And here I was, thinking you were worried about me.’

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