Page 16 of Powerful

This leaves me speechless.

It’s only when she sets the stained cloth down that I clear my throat, making my first sound in a multitude of moments. I watch her sink back onto the mattress, burrowing into the blankets beneath her.

That is when I begin striding towards the door, shoving daggers into the band of my pants.

I can hear the concern in her voice. ‘Where are you going?’

The door swings open. ‘To find them.’

CHAPTER 6Adena

I wake to the smell of sticky buns.

Just as I have every morning after Mak went to find the men who chased me into his arms. Though, I’m not entirely sure what came of his hunt – and I’m beginning to fear I may not want to know.

The night still haunts me, as does the look on Mak’s face when he went to look for the vile group. The things they were saying, the sound of their footsteps pounding behind me – I hope to never be so frightened again.

My eyes flutter open in time to watch him plop a plate onto my stomach, occupied by honey-drenched dough that glistens in the dull light. I sit up, stretchingwith my usual smiling yawn. ‘Day three of breakfast in bed? I’m so spoiled.’

‘Yes, very.’ He says this dryly, as he does most things. ‘Another day, another demand.’

I nod towards the sticky bun awaiting him on the work table. ‘At least this demand benefits the both of us.’

‘Well, it sure as hell doesn’t benefit me financially,’ he grumbles. ‘You’re getting to be expensive.’

Unfolding myself from the cocoon of blankets, I get to my feet with a groan. The blue sweater hanging from my shoulder swaddles me in warmth and, more distractingly, his scent. He smells of something akin to fire – not smoky, per se, but similarly bold and lingering. Like a weapon incarnate, leathery and lethal.

He’d thrown the sweater at my head two nights ago after likening my chattering teeth to the incessant hammering of steel – or something equally as dramatic.

Nevertheless, I burrow my chin into the worn threads, finding comfort in the fraying collar. Or perhaps it’s something far more symbolic that soothes me. Perhaps it’s him.

How odd, considering that he may be the least soothing person I’ve ever encountered. But these past fewdays have felt particularly peaceful with him by my side.

I talk. He listens. He has somehow managed to keep my worries about Pae at bay.

Well, I can never be entirely sure if he’s listening or not. A common misconception about me is that it’s always easy to talk. But, truly, it depends on who is listening. And though I can never be sure that he’s doing just that, I still find it incredibly easy to spew my thoughts to him.

‘What are you working on?’ I peek over his shoulder, peering down at the scraps of metal littering the table.

He throws me one of those glances, the type that encompasses every dry emotion in his being. ‘Nothing that concerns what you are supposed to be working on.’

‘Oh, come on!’ I take another bite of sticky bun before circling him. ‘Your uniform is coming along just fine.’ He opens his mouth, stretching the scar gracing his lips. I hurry to add, ‘And it will be done in time for us to pay our visit to the castle.’

He pushes a hand through his hair, revealing that streak of silver and reminding me once again of Pae’s absence. ‘So, it will be done in three days, then?’

‘Yes, yes,’ I assure enthusiastically. ‘You have such little faith in me, Mak.’

‘Rightfully so,’ he counters. ‘Need I remind you of the tears that were shed over a button last night?’

‘Buttons are the bane of my existence,’ I say simply. ‘That was the only appropriate response.’

‘Naturally.’ His sarcasm hardly fazes me as I nod towards his work in question. With a sigh, he reluctantly says, ‘I’m testing some knife designs. This one,’ he lifts a thin blade from the table, ‘flips open into two knives.’ He demonstrates, fitting his finger into the metal loop at the top before spinning it into his palm. Sure enough, there’s a soft click before another blade appears on the opposite end.

‘And this one?’ I ask, pointing at one of the several knives lying harmlessly on the wood.

He pushes my hand away, giving me a look. ‘Your limbs are no longer allowed anywhere near my weapons.’

I attempt to hide my smile and nod at the knife instead, urging him to continue.

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