The crown grows heavy on my head.
I can’t imagine the neck pain royals must endure. Though, it seems I’ll find out firsthand.
My arm is pressed tightly within Kitt’s, but he doesn’t seem to shy away from the blood and dirt I mar his pristine tunic with.
Eyes, so many of them, skimming over my disheveled body.
I’ve never let myself bleed in front of so many Elites. Never let them see me so weak. And for that reason, I keep my head high and gaze forward.
Pain laces every movement, slows each step. I force my aching body to keep up its charade until I’ve made it out the doors. My legs shake, barely able to support me after my long trek through the city. But Kitt’s arm is a comfort, a disguised source of support that I lean on heavily.
The doors loom, as does the prospect of relief. Every head turns to follow us out of the throne room, and it’s only when the countless pairs of eyes are sealed from sight that I slump fully against Kitt.
“Just a little farther,” he murmurs, his arm now wrapped around me. “Let’s get you to the wall.”
I let him guide me, and even more difficult, let him see me struggle. His hold is hesitant and hovering, as if unsure how much he wishes to help. It’s unfamiliar, his touch. So unlike the claiming feel of his brother’s.
The crown slips atop my bloody strands of hair, the ones I’m trying very hard to ignore. Kitt’s face ducks toward mine when I slump against the wall. He sounds as unsure as he looks. “Are you all right?”
I nearly rasp out a laugh. “You know, I’ve been better.”
He almost smiles at that. “You were…” He clears his throat, rebuilding that indifferent distance between us. “You did well in there.”
“I was just trying not to fall on my face,” I pant.
“No need for that.” He glances over my battered form. “You’re wearing enough blood as it is.”
I swallow. “You have no idea.”
Despite the heavy feel of his gaze roaming my face, I avoid it. Understanding my unspoken desire for a change of topic, he states, “You retrieved the crown.”
At the mention of it, I happily pull the heavy accessory from my head. “Here. My body aches enough without this thing trying to snap my neck.”
“Well”—Kitt takes the crown slowly—“I’m sure you will be used to it soon enough.”
“Right,” I say awkwardly.
Thought of our engagement has his gaze dropping to the ring still clinging to my finger. Emotion flits from ear to ear as he gently lifts my hand. The clearing of his throat turns into a slight cough. “We will have to get this cleaned.”
He runs a thumb over the muddy diamond. Then his gaze lifts to mine, calculating in a way that surprises me. But his next words are far more startling. “After that, we’ll ensure the ring finds its way back onto the correct finger.”
My heart stutters against bruised ribs.
I look down, eyes snapping to the ring still decorating my right hand. Still exactly where Kai had left it the night before my Trial.
I never put it back.
My mouth opens, ready to spew an excuse, spin the truth into something less damning. Kitt has already expressed his concern for my relationship with Kai, and this has all but confirmed it. I can feel the panic that pushes against my blood-splattered face, slowly rearranging my features into something all too incriminating.
That is when my eyes wander over the king’s shoulder, as if pulled there by a tether I can’t seem to untangle myself from.
A gray gaze locks with mine, and I can read the relief within it at the sight of me. My body trembles; my throat burns. I ache to fall into his arms.
I made it back to him. I lived to spend another day pretending I’m not in love with him.
Kai’s long strides carry him toward us to spare me from spewing a lie to the king. Only then does the Enforcer tear his attention from me, pinning it on Kitt. “The court seems a bit restless, Brother. You might want to go back in there and say a few words.”
One moment, the king’s gaze is flicking between the two of us, seeming to piece together our puzzle of pretend. And in the next, he directs cheery words toward his brother. “Yes, I suppose I should. I’ll also announce the ball we’ll be hosting tomorrow night in honor of this remarkable achievement.”
I force a smile, though he wasn’t speaking to me. “Thank you. But I’m not sure I’ll be up for dancing.”
His gaze meets mine after a long moment. “I’ll have a Healer sent to your rooms.” The shake of my head is interrupted by his stern words. “Let him help you. That is an order from your king.” With that, he backs away, lifting the crown slightly. “I look forward to hearing the story behind this. But for now, rest.”
I sag against the wall when he strides back into the throne room.
Kai is on me in an instant. His arm is sure around my waist, breath warm against my ear. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Pae.”
I feel willingly weak with him to hold me, as if strength is a facade only needed when he is not near. And it’s that realization that has every moment of the Trial flooding back. My eyes fall to the trembling, bloody hands I hold out to him. “I’ve… I’ve stained my soul again.”
“Shh.” He grabs my wrists, pressing those bloody palms against his black tunic. “There. Now it’s my soul that is stained.”
I laugh weakly for him, though it sounds more like a sob. Still holding my wrists, he guides those crimson hands around his neck. My eyelids flutter closed when his arms encircle me, warm and comforting. But when my feet leave the ground, they fly open.
“Easy,” he murmurs, hearing the protests I don’t say. “It would be your wedding day before you made it to your rooms.”
My head lolls against his shoulder with each step he takes down the hall. “I didn’t think you would ever speak of my wedding.”
He swallows. “I thought you might not walk through those doors tonight. And it made me realize that I’d much rather spend the rest of my life apart from you, watching at a distance, than without you.”
I swallow. My throat is dry. “You shouldn’t be doing this. We are supposed to keep our distance. Now more than ever.”
“Yes,” he says simply. “Which is why I’m selfishly stealing this moment.”
I’m too tired to formulate a response, let alone a coherent thought. He turns a corner, holding me close. I let my eyes wander over his stubbled jaw, over the worry creased between those dark eyebrows. I’m lulled by his even steps, hypnotized by the rhythmic beat of his heart beneath my ear.
“Turn the handle for me, would you, darling?”
I must have dozed off because when I pry open my eyes, we’re standing before my bedroom door.
“I’d rather not kick it down this time,” Kai continues. “No need to give Andy yet another reason to be pissed with me.”
Dropping a heavy hand from his shoulder, I fumble for the knob. As soon as I’ve managed to twist it, Kai is stepping into the room and alarming a distracted Ellie.
“Oh, Paedyn!” Her voice is as soft as always, though filled with far more concern than I anticipated.
“Do I really look that bad?” I practically croak.
Kai sets me gently on the bed, treating me like I’m as fragile as I feel. His hand cups the back of my neck to ensure my swaying body remains upright on the edge of the mattress. “You look like someone who has just done the impossible,” he murmurs, face close.
I smile, tasting blood on my cracked lips. “So I look like hell?”
“If you look like hell,” he whispers with a sly grin, “then I’m fortunate to be going there.”
My strained laugh is cut short by the sudden movement over his shoulder. Pulling back, I’m reminded, horrifyingly, that we are not alone. At the color staining my cheeks, Kai turns to find Ellie wide-eyed and paralyzed in the center of the room.
Crouching down before me, the Enforcer clears his throat in preparation of the soft command about to spew from it. “Ellie, get me a pail of warm water and a cloth, please.” He says this as if she hasn’t just seen what passed between us mere moments ago. As my maid—I suppose it doesn’t matter. But as my friend—I’ll have some explaining to do.
She nods curtly, hurrying toward the bathroom as Kai adds, “Soap, too.”
I sit there awkwardly with his hands now braced on either side of my legs. Our eyes meet, mine concerned and his far too content. I give him a look that I hope screams, Keep your hands to yourself until she leaves, which I’m quite certain he understands because it’s the complete opposite he does next.
With a smirk that makes me want to simultaneously kiss and hit him, he slides calloused palms down my thighs. My weak warning look doesn’t stop his slow search of my legs. I can’t help but smile back at him, and he seems to take that as a sign of encouragement.
I’m so distracted by the feel of Kai’s hands that I hardly notice Ellie place the pail of water beside him. After setting down a cloth and bar of soap, she straightens with a clearing of her throat.
Kai’s eyes are locked on mine. “That will be all, Ellie. Thank you. I’ll let you know when to send in the Healer.”
With a quick curtsy and glance in my direction, Ellie swiftly strides from the room, shutting the door behind her. Turning my attention back on the smirking boy before me, I give his chest a good shove. “So much for pretending, Prince.”
He dips the cloth into the pail, shrugging at my words. “I’ll have the rest of my life to pretend with you. But for now, I needed to keep you alert.”
“You were distracting me,” I breathe, eyes dropping to the blood coating my hands.
My stained palms are quickly covered by the damp cloth he places over them. “And I will happily be your distraction from pain. For as long as you need.”
The bar of soap is rough against my hands, but I welcome the discomfort. Kai wipes at the scarlet now swirling atop my skin, leaving the towel stained with the blood of strangers.
I attempt to swallow the emotion clogging my throat. “It’s not the pain I need a distraction from. It’s the memory of what I did.”
He threads the cloth between my fingers, ridding my skin of any trace this Trial left behind. “I know.” His voice is saddened with the weight of understanding. “It just all starts to feel the same after a while.”
I’m blissfully numb as he guides my hands into the pail of water, letting the warmth wash over them. “I didn’t think I’d walk into that throne room tonight either,” I whisper. “I was ready to die beside Mareena in that crypt I fell into. I have never been so terrified—and I’ve spent my whole life in fear.”
He’s moved to my arms now, guiding the cloth over every speck of dirt and blood splattered there. “Pae, we don’t have to talk about this now—”
“It was so dark,” I breathe, because part of me desperately wants to be free of what haunts the confines of my mind. “I’ve never seen such complete and utter blackness. And the bats…”
My visible shudder has Kai placing a comforting hand against the small of my back. I watch him clean every claw mark, every nick the beasts gifted me. When the stained cloth reaches the slash across my shoulder, I hiss in pain. He does his best to mop up the blood surrounding it as he murmurs, “But you got out. You got the crown. And then you cracked it against a man’s skull.” When my eyes flick up, they land on his wry smile. “I’m assuming.”
I shake my head at him. “How did you…?”
“You’re not the only one who’s observant, Little Psychic.”
When his smile only grows, I huff, “Well, I didn’t enjoy doing it.”
“I know.” His gaze softens. “I wish I could have done it for you.”
My voice is tired, reflecting the current state of my body. “Does it ever get easier? The bad that supposedly justifies the hope of something good?”
“It hasn’t yet,” he says with a sigh. “But your bad will belong to me when I become your Enforcer. And maybe then, when I know you are reaping the good, things will get easier.”
I shake my head, gaze lingering on the splotch of blood soiling his chest, the place where he had pressed my palms. “I don’t want to stain your soul further.”
His smile is sad. “There’s not much left to stain, darling.”
It takes all of three swipes with the cloth before he’s changing the subject. His words hold a certain challenge as he says, “What about striding across the throne room? Seeing the looks on all those faces when you put that crown on your head?” The gaze he flicks over me is heavy. “Did you enjoy that?”
“I…”
I loved it.
What I settle on instead is “I didn’t mind it.”
He wipes a streak of mud from my jaw, brushing the jagged scar below it. “Come on, don’t be modest, Gray.”
“Fine.” My gaze settles on his. “Powerful. It made me feel powerful.”
“Good,” he breathes. “Focus on that feeling. Not what it took to get to it.”
My fingers find his free hand. “I don’t want to gain power if it means I lose myself in the process.”
He wipes the cloth down my nose, freeing it of blood before flicking the tip with his finger. “Everyone loses themselves to something. So make it worthwhile.”
I let him tilt my head in the dim light. He dabs gently at a bead of dried blood clinging to my temple. “And what did you lose yourself to?”
“Duty. Loyalty.” His lips quirk. “A silver-haired pain in the ass.”
I lean back on my palms, studying him. “And you think that’s worth it? Losing yourself to an Ordinary?”
As he drops the cloth from my face, I can’t quite read his mixture of emotions. “Between the two of us, you’re the only one who seems to care about that fact.”
I straighten swiftly, enough to have Kai’s hands flattening on my thighs to ensure I stay on the bed. “Of course I care.” My voice is rough, raw with emotion. “I’m weak. I nearly died today and—” I place a hand to his cheek, turning his face toward me. “Look at me, Kai. Look at what you chose to lose yourself to. I may have seemed strong in that throne room, but I will always be an impostor among the truly powerful.”
He’s shaking his head, hiding his gaze from me. Both of my hands are cupping his face now. “I worry about you, Malakai.” The sound of his full name has those gray eyes fluttering closed. “If I die—”
“Stop.”
“If I die,” I repeat sternly, “I need you to find something else worth losing yourself to. I won’t let my impending death be yours as well.” I press my forehead to his, voice breaking as I say, “Promise me that. Please.”
“Pae.” His voice is ragged. “I would lose my life for you before finding something else worth living for.” His fingers weave into my hair, slide along the back of my neck. “You are my inevitable. In life and in death.”
Tears cloud my vision, one of them slipping down my cheek when our mouths meet. He holds me gently, his kiss soft enough to shatter every wall within me. I crumble in his arms. Nothing has ever tasted as sweet as the silent promise on his lips.
You are my inevitable.
The kiss deepens, and with it, a plea with each press of my mouth.
I love you.
I tell him in the sigh he draws from my lips. In every slow caress across his skin. In every pounding beat of the heart that belongs to him.
I love you.
He smells of pine and spice and long nights under the willow.
I love you.
He tastes like a secret I wish to scream, a word on the tip of my tongue that will never be mine to utter. So I say his name instead, as if I could claim him so easily. As if I’m not thinking of three damning words when I say it.
I love you.
