Reckless (The Powerless Trilogy Book 2)
Chapter 38

“Look, there’s another one. Wedged between those stones.”

I point to our left, turning slightly in the saddle to see Kai’s gaze following the length of my arm. He nods after finally catching sight of it. “So get us there, Gray.”

I had a feeling he would say that after spending the entirety of the day teaching me how to steer this beast. The reins are slick in my palms, forcing me to tighten my grip as I pull the leather to the left. I smother my smug smile when the horse obeys. We walk over to the nestle of rocks where I pull on the reins, halting the clopping hooves.

“Good work.” Kai pats my thigh firmly before jumping down from the saddle. “I’m a great teacher.”

“Or,” I say, softly stroking the horse’s mane, “I’m just a fast learner.”

“Yeah, a fast learner that steered us into at least a dozen boulders.”

“Just get the damn arrow,” I order before he has the chance to continue.

His shoulders strain as he struggles against the caught arrowhead. When he finally manages to free it, he straightens out the crooked tip before adding it to the others sticking out of the pack he now wears.

“That’s five,” I say, feeling the saddle shift when he steps into the stirrup. “At this rate, there has to be a discarded bow out here.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” he says, placing his palms back onto their usual spot on my thighs. “With all the bandits passing through, there are likely weapons scattered all over this place.”

I run my gaze over the wall of rocks on either side of us, creating an uneven tunnel. “And these bandits have yet to make an appearance.”

“And let’s pray they don’t.”

I stuff the reins in his hands, suddenly too curious to steer. “I didn’t peg you as the type to pray, Prince.”

I feel his shoulders shrug against my back. “I didn’t used to believe in a God.”

“And now?”

There is a long pause followed by a softening of his voice. “I found proof of a paradise.”

I glance over my shoulder to replace his eyes already on me. “And what was that?”

His gaze glides over my face and down the length of my braid. “You’ll know when you see it.”

Plagues. Pretty boy. Pretty words.

When his eyes trail back to mine, I turn away to look at anything other than him. His hands are resting on my thighs while his chest is brushing my back with each breath, and the feel of it is drowning out every rational thought.

I wish I could douse myself in cold water and shiver until I shake off this feeling. This feeling of falling for something I know I should be fighting.

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to focus on the wall of stones sliding past. We ride in silence—the type that’s far louder than uttering a word. The day crawls by, dragging the sun across the sky until it starts to sink.

My eyes skim over the stones, studying the shapes to pass the time. I squint against the sun, catching something glinting from where it’s wedged between two looming rocks. “Do you see that?” I ask, finally breaking the silence.

“See what?” he sighs against my hair.

“Whatever that is that’s shining up there.” When he doesn’t respond, I reach behind to grab his jaw, stubble biting into my fingers as I turn his face in the right direction.

“Thanks for the help.” I feel his mumble against my hand. “It’s pretty high up. Which one of us is going to climb up there and—”

I’m already swinging my leg over the saddle. “Thanks to you, both of us have to go, darling.” I draw out his favorite word, making him chuckle as I rattle the chain between us. “You and your fear of heights have to come along.”

I hear the smile in his voice as he drops down beside me, swiftly tying the horse to a jutting branch. “Yes, I can imagine that you and your fear of horses are terribly sad to be getting a break from the beast.”

“If only I could get a break from you,” I say sweetly over my shoulder. The towering rocks loom overhead, swallowing us in shadow. There are more trees scattered around in this cluster of stones than I’ve seen since setting off into the Sanctuary.

“This way,” I say, staring up at the shining something. The trunk of a massive tree weaves up from between the stones, creating a sturdy foothold. My fingers curl around the rough bark of a branch beside my head, and with sore muscles straining, I slowly start the climb upward. Kai trails close behind, following the path of foot- and handholds I found.

I’m nearly level with the top of the stone beside me, stretching to see over it.

The tip of a bow juts between the rocks, its bronze cap blinding in the sun.

My face splits into a grin.

“Can you reach it yet?” Kai calls from beneath me.

“Yeah,” I breathe. “I got it.” As I lean against the rock, my fingers brush the length of the bow before I’m straining to free it. When the weapon leaps from the rock, I nearly fall from the tree I’m clinging to. “Found our bow,” I pant.

“Too bad you won’t be allowed to use it.”

I sling the bow across my back. “Why? Your ego can’t handle that I’m a better shot?”

“It’s not my ego I’m worried about you wounding,” he says smoothly. “It’s the rest of me.”

“Deadweight, remember?”

I’m about to start climbing down the stone when my gaze snags on what glints behind it.

I still, sweaty hands slipping and heart racing.

I don’t hesitate before stretching a foot onto the stone and slowly convincing the rest of my limbs to follow. Kai sighs, not budging below me. “Care to explain why you’re climbing over the rock if you already got the bow?”

“Because,” I pant, “you’ll never believe what is hiding back here.” I’m on top of the boulder now and making my way down the back side. The chain tightens between us, stalling my progress. “Come on, Azer. At least try to keep up with me.”

“It’s not as though I have a choice, Gray.”

The chain loosens as he begins to climb, allowing me to ungracefully slide down the short back of the stone and onto the plush grass below.

I blink at the beauty I’m beholding.

It’s like a hidden world; a piece of perfection.

A grove of drooping trees sprouts from a bed of soft grass, their branches tangling together as though they’ve been holding hands for decades. Large roots break through the earth to weave between the vibrant foliage encircling the most beautiful thing of all.

A sparkling pool shimmers in the center of the scene, rippling each time a soft breeze blows through. Plants crowd the water to soak their leaves and bathe in the sinking sun.

This place is peace itself.

Kai is suddenly beside me, marveling at the masterpiece before us. “It’s no wonder the bandits claimed this place.”

“It’s breathtaking.” I sit beside the edge of the pool, dipping a finger into the cool water. “And so… out of place.”

He joins me, examining the plants at our feet. “I’m sure this was here long before the Sanctuary of Souls became the burial road it is today.”

I look over at him before my eyes trail back to the beauty beyond. “It seems the ‘Sanctuary of Souls’ had a very different meaning back then. Back when the first queen was buried here. It wasn’t menacing—it was sacred. A place where the souls celebrated.”

I can feel his eyes on me. “And what is it that souls celebrate?”

I shrug a shoulder, still not meeting his searing stare. “That someone cared enough to bury them.”

My words hang in the air between us. My mind wanders to the Whispers where Kai buried Sadie during the first Trial. Not because he wanted to, but because he knew that I did.

His hand brushes mine.

He’s placed his palm on the grass beside mine. I feel his fingers inching closer before they graze the tips of mine.

I don’t dare look in his direction. My gaze is fixed on the glittering water as I occupy myself by counting each ripple.

On ripple three, he slides his pinkie beneath mine.

By seven, most of our fingers are woven together, tangled in the lush grass.

It’s silly, really.

No, actually, it’s bullshit.

It’s complete and utter bullshit that he’s able to make me melt with nothing more than a mere touch.

His hand should not have so much control over me. Tracing fingers should not be tugging on my heartstrings. But gentleness will be my undoing. There is an intimacy in being reached for.

His thumb strokes mine.

The feeling is comfort incarnate, tangible tranquility.

And that’s why I pull away before I can change my mind.

“I’m getting in,” I say, standing abruptly while rambling thoroughly. “Which means you also have to get in. Because you’ve made sure I can’t do anything without you. So, we are getting in.”

I pull the bow from my shoulders and toss it onto the ground. He’s staring up at me, still not bothering to stand to his feet. “Is this all a plot to try to drown me?”

I look down with a smile, my vest already off one shoulder. “Now there’s an idea.”

He chuckles, head shaking as he slowly stands to his feet. When the pack is off his shoulders, he stares at me expectantly. “What?” I ask, unsure why I sound so defensive.

He gives me a lazy shrug. “I’m just waiting for you to tell me to turn around.”

I blink at him. Then at the hem of my shirt still clutched in my hands.

I straighten slightly, staring him down. I’m not sure why I say it. Why I feel the need to prove something to him. But when I open my mouth, the words fall out. “What makes you think I was going to have you turn around?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “Probably every moment we’ve spent together prior to this one.”

Lifting my giant shirt up, I keep my eyes on his. “I’m full of surprises, Prince.”

I pull the loose fabric over my head, leaving me standing there in a plunging, cut tank that cinches just below my breasts. It’s the type of breathable bra I would wear while training, and the easiest to replace and steal on Loot. I glance down quickly, making sure my brand isn’t visible. It’s bad enough that the scar trailing down my neck is always available for wandering eyes.

Pants hang low on my hips, exposing every inch of abdomen to him. When his eyes skim over me, I shiver despite the setting sun streaming through the trees. There’s something about the way he’s looking at me that makes it difficult to not want him to. His gaze is reverent, slow like an earnest prayer.

I swallow when his eyes replace mine again. Take a breath when he swiftly pulls his shirt over his head. The cloth I wrapped around his stomach is splotched with blood, and he doesn’t bother looking down as he begins unraveling it.

“Good to wash it out,” I breathe, because I can’t think of a single thing to say.

He nods, tossing the fabric to the ground. I hope he didn’t hear me swallow at the sight of his body. I’ve seen him countless times without a shirt, and yet, I’m still struggling not to stare. His skin is tanned, every muscle defined. My eyes trace the crest of Ilya tattooed on his chest, the dark lines tangling atop his skin.

Plagues, I need to cool off.

My face burns, so I turn it in the direction of the pool. “You first.”

He takes a step closer to me and not the water. “No, you go ahead, darling. You’re looking a little flushed.”

“You know,” I say, “drowning you sounds more tempting by the minute.”

His chuckle follows me to the edge of the pool where I pull off my boots and socks before dangling my feet above the crisp water. I suck in a breath when my toes touch the surface. The water is frigidly refreshing, and I quickly dunk the rest of my feet in.

The outer ring of the pool is shallow, the water blue and inviting. But the center grows darker and deeper, and I don’t plan on exploring how much so. I hold my breath as I slowly sink into the pool, biting my tongue when the water laps around my hips.

I give myself several seconds to adjust to the temperature before tugging the at the chain with my foot. “Come on. It’s warm like your fancy palace bath water.”

“Yeah?” His laugh is scoffing. “Is that why your lips are turning blue?”

My fingers fly to my mouth and the chattering teeth trapped inside. “They are not.” I drop my hand to splash water at him. “Now, get in here so I can drown you already.”

“How inviting,” he mocks, stepping into the pool. “Shit.” He hisses between clenched teeth when the cold water reaches his thighs.

“What’s wrong, Azer?” I ask innocently. “You look a little cold.”

“Oh, and you aren’t?”

I circle a finger across the top of the water, creating ringlets. “Not a bit.”

“Hmm.” The look in his eyes has me worried. “Well, that just won’t do.”

And then he’s wading toward the center of the pool.

It’s not long before the chain tightens between us, and I’m being tugged behind him. I swallow my gasp when water splashes around my waist, inching higher with each drag of my feet. A laugh slips between my chattering teeth at the sight of goose bumps climbing up his muscled back.

I dig my heels into the slippery floor when water meets my collarbones. “Kai.” Water laps around my shoulders. “Fine, Kai, I’m cold. We can stop now—”

My chin dips into the water and panic pulses through me. I’m splashing my arms, kicking the feet that barely touch the bottom now. Through blurry vision, I see Kai turn and rush toward me, splashing water with each step.

Strong arms circle my waist, lifting my head high above the water. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.” Concern crinkles his eyes as he looks me over. “I forgot how much shorter you are. Didn’t realize the water had gotten so deep.”

I cough, blinking water out of my eyes. “Still can’t swim yet, asshole.”

He shakes his head at me, breathing heavy. Water is rolling down his face, dripping from his eyelashes. He lifts a hand from my back to tuck a soggy strand of hair behind my ear. “Hell, with all that talk of drowning me, I figured you’d be a little more confident in the water.”

I smile weakly. “I’m confident enough to hold your head under.”

He chuckles, flashing a dimple at me. His fingers play with the end of my braid before tugging at it. “So, I’ve taught you to dance and ride now. Should I add swimming to that list?”

“Not if you’re going to gloat about it,” I mumble.

“I’m not gloating. Yet.” He traces a finger down my wet braid. “Simply stating that I’m not sure what you would do without me.”

“I would be free without you.” I smile sadly. “I would be doing whatever the hell I want.”

“Like fighting in cage matches and living in a crumbling building?”

“Beats rotting in a cell,” I shoot back, my eyes on his.

His fingers replace my chin, wiping away the water dripping from my lips. “I won’t let that happen.”

“Yeah,” I laugh humorlessly. “Make sure to kill me quickly, please. I’d rather just get it over with.”

He shakes his head, eyes on my scar. I flinch when his fingers brush the jagged line and turn away to hide it from him. “Gray…”

“Azer,” I cut in firmly. “Don’t pretend to forget who we are to each other. What we are to Ilya.” I jab a finger into his bare chest. “Elite. Ordinary. Enforcer. Criminal.” I shake my head, staring blankly at the branches swaying around us. “We are enemies with history. Enemies who hate each other.”

I don’t bother to look at him, but I know he’s shaking his head. “You don’t hate me.”

“Oh, I have every reason to.”

“But that doesn’t mean you do.”

I huff and push my palms against his chest. “Put me down.”

He holds me tighter. “You know what I think?”

“No, actually, I don’t give a damn what you—”

“I think you hate that you can’t hate me.”

My face is inches from his. “Oh, I can hate you just fine.”

“Then hate that you feel something for me.” His hand skims my thigh while the other presses me firmly against him. “Hate me for making you want this.”

A raindrop pelts my cheek. I swallow, searching for words before settling on a shake of my head. I push weakly against his chest, blinking at the beads of water trailing down tan skin.

“Just pretend,” he murmurs. “We deserve to pretend.”

There’s that word again—the one that justifies the feelings I’m fighting.

He’s lifting my leg, guiding it until it’s wrapped around his hip. Another raindrop replaces my nose when my gaze lifts to meet his, our faces close. My heart pounds in my chest, raging a war with my screaming mind.

I shouldn’t do this. He is a slippery slope that I am on the verge of tumbling down, a temptation I know better than to taste. Again.

But this is pretend.

This is a secret for the souls.

And that’s what I tell myself as I wrap my other leg around his hip, his hands tightening across my back. Holding me against him, he takes a few slow steps back until the water laps around our collarbones. And I let him. Because I trust him more than I care to admit.

Rain begins sprinkling from the sky, creating a pattern of ripples around us.

“This is just pretend?” I whisper, melting into his hold.

“This is just us.” A hand slides up my back and over my hair. “No titles. No obligations. No history.”

I nod slowly as I place my hands on either side of his neck. Rain splatters onto our faces, falling harder with each second spent staring at each other.

“You going to kiss me, Gray, or just continue admiring what you see?” he murmurs, now running a thumb over my bottom lip.

“Still contemplating drowning you, actually.” My voice is breathy, my own fingers wandering over the curve of his jaw.

“Oh, darling, I already am.” His lips inch closer to mine, teasing me. “And I’m begging you to let me breathe you in.”

I smile slyly. “I thought you never begged?”

“I’m getting used to it when it comes to you.”

And then his hand slips behind my neck to pull my lips toward his.

His mouth is on mine, distracting from every echo of warning bouncing around my skull. He tastes like a mistake, and yet, I memorize the feel of his lips against mine. Some part of me knows I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t seem to remember a single reason why.

This kiss feels different.

This kiss feels like making up for lost time. Like every moment our bodies pressed together while our lips kept their distance. Every moment tension twined around us, yet we broke away.

Kissing him on the rooftop was intended to hurt him, to show him the extent of my loathing. Hatred coated the lips that met his, and anger enticed me to do it.

Our kiss in the sewer was initiated by impending death, spurred by panic. It was rushed and impulsive—everything that this moment is not.

This tastes like longing. It is passion parting my lips, desire deepening the kiss.

He takes his time doing exactly what he begged to do—breathe me in. A hand runs down my neck while the other explores the curve of my bare waist. He slows the kiss when my fingers curl into his hair before running over the length of his shoulders, feeling scars flecking his skin.

There is a certain reverence in his kiss, a gentleness in the way he holds my face. I’ve never felt such delicate passion.

Rain is pelting us now, soaking my hair and dripping from my nose. He kisses me harder despite it all, as though remembering how he hadn’t the first time we were caught in the rain, outside the palace. I wrap my legs tighter around him, pulling him close enough to feel his heart hammering against his chest.

I sigh against his mouth when his tongue meets mine. That has him greedily tugging me hard against him with a calloused hand. The kiss grows impatient and demanding and desperate in the way that desire typically is.

His teeth pull at my bottom lip. Not with anger or loathing like I had atop that roof, but with wanting. The action sets my body ablaze, spreading fire through every vein. My mouth moves in time with his, matching every swipe of his tongue, every move of his lips.

His fingers are in my sopping hair, running down my neck—

Thunder claps above us.

Perhaps it intended to cheer us on, but instead, it tears us apart.

I’m breathing heavy, blinking in the streaming rain at him doing the same.

I squint up at the sky crowded with ominous clouds, occasionally broken by a strike of lightening. Loosening my legs from his hips, I clear my throat and force myself to replace his eyes. He studies me for a long moment, lifting a hand to wipe a droplet of water from the tip of my nose. “You’re shaking,” he says, barely loud enough for me to hear over the storm.

I swallow. “I’m cold.” His lips twitch at that. My fingers trace the swirling Ilya symbol tattooed on his chest. “Your heart is pounding.”

“That tends to happen when you touch me, yes.”

My eyes flick up to replace a dimple peeking out at me. The twitch of his lips tempts me to press my own against them, but I manage to restrain as reality sets in.

Pretend. Distraction. Weakness.

All words to describe what shouldn’t have just happened.

He gently grabs my wrist to guide it behind his neck, doing the same with the other. “What are you doing?” I ask hesitantly.

He steps deeper into the water, turning us in a slow circle. “You tell me, Little Psychic.” I roll my eyes at him while he flashes a smile.

His next words mirror the ones whispered after placing me atop his feet to dance beside the firelight. “Let me swim for the both of us.”