I missed this.
I let my mind wander, watching as the knives meet their mark. Suddenly, I’m standing in my backyard again, throwing small, measly blades into the rough bark of a tree. My father paces behind me, drilling me with questions. Questions about my surroundings, about things I should observe in seconds, even while my mind focuses on the blades sinking into their target.
I can almost hear my father’s footsteps in the dirt behind me.
The familiar whoosh of a knife cutting through the air has me ducking instinctively, feeling the whisper of a blade above my head before looking up just in time to see it sink into the target.
A beautiful throw.
But I’m far too pissed to admire it. I draw up to my full height and whirl on my heel, eyes locking on the gray ones a few yards away.
He’s the perfect picture of innocence: hands already in his pockets, hair ruffling in the breeze, and a lazy smirk on his lips. “Good reflexes, Gray.”
That cocky son of a—
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I stomp towards Kai, closing the distance between us in a matter of seconds. “What if I didn’t duck, huh?”
He shrugs. Shrugs. “Then, I would’ve had less competition to worry about.”
“So, you’re admitting that I’m a threat to you?”
“I never said that.”
“But you implied it.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
My chest heaves as I hold his gaze. A single dimple makes an appearance when he looks down at me, the corner of his mouth tilted in amusement. And with that, the urge to hit him only grows.
“I knew you’d duck, Gray,” he murmurs, his lips twitching with the use of my last name. A shiver runs down my spine despite the sun beating on my back when he leans even closer to whisper something in my ear.
But I never find out what it was he wanted to say.
A prick of pain pierces my ear, and I jerk in shock. I hear the thud of a knife hitting the target behind us and look up over Kai’s shoulder to see Blair, hand outstretched. A smirk twists her red lips but her dark eyes flick between Kai and me.
I reach a hand to the shell of my ear where my fingers are quickly coated with sticky blood. She sent the knife flying into the target, but not before it left its mark on me.
She cut me. On purpose.
A muscle feathers in Kai’s jaw, the only indication of his temper. He remains hovering over me, refusing to turn towards Blair while half blocking me from her with his body.
“Territorial, are we, Blair?” I say, looking from Kai to her blazing gaze. She clearly didn’t like the fact that the prince was giving someone else attention, even if that attention was him throwing a knife at my head. Maybe she’s into that.
She ignores my question, voice smug. “Just thought I would mark my target before the Trials begin.”
And then she spins on her heel and struts away, leaving me staring after her. I swallow, feeling smaller and weaker than I ever have before. Blair’s display was a reminder of how easy it would be for any of these Elites to end my Ordinary life.
She marked me.
“You’re getting blood in your hair, darling.”
My eyes snap to Kai still looming over me, now assessing my wound with his piercing gaze. I reach up, intending to tuck the hair behind my bloody ear when his hand catches my wrist.
“Don’t,” he sighs, his calluses brushing my skin as he pulls my hand in front of my face and nods at my bloody fingers. “Unless you wish to add more blood to your hair?”
I try not to gape at him, and that only makes his grin grow. “Why are you...?”
“Being a gentleman?” he finishes for me, sighing as though he doesn’t quite know the answer himself. “Let’s just say I happen to know how difficult it is to wash blood out of hair, so I don’t envy your current situation.” His eyes wander over my stinging wound and the blood I can feel dripping from it. Then he drops my wrist before gingerly tucking hair behind my ear, muttering, “You’re making a mess, Gray.”
I blink at him, vaguely wondering if a wound this shallow made me lose enough blood to have me hallucinating. Something must be horribly wrong because the future Enforcer just gently tucked hair behind my ear so it wouldn’t get any bloodier than it already is.
“Turn around.”
The command snaps me back to reality.
There’s that lovely future Enforcer.
His brows raise expectantly, waiting for me to obey the order. Instead, the words that fall out of my mouth are, “And why would I do that?”
His voice is flat. “Because I told you to.”
“And that is supposed to mean something to me?”
I am playing a very, very dangerous game.
He cracks a smile. “Fine.” And then he’s suddenly stepping behind me, muttering, “Stubborn, little thing.”
Rough fingers brush against the nape of my neck.
My breath catches as he casually pulls my hair into his hands, combing the strands out of my face and away from my bloody ear. “What are you—?” I stop short, feeling the pattern he’s gently weaving. “Are you...braiding my hair?”
“Why do you sound so surprised?” he asks simply, unaware that my mouth is hanging open in shock. His voice is full of that cocky challenge as he says, “What, do you need me to teach you how to?”
“No, I don’t need you to teach—” I pause, taking a breath. “How do you even know how to braid?”
He huffs out a laugh that stirs the hair at the back of my neck. “You say that like it’s supposed to be difficult.”
We’re quiet for a moment, and the brush of his fingers traveling farther down my back has me stilling. I clear my throat. “I thought you told me not to get used to you being a gentleman?”
I can practically hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “And I still stand by that statement.”
“Then why are you doing this?”
He heaves a sigh. Fingers fall to my arm, and I almost jump at the sudden skim of his calluses. They stop on the strap wrapped around my wrist before slipping it off to begin securing my hair.
“There,” he says, stepping around to stand in front of me as he flicks the long braid over my shoulder. Then he gives it a tug, admiring his handiwork with a smile that displays his dimples.
I look down at the braid and stifle a snort at the sight of several strands sticking out. “I thought this wasn’t difficult for you?” I laugh as I say, “You do know that all of the hair is supposed to make it into the braid, correct?”
“Odd way to say thank you, but I suppose that is the best I’ll get from you.” He leans in closer, lips lifted into a mocking grin. “Perhaps if you won’t let me teach you how to braid, you’ll consider letting me teach you some manners.”