Powerless (The Powerless Trilogy, #1)

I hate that he makes me feel like I’m always trying to catch my breath.

And what I hate even more is that he knows it.

I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.

I drill those words into my head, forcing them through my thick skull. I refuse to get caught up in him.

He must be able to see the battle raging in my brain because he grins at me.

Dimples.

Those damn dimples.

I’m practically panting now, trying to breathe, trying to ignore this boy in front of me. Trying to ignore his dazzling smiles and difficult past I now know so much about. His caring and charming side, the little things that make up him, his hands that are on me—

I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.

Gray eyes flick between mine, worry reflecting in them. “Is everything alright?”

I hadn’t noticed how quickly I’m breathing, how I’m trying to gulp down air and failing miserably. Kai looks suddenly sober and suddenly serious, which I can only assume means that he can see the panic plastered all over my face. His arm tightens ever so slightly around me, ever so protectively.

I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.

“Pae...”

Oh, why can’t I hate it?

“What’s wrong?” His voice is stern, cutting through my haze of hysteria.

There are so many bodies around me, so close, so pressing. The air feels so thin, so hot in my lungs. I feel so confined, so trapped. Body locking, heart leaping, mind laughing at how weak I am.

My head is spinning and so are we. I stumble to a stop—my partner, my thoughts, my breathing all halting with me. I can’t swallow the panic, can’t swallow down air, can’t swallow my pride to admit to myself that something is wrong.

Calm down. You’re fine.

Suddenly, I’m that little, helpless girl again. The one with the dead dad and murdered dreams. The one being beaten against a pole for stealing to survive, running to rid herself of haunting memories. The one who would curl up in a ball, crippled by grief and consumed by panic. The one who couldn’t be in large crowds or small spaces without gasping for air or grappling to escape. Weak from worry, powerless from panic. No, just powerless.

Calm down. You’re fi—

I’m having a panic attack.

The dress is abruptly too tight, squeezing my ribs, choking me, forcing the air from my lungs. The crowd around me is suddenly doing the same: squeezing me, choking me, pressing in, oblivious to how the garden packed full of people is suddenly petrifying me.

“I—I can’t breathe.” The words are a gasp, and I’m embarrassed that I have to admit to him, to myself, a fear that hasn’t haunted me in years. “Claustrophobic.” I barely manage to get the breathless word out, but he doesn’t wait for me to struggle through an explanation before I’m pressed to his side, letting him lead me to the edge of trees.

“Just a little farther. Hold on,” he murmurs, pushing us through the crowd and back under the dark willow. I feel the rough bark of a trunk against my back and open my eyes, not realizing I had shut them in the first place.

In the shadows, I can barely make out Kai standing in front of me, wearing the same look he had when I was bleeding out on the forest floor before him. “Breathe, Pae. Breathe.” He seems to be struggling for air himself, his eyes scanning my face as mine dart around frantically.

“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me,” he says softly, more softly than I’ve ever heard him speak. And for once, I listen to him. I’m blinking rapidly, studying his shadowed face in the darkness, trying to calm myself. Though, technically, he was the reason for this panic attack in the first place. He made me panic. He makes me panic. I let my mind get out of control and spiral, my deep-rooted fear of claustrophobia only uprooting after the initial panic that was caused over him.

Caused by frustrating feelings for him.

I’m still breathing heavily, struggling to get enough air into my lungs. He’s kept his distance from me, giving me space. But now he’s slipping an arm around my back, gently, slowly.

“What are you—?”

Air floods into my lungs as if I’ve been underwater this whole time and only just broke through the surface. I gulp it down, greedily, relishing in how it feels to fully breathe again. The panic begins to dissolve, my mind finally settling after spinning out of control.

“Much better, I’m sure.” Kai sounds relieved, though the faintest smirk is lifting his lips.

And that’s when I feel it.

My dress shifts.

I look down and nearly gasp at the gaping fabric that was once stretched tight across my chest. The waist is loosened, no longer cinched to fit my figure.

The whole dress is about to fall off me.

I clutch the top of the sleeveless gown and tug it up, gawking at him. “What were you thinking—”

“I was thinking,” Kai shoves his hands in his pockets, the perfect picture of nonchalance, “that you couldn’t breathe. And as much as I like that dress on you, I figured you would look just as good in it with the laces undone.” He dips his head and smiles to himself, apparently humored by this. “So you could breathe, of course.”

He winks. He winks.

I’m fuming.

“I am going to—”

“Thank me?” he cuts in, pulling at the cuffs of his jacket. My eyes have adjusted to the dim light, and I’m not surprised to see the amusement reflected in his when he meets my gaze. There is no trace of the worried male only moments ago.

I have one hand holding the top of the dress up while the other grips the two pieces of the back together, since, thanks to Kai, the laces aren’t doing that anymore.

“If I had a free hand right now,” I say through clenched teeth, “I would pull my dagger on you.”

“I’m glad to see you are feeling well enough to threaten me again.” He tilts his head, giving me an assessing look.

He’s right. I should thank him. I hadn’t realized how tight the dress was until the panic had me panting for air. Hadn’t realized that simply being able to take a deep breath again would clear my head more than I ever thought possible. Untying the laces was brilliant. But I’m not willing to tell him that.

Distraction.

The word echoes in my head, and I begin to wonder if that is what Kai is doing. Again. Using the banter as a buffer. Turning my attention from my panic and pinning it on him. Using my anger and annoyance to distract, divert. But it’s not his calculating that shocks me anymore, it’s his caring. It’s that he understands exactly what I need.

“Pae.” He’s closer to me now, all amusement wiped from his face. “Are you alright? Truly?”

“Yes. Thank you.” His lips twitch. “Not for undressing me,” I huff, “but for...helping me.”

He shrugs. “Same thing.”

I roll my eyes at him while my hand toys with the laces of my dress despite knowing I won’t be able to tie them. “Can you—” I heave a sigh, annoyed that I have to ask this of him. “Can you tie the laces again for me?”

He studies me for a long moment. “You should retire for the night. Get some rest.”

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