[TAKES PLACE DURING POWERLESS]

• • •

"For the first time in my life," Paedyn says as I join her at our makeshift campsite, "I think I've witnessed a miracle."

Depositing a pile of firewood beside the creek weaving through the Whispers, I murmur, "And what might that be?"

She meets my eyes, a smirk in hers. "You're wearing a shirt."

I huff, dropping beside her on the rough dirt speckled with grass. When pain tears through my body, remorse blooms in my chest. The first trial has escalated to the point where I've been so wounded that I cannot tell where the pain is coming from.

"In all your eighteen years," I say, resting my weary arms on my knees, "a scrap of fabric on my chest is the most miraculous thing you've encountered?"

"Yes." She chews on a dried piece of rabbit, seeming unaffected by the fact. "It's awfully nice to be spared from all your bloody wounds."

"Darling, you're just looking for excuses to not stare at me." I lean in closer, making her pause chewing. "And I can assure you, when I'm not covered in gashes, I'm quite the specimen."

She scoffs. "Scoundrel."

Grinning, I lazily trace my fingers over the dirt. "I am not a scoundrel, Gray."

"What are you, then?"

I clutch my heart dramatically. "An honest man."

At this, Paedyn spews the water from the canteen she's been drinking from. She coughs, struggling not to laugh.

"Careful," I advise, fighting a laugh of my own. "You're wasting our supply of water."

She smiles at me sweetly and cocks a finger toward the river at our side, which is far from blue. With all the contestants accessing it for bathing, washing clothing, and sparring, its color has begun to vary from a bloody red to a light, dusty brown. "You're welcome to drink from the river, Prince."

"I'd rather die," I mutter below my breath.

"Funny," Paedyn says. "I'd rather that too."

At this, I smirk, meeting those impossibly blue eyes of hers. "And yet, you haven't been trying very hard to kill me, as of late."

"Perhaps that's because I'm waiting to slit your throat while you sleep."

I laugh. "You couldn't."

"I certainly could," she argues. "Don't tempt me."

I grin, scooting closer to her, my eyes unapologetically on her lips.

She moves an inch away, nervous by my proximity. "If this is all some ploy to take my band —"

I laugh, tipping my head back at the mention of the band on her arm. The band on mine.

"If I wanted to take your band, Gray, I would. Jax is nearby — I can feel his power. I could blink when you aren't paying attention and snatch it."

She swallows. "That's unfair and you know it. My ability isn't as powerful as yours."

"Ah, yes." I kick aside a piece of firewood to see her better in the dying daylight. "I keep forgetting you're a psychic. Can you tell what I'm thinking about right now?"

My fingers are near hers, and I know they'd caress her palm is we were mere inches closer.

Another swallow. Her throat bobs. "A psychic is not a mind reader."

"You're right," I concede. "But my thoughts are written all over my face, so you should be able to guess."

"I'm also not as smart as you think."

Liar.

She's a liar and we both know it.

Paedyn lays down on the dirt, her back to me. Before I can interject with another flirtatious comment, she says, "I'm going to sleep, now."

"You're avoiding me."

"That is my favorite hobby," she agrees, stretching out on the softest patch of grass in our vicinity. In the process, she manages to kick me in the shin. "Whoops."

"Careful, Gray. You kick and I kick back." I watch her chest rise and fall. "And my legs are much stronger than yours."

"A noble man would never kick a lady."

I burst into laughter at this. I force her to roll over so she can see the smirk in my eyes as I say, "Just because I'm a prince doesn't mean I'm noble. And just because you're a woman," I add, grinning, "doesn't mean you're a lady."

"What am I, then?"

"A pain."

She grins, closing her eyes. "I like that title even better." She peeks them open to whisper, "Especially when it applies to you."

At the present moment, I think that my smile will never fade. That her comments will never cease to amuse me.

"My pride has been wounded enough for one day," I murmur.

"And I can't wait," Paedyn drawls as she begins to fall asleep, "to wound it even more tomorrow."

I grin.

The fact that she so much as wants to spend time with me tomorrow is enough reason for me to quietly build a fire to keep us — but particularly her — warm.

It takes several minutes, but by that time, the sun has set, immersing the forest in an inky blackness that's accompanied by frigid temperatures.

Paedyn is just beginning to shiver when I get the fire started.

That just won't do.

I watch her pinched eyebrows relax as the warmth heats her small frame, and feel a small tickle of heat in my chest, although it's not at all from the flames.

I sit awake for an hour or so and watch her chest rise and fall before my own exhaustion overtakes my body.

I douse the flames in dirt, feeling a stab of guilt when the shivers immediately return to Paedyn's body.

Swallowing back my own coldness, I shrug off my shirt and lay it by the dying embers of the fire. I can only handle watching her shake for a minute before I drape the layer over her bare arms and shoulders.

I figured the action would keep her asleep, but instead, her eyes fly open.

I force my face to remain neutral as I lay down just inches behind her. "Before you start grumbling about how much you hate me shirtless," I murmur, "a thank you would suffice."

She does indeed, grumble about it, although she has the decency to do it under her breath. Then she huffs out a painful, "Thank you."

Pleased, I say, "My pleasure, darling."

She huffs again.

But when she thinks I'm asleep, I catch her sneaking a glance over her shoulder at the bare chest she claims to have no interest in.

And I can't help but laugh.