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"More than you would think," Dani said as she continued to struggle to restrain her laughter.
Heat flushed to Kallie's cheeks. While it may have been a jest, their reaction frustrated her. Even without her gift, she was able to get her way with people by batting her eyes. She didn't think it was hard to believe that Terin would fall for it too. She fidgeted with the bindings around her wrists.
Fynn stood and stretched his arms above his head, the muscles in his arms flexing. He yawned and looked at Gray. "I'm done here. Graeson, keep watch over her." He directed his attention back toward Kallie. "You'll find that Graeson here isn't as easily persuadedas Terin." The manner in which he said the word 'persuaded' sent her mind spiraling, but she did not react to it.
She gave a snide smirk as she said, "Lucky me."
Before turning to leave, Fynn tipped his head to Dani who then stood. He spoke over his shoulder, "We leave at sunrise."
Before Dani took her leave, she squeezed Graeson's shoulder.
With the other two gone, Kallie observed Graeson sitting before her. The air grew colder when a breeze skidded across her skin and the fire did little to coax warmth back into her blood. The flickering fire made the pale scar near his eye starker against his skin. She was blatantly staring at the man, she knew it. But it didn't stop her from doing it. After all, when she saw something interesting to look at, she found it hard to look away. And Graeson was definitelyinteresting,to say the least. Taking her revenge against this man would be fun.
Anger flashed in Graeson's eyes. He took a swig from a nearby flask, and when he set the flask down, his expression was empty, dull.
"Care to share?" Kallie asked.
A crooked smile found its way to Graeson's face. "I'm not very good at sharing."
"I haven't had anything to drink since you decided to attack my carriage. I'm parched." Her tone turned into a whine in the hopes of annoying him to the point where he gave in since she couldn't use her gift on him from this distance.
He grumbled something unintelligible but then picked up a second flask. He walked over to her.
When he reached her, he tipped her chin up. His fingers tensed around her chin as his gaze caught on her cheekbone where the skin was taught and swollen. His expression iced over, his jaw flexed. "Who did this to you?" Graeson demanded, his voice low.
Kallie huffed and shook his hand from her face. "As if it matters."
"Of course it matters," he snarled as he untwisted the cap of the flask. "You are not to be touched. Our people should know that."
"Then perhaps your people shouldn't have attacked me," Kallie retorted.
His hand tightened around the flask, his knuckles blanching. He spoke through clenched teeth, "It will not happen again. I swear it, Princess.”
And there it was. He only cared about her safety as it pertained to her title. They could abduct her, bind her, and drag her along with them as long as no one tarnished her appearance. For if they left a scar or a bruise, they would be in deeper shit with her father than they already were. Appearances were everything.
Graeson tipped her chin up once more and poured a stream of cool, crisp water into her mouth. Then when he gave her his back, Kallie spat the water she had saved. The water hit him with a small splash. Graeson froze.
"Refreshing," Kallie said, smirking.
Then he turned around as slow as the river of the dead. He cracked his neck, leaned down. His face now only inches from hers and the anger clear in his glare.
"Next time, Princess," he paused, and with a rough finger, he wiped the water from her chin. Kallie refrained from flinching as she glared up at him. "Swallow."
Straightening, he turned on his heels. Kallie gulped as she watched him return to his side of the fire.
To his back, she snarled, "When my father learns of this, he will kill all of you."
Graeson snorted, the disdain in the small sound thick. "If you get the chance to see Domitius again, please tell him I've been waiting to slit his throat for years."
Years?He couldn't be more than a few years older than Kallie. Maybe twenty-three or twenty-five, yet his words gave the impression he had been harboring this grudge against her father for a long time. Kallie wondered why. King Domitius had never traveled to Pontia as far as she knew. No one from the mainland did. Not anymore, not after the war. So what did Graeson have against him?
Instead of asking though, she snapped back, "He would crack you like a twig."
His tongue swiped over his teeth, making a smacking noise. "I'd like to see him try."
"You're a cocky bastard, aren't you?"
He shrugged and began tracing shapes into the dirt as the red coals in the fire hissed. The color faded in and out as though the dying fire was breathing. Staring at the buzzing embers, Kallie's eyes stung. Her thoughts returned to Fynn and Graeson's conversation.
