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The men who were in charge of her were bound and determined to kill the one man she loved in this world. The one man who would do anything for her. Heat coated her skin and it wasn’t from the fire.
From this moment on, only one thing mattered: neither Fynn nor Graeson would kill her father.
They wouldn't get the chance.
She would kill them first.
Chapter9
Kallie and Graesonsat in silence as the coals shifted from scarlet to brittle white as they disintegrated to ash. The fire had grown cold and no longer provided heat or light. She adjusted herself against the stump and found Graeson peering at her. She glared at him. But he only shook his head and sunk deeper into his spot.
Despite the time that had passed, sleep never found her. While her current circumstance was not helpful, it was not the reason she could not sleep. Sleep had always evaded her. Either her mind ran in circles, sending her spiraling into an abyss with no end. Or the fear of nightmares kept her on high alert. Kallie was twenty-years-old, yet she feared the terrors awaiting her in the darkness of her mind when her eyes were closed. She envied those who could lay their head anywhere and find instant solace once they shut their eyes.
Therefore, instead of trying to fight a never-ending battle, Kallie stared up at the trees and found a small patch of sky the foliage had left untouched. And she wondered how Myra was fairing wherever she lay her head in this small camp.
Whatever concoction they had given Kallie before must have knocked her out longer than she had thought. Soon the sky faded from pitch black to a hazy purple as the sun rose beyond the trees.
When a golden hue coated the foliage, scuffling sounded inside the nearby tents. As bodies filed out of the tents, Kallie sat up straighter. People she had not seen the previous day began tearing down tents. Their gazes flicked toward her, and whispers filled the clearing as they worked to disassemble the camp. Then long, unusually unkempt blonde hair pushed through one of the tents and dragged Kallie's attention away from the rest of the group.
"Myra!" Kallie shouted.
Terin shifted his body to block Myra's view and whispered in her ear.
They continued walking. As though she had been slapped in the face, Kallie slouched against the stump while she watched her friend walk in the opposite direction.
A layer of dirt coated the bottom of Myra's light blue traveling dress and her normally spotless black flats. But besides her generally disheveled appearance, Myra was in one piece and Kallie was thankful for that small blessing.
Then when she saw Myra's hands hanging loose at her sides as Terin guided her past the dead fire without stopping, Kallie's wrists burned. Apparently, they had assumed Myra was not the mastermind behind their escape attempt and therefore deemed it unnecessary to bind her hands.
Graeson approached Kallie, stopping less than a yard away. He cast Kallie a downward glance. "Maybe if you cooperated like your handmaiden over there, your hands would be free as well.” He looked her up and down. "But you don't like it easy, do you?"
She pursed her lips, then spat at his shoes.
He clenched his jaw, smirking. "Don't test me, Princess."
Kallie sneered. Ruthless killer or not, Kallie was not going to make this easy for him. She wanted him on edge. That was when people made mistakes. "Or what, Gray?"
His fingers wrapped around her arm, then he yanked her up. Unable to use her arms to support her weight, she leaned into Graeson's grip and stood up awkwardly. He surpassed her by more than a foot, her head barely reaching past his chest. Kallie tilted her chin up to compensate for her small stature. Normally, her height did not bother her. She had grown into her figure over the years, had learned to appreciate it and use it to her advantage. Still, men underestimated short women (women in general, if Kallie was being honest).However, next to Graeson and with her clothes in disarray, she felt small, insignificant. Her dress was wrinkled and covered in dirt. Her once-tight bun hung loosely at the base of her neck as sections of hair floated around her face. And her cheek was definitely swollen.
The clean, regal appearance of the Ardentolian nobility long since forgotten—left behind with whatever remained of the discarded carriage and her belongings.
Graeson’s eyes darkened, the corner of his mouth twitching as he bent down to whisper in her ear, "You do not want to know what I am capable of doing, little mouse."
She peered at him through her lashes. "Oh, but I think I do."
He tightened his grip around her arm. "You wouldn't stand a chance."
Tilting her head to the side, she asked, "Are you sure about that?"
Graeson chuckled and pointed to himself. "Cocky bastard, remember?"
Kallie blew a piece of hair out of her face. "I suppose it's safer for you if my hands stay tied anyway."
Graeson scoffed and his voice turned deep, haunting, "I highly doubt that."
She glared at him through her eyebrows. He proceeded to reach behind his back to pull a dagger from his trousers. And at that moment, Kallie didn't need a fire to heat her. Her rage from seeing Graeson waveherdagger around her face heated her entire being enough to warm an entire house. "That's mine," Kallie said through clenched teeth.
"Is it, now?" He flipped the dagger over in his hands as though he was inspecting it. He shrugged. "Think of it as payment then."
