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Four.
She tried to exhale, but the air was shaky in her throat.
She swore she had noted cedar and citrus in the air. It was faint, but it was there.Somewherein that ballroom. Was it just because of her recent dreams? Kallie didn’t think so, and yet . . .
She lost track of her count, her breaths becoming more labored.
Breathe, Kallie. Breathe.
Her nails bit into her palms. She was imagining things. She had to be. It was the pressure of the week. The stress was getting to her head.
Graeson wasn’t here. He couldn’t be.
But if he was . . .
Footsteps echoed in the main hallway, and her eyes snapped open. Her nostrils flared.
There it was again: the faint scent of cedar.
If he was here, it only meant one thing.
Kallie reached underneath her dress. With shaky fingers, she unlatched the dagger that was strapped around her lower thigh, hidden by the layers of fabric.
The music was only a faint whisper this far from the grand hall.
Kallie shouldn’t have been following the trail. She knew she shouldn’t have been, yet she needed to see the truth. She needed to know if her imagination had gotten the best of her or if she was going crazy.
As she stormed down the hallway, her hands shook at her side, and her legs trembled.
She had to be crazy.
She had to be insane.
Because even though she did not see him, even though she did not hear his voice, sheknewhe was here. He had to be. Graeson’s presence was unmistakable. In a crowded room full of strangers and chaos, her body would know he was there. She didn’t understand why, but she could feel it in the pit of her stomach in the same spot where her gift lay. She didn’t understand it, but Kallie somehow knew she would find the Pontian here. Even when she shouldn’t, even when her mind should be on another man—on her betrothed, on the key to her power.
But Rian . . . Rian was a means to an end.
Kallie swallowed the lump in her throat.
Rian wasn’t Graeson though.
When she rounded the corner, her fingers grabbed the edge of the oak table in the hallway.
What was she doing?Rianwas the one who had the power. Graeson was a wishful thought, only a possibility in her dreams. She had chosen Rian. She waschoosingthe King of Frenzia. Now, today, and tomorrow. She didn’t love Rian, but she didn’t need to. It wasn’t as if she loved Graeson either. They had only spent a couple of months together, most of which was spent under pretenses. So why did the thought of him being here shake her so?
Her chest rose fast and hard. Strands of hair were loose in front of her face. Her knuckles grew white around the wood as her fingers gripped the edge.
Jaw flexing, she exhaled.
Kallie wasn’t one of them. The Pontians hadn’t chosen her, and Kallie was done putting herself last. She was done letting men think they could storm into her life and change the trajectory of it.
Her power, herfreedom, needed to be her priority.
And she would make sure Graeson knew that. Because as she lifted her gaze from the table, she saw him leaning against the wall at the end of the hallway. His palms were pressed against the stone, his head slunk, eyes on the ground, hair falling in front of his face. He looked just the same as the last night she had seen him: black sleeves rolled up to his elbows, paired with clean black trousers and brightly polished shoes. Yet everything was different now that the truth was out.
Peeling her fingers from the wood, she tipped her chin up and rolled her shoulders back.
This would end here. The thoughts, the dreams, the past. All of it.
