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Before he knew it, the beast slipped out.
Red saturated his vision as he pushed her against the wall. His fingers dug into her biceps. Whatever hold Domitius had on her was too strong, too intertwined with everything she believed.
“I do not speak of excuses or faulty promises, little mouse. Have you forgotten that Domitius isnotyour true father?”
Kalisandre tried to shake his hands off, but his grip remained firm.
“Blood only means so much when it forgets about you—when it doesn’t fight for you,” she spat. “Blood is blood, and that is all it is at the end of the day. Actions are for more telling of one’s true nature.”
“And Domitius? What has he done to prove that he is worthy of your love, of your loyalty? Hekidnappedyou! He manipulated you!”
Kalisandre snarled. “So did you.”
The red in his vision spread further as Graeson stared down at her. “Hekilled your brother.”
Kalisandre spat in his face.
The beast inside of him growled, and ice coated his veins.
Kalisandre, however, didn’t back down. “My father did not kill Fynn.”
“Then who did?”
“Sebastian.”
Graeson huffed, looking away. She was gravely mistaken if she thought that the princely captain held the reins here. “Tell me, Kalisandre—and for once, do me the justice of being honest with me—did you know about us before we rescued you?”
“You meankidnapped?” she spat back.
“Semantics, Kalisandre,” he hissed.
“The truth?”
“Please,” Graeson gritted out. He could see her debating on what andhow muchshe should reveal. Kalisandre knew more than she had made them believe when they all had been traveling together only months ago. She had hidden her secrets well, nearly was impenetrable to Fynn’s efforts when he had tried to read her mind. If Graeson was going to convince the others that she was worthy of saving, he needed proof. Evidence. Even in this state, when the monster had control over half of him, Graeson knew that much.
“I knew that a group of Pontians was going to attack my carriage.”
“Howdid you know?” The red hue spread. He was on the verge of losing complete control.
Kalisandre saw his control slipping, too, yet she did not waver. She raised her chin, meeting his stare with the same fervor. “My father had been warned about the attack by one of his men.”
A traitor was in their mix then, but who? As far as Graeson knew, no one had raised Fynn’s suspicions when they were planning their attack or afterward.
“And what didDaddytell you about us?” Graeson asked. The beast was at the edge of his mind now.
Kalisandre snarled, her nose twitching, and Graeson forced the beast back.
“Nothing besides that you were all like me. He thought you would know how to help me strengthen my gift.”
“So he did not tell you who we were? Our identities or the twins’ relation to you?”
Kalisandre directed her stare at the ceiling, the veins in her forehead pulsing. He had her now. The mental walls she had built were breaking. The truth seeping out.
“No.”
Domitius had intentionally misinformed her. He had people everywhere, an endless well of knowledge at his disposal. If he had known the Pontians would attack, he would have known who Fynn and Terin were.
He bit back the snarl pushing at his lips and tried to remain calm.“And why do you think that is, Kalisandre?”
