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Chapter48
GRAESON
Inside Graeson,a battle raged on. Every part of him was on fire, burning him from the inside out as the god tried to regain his control. Graeson was barely holding on, and that single word that left Kalisandre’s lips did nothing to help the situation.
Didn’t Kalisandre understand that he didn’t need saving from a king who could barely hold a blade?
What he really needed saving from was the thread of fate that was now disintegrating before him.
The blood running in his veins urged him to stop her, to beg her to choose him. It ached for her as the invisible threads that kept them connected unraveled from one another, inch by inch.
Did she not hear it? The tearing of their connection, the screaming of their gifts? Did she not hear the song that hummed in their very bones?
If Kalisandre did, she showed no signs of it.
Was this Domitius’ control on her at work? Did it somehow block the connection? Block her ability from reaching its full potential? Graeson couldn’t help but wonder if that was the case.
But when their gazes had met, when he had taken that bastard to the ground after Sebastian had dared touch her without her permission, there was something there. Kalisandre was still in there.Somewhere.Her mind wasn’t completely lost. He knew that like he knew his soul. And yet . . .
Graeson slammed his eyes shut. But being unable to see Kalisandre did not prevent her words from ringing in his ears or prevent the image of her from surfacing in his mind. The look she bore, the idea of her shrinking herself for this king, was painful enough. He didn’t need Kalisandre to confirm his worst nightmares out loud, too.
“You will let the man go unharmed and forget he or Sebastian was here. You found me here alone, waiting for you,” Kalisandre whispered in the king’s ear.
It was as if Kalisandre had driven that pretty little dagger of hers through his heart, twisted it, and then pulled it out without any care in the world about the blood that poured from his chest.
Rian’s body straightened. The king’s anger rushed out of his body, replaced by an eerie blankness. Graeson had seen Terin react the same way when Kalisandre had practiced her manipulations on him. But Kalisandre wasn’t just commanding Rian. She was granting Graeson the safety to pass, the ability to walk away without a fight.
That was the worst part. He couldn’t fight his way out of this. He couldn’t release his anger through brute force. Instead, it festered in his mind. It inflated his lungs, filled his veins.
Kalisandre didn’t have to walk into Rian’s arms. She could have chosen Graeson and returned with him, but she didn’t. She chose a crown over him.
The god’s rage bubbled at the edge of the surface, and Graeson was tired of fighting it. The previous scrap with the prince had already worn him out. His internal walls were weak, the hinges on the god’s cage nearly broken.
And then there was the god’s whisper that slithered across his consciousness:blow out the flame.
Graeson inhaled, letting the oxygen fill him. Cold dirt, blood, and lavender lingered in the air, mixing around him. When he exhaled, he let go of everything.
Chapter49
GRAESON
Graeson couldn’t feelhis limbs or see his hands in front of him. The darkness was too thick, heavy, and all-consuming.
This . . . This can’t be right,he thought as he squinted into the shadows.
His stomach twisted. He keeled over, retching, yet nothing came up. Graeson was no longer in control of his body but inside his mind, locked behind a steel door. He crawled to it, or at least, he thought he did. He couldn’t tell in this state, for his body was only a figment of his imagination. Something he conjured up to make sense of the situation.
Graeson had never had his entire consciousness locked inside of his mind before. Whenever he had released the god in the past, he had always been careful not to exchange too much of himself for the god’s aid. But this time, he had gone too far. This time, his entire soul had been ripped from his body and forced inside the god’s cell within Graeson’s mind. Now, Graeson understood the god’s fear of small spaces.
On the steel door, there was a single window. When Graeson peered through it, anger surged through him and filled the small cell. He pounded his fist against the wall, watching the scene unfold through the god’s vision.
It’s my turn now, the god sneered.
Then Graeson was thrust back, the window slamming shut. And for once, Graeson found no solace in the darkness that surrounded him.
* * *
It wastime the god had a chance to play with the mortals.
