Chapter 41
GRAESON
Graeson was losing the battle that raged within him, and it was only a matter of time before he lost completely.
Yet as Kalisandre stood with him, her hand caressing his cheek and her presence engulfing him, he somehow managed to keep the beast within from ripping apart his body.
Still, even as his breathing steadied and his body stopped trembling, he knew he was only delaying the inevitable. With every passing moment, he could feel the internal clock clicking, the fight nearing its climax.
But Graeson would fight off the god as long as he could. For Kalisandre.
Until she was safe, until whatever was brewing in the East settled.
Until then, he would keep fighting, no matter how much strain it put on his body.
"Are you going to explain to me what happened?" Kalisandre asked as they sat side-by-side against the trunk of the tree.
After an hour of fighting to hold onto the little strength he still possessed, Graeson's heart rate had finally settled. Still, he had no energy to return to the castle. Thankfully, it seemed he didn't need to.
When the screams had finally stopped and he could finally peel his fingers, raw and bloodied, from the bark, Kalisandre had said nothing as she guided him to sit on the ground.
He'd expected her to leave then, but she hadn't.
Graeson didn't want to think about what that may or may not have meant, for he couldn't afford to when his hands still trembled slightly. Graeson was merely glad he hadn't hurt her. Even though he knew that the god had never tried to harm Kalisandre in the past, he still did not trust himself.
"Graeson?" Kalisandre called, bringing his attention back to her.
"We should go back. I should wash up," he said softly, flexing his fingers, the dried blood cracking from the movement.
Nodding, she stood and held out a hand.
Hesitantly, he took it, and the instant his hand wrapped around hers, a small flame spiraled up his arm.
Standing inches apart, he could feel the warmth of her breath against his chest. He spotted the faint freckles adorning the bridge of her nose from the sun's kiss. Her cheeks were no longer hollow like they were in Frenzia. He could see that life was slowly returning back to her.
There was so much he wanted to say to her. So many things he should say to her. Yet he was unable to speak.
A soft breeze tousled her hair. He lifted his hand and curled her hair behind her ear. His lips parted, but Kalisandre cleared her throat.
She delicately swiped the hair behind her ear, turning. "Come on," she said as she turned and tugged him behind her.
However, when Graeson registered the direction they were going, his heels dug into the ground. "The castle is that way," he stated.
She looked over her shoulder with a coy smile. "I know."
"Then where are we going?"
"Some place Medenia told me about," Kalisandre said. The left corner of her lip turned upward, forming a half smile that almost met her eyes. "The last thing you need is to be around everyone else."
They strolled through the woods, their pace leisurely as if they had all the time in the world. Notes of sulfur grew stronger with every step. But the farther they walked, the more Graeson was unsure of where they were going. When he tried to ask Kalisandre for more details, she ignored his questions.
Then, as he held a batch of low branches out of Kalisandre's way when they hiked a steep hill, she glanced over her shoulder and nodded. "It's just past these trees," she explained.
Kallie waved him forward, and when the trees parted, he looked out and inhaled.
Massive evergreens encompassed three large craters, each the size of three porcelain tubs, which overlapped one another. A narrow river flowed through the hollow cavities in the earth, filling them to the brim and creating a constant flow of water.
"Medenia brought you here?" Graeson asked in wonder.
"During that first week, Medenia had tried her best to make me feel welcome and safe. She kept me company and forced me outside. While the fresh air helped, I still felt...trapped," she said, making a face. "I think Medenia noticed how lost I felt, so one day, she took me out here instead of the gardens. I haven't been back since, but..."
Kalisandre scratched the back of her neck and peered at him from the corner of her eye. With a soft, nervous chuckle, she shrugged.
"I almost thought I had gotten us lost for a moment, but I found my way in the end," she remarked.
"You did," he said as he watched her tilt her head toward the sun.
Then, Kalisandre headed for one of the craters. Stepping on the heel of her shoe with one foot, she slipped off one shoe, then the other, her bare feet on the ground. Dipping her toes into the water, she released a heavy sigh.
"I find the water and the trees relaxing. It...well, it reminds me of..." Her words trailed off as she stared at the scenery before them, biting her lip.
"The Whispering Springs?" Graeson supplied.
Kalisandre nodded. "When I was knocked out, I often found myself back there. Initially, I thought it strange, but then I began to yearn for its familiarity as if a part of me belonged there. I don't know if I've ever felt like that before."
"Not even in Ardentol?" Graeson asked, raising a curious brow.
"Ardentol was always his kingdom, his people, his plans. While I do care deeply for the kingdom and want to see the people happy, it has never been mine ." She stared at the water.
Something akin to longing passed over her expression, but it was also mixed with grief and regret, contorting her features.
She went on, "Frenzia was supposed to be mine--at least, that's what he told me. But it was never going to be. The people...they would not have accepted a queen as their ruler."
"Change can be hard," Graeson said as he stepped forward and stood beside her, leaving a few feet between them.
"Indeed." Kalisandre gazed out over the small ripples. "But water is constantly changing, is it not? As the river flows and the seasons shift, the water changes as new things and elements are introduced. Change can be hard, but it is also inevitable."
Graeson squatted and reached out, dipping the tips of his fingers into the water. Steam came off its surface, yet its heat did not burn his hand. When he pulled his hand out of the crater, some of the grime that had once covered his fingers had washed off.
"Do you really think people can change?" Graeson asked after a few seconds passed.
"I hope so," Kalisandre said with a nervous chuckle. "If not, what was the reason for all of this?"
Graeson looked up at her and found a hint of sadness there. But beneath the melancholy within the deep blue depths of her irises, he also spotted a glimpse of hope.
Clearing her throat, she rolled her shoulders back and nodded toward the pool. "Are you going to get in?"
"It's getting late," he said, standing up. "We should probably get back."
"You could go back if that is what you want," Kalisandre said as she ran her fingers across the hem of her blouse.
His heart hammered in his chest, and he swallowed the rising lump in his throat.
"Is that what you want?" he asked, though the question did not come out as smoothly as he intended.
Kalisandre arched a brow and reached for the ties at the top of her blouse. "I didn't come all this way just to turn around before even enjoying the springs." She pulled the end of the bow, loosening the top.
Graeson immediately spun around, the collar of his shirt suddenly feeling too tight as heat flushed his cheeks.
Behind him, fabric hit the ground with a soft thump as Kalisandre giggled.
Graeson tipped his head back, willing his restraint to remain firm. But by the gods, whenever Kalisandre laughed, the sound did something to him. It was as if he could feel the sound crawl across his body and break away every wall he had built.
He heard a small sigh of relief escape her lips.
Shit.
Graeson rolled his hands in tight fists at his sides before releasing them. He undid the buttons running down his shirt, each one more torturous than the last as he waited to turn around. Once he tossed his shirt and trousers on the ground, he faced the springs again.
Kalisandre was already seated inside the nearest crater, her elbows propped on the edge as she tipped her head toward the setting sun. She pushed her hair back behind her shoulders, allowing the steam to kiss her face.
She peered at him, her lashes fluttering. She arched a brow, a smug grin stretching across her features.
"Are you going to stand there all day and gawk, or are you going to get in?" she teased.
Graeson ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath before approaching the crater's edge. Despite his desire to be near her, he opted for the opposite side of the small pool.
He stepped into the water, and the steam wrapped his body in a warm embrace, cloaking him. Once he submerged his lower half in the water, he finally understood why she had taken him here. The heat of the water was absolutely delectable. It soothed his muscles, and for once, he felt the tension in his body dissipate.
Graeson shifted backward, his back touching the wall, and sighed as he sat down on a bench that looked to be carved out of the pool itself.
"See?" Kalisandre asked from the other side, calling his attention toward her as she grinned. "I told you this would help you relax."
Graeson swallowed as his gaze dipped to her collarbone, already speckled with water droplets.
He forced his attention up and cleared his throat as he shifted. "You were right."
Kalisandre gasped and pressed a hand against her chest. "You, saying that I am right for once? Now, that has to be a first."
Graeson snorted. "Surely not. You have been right about many things."
"Oh? Like what?"
Graeson hummed his eyes fixed upon her. But as he struggled to keep his gaze from slipping to where the water sat at the curves of the top of her breasts, he had a hard time recalling the question.
"See?" Kalisandre mused. "Getting you to admit that I, or anyone else for that matter, is right is a hard feat, indeed."
Graeson rubbed a hand across his face. "People are sometimes right. It's just that they're usually wrong more often."
She snorted. "No, you're just a cocky bastard."
A small, genuine smile rose as Graeson recalled her having made the same statement at the fire that first night months ago.
They fell into a comfortable silence for a while after that. Soon, however, Kalisandre shifted, her brows twisting together as concern blanketed her countenance. "Will you tell me what happened back there?" she asked quietly.
Graeson brushed a hand through his hair, causing water droplets to drip down the sides of his face. "I do not wish to burden you."
"As if I have not burdened you?" she scoffed.
His gaze snapped to hers. "You are not a burden, Kalisandre."
She rolled her eyes, but Graeson still caught the doubt creeping in behind those sea-blue eyes. He couldn't bear another moment of witnessing it.
"Do not roll your eyes at that," Graeson grated out across the pool.
Kalisandre quirked a brow. "I will do whatever I please, Graeson."
"True, but I cannot let you carry on thinking you are a burden to me. It wouldn't be right."
"Aren't I, though? How many times did you try to tell me the truth, but I wouldn't listen? How far did you and the others have to carry me while I was unconscious? You all have risked so much for me despite never having deserved it." She shrugged.
"I did those things because I wanted to and because it was the right thing to do."
She shook her head in disbelief. "That does not mean it was not burdensome; surely you had a life in Pontia that you have uprooted to come here."
Graeson huffed. "It's ironic that you wish me to tell you the truth, yet you sit there avoiding it."
"I do not." She bristled.
Graeson could hear how she tried to force her words to sound steady, yet the way she dropped his gaze proved otherwise.
"I will say it as many times as I need to: you have never been a burden, Kalisandre. You never asked me to cross the sea or the mountains, yet I would do so gladly, even if it meant I only got to be in your presence." When Graeson spoke next, he held her gaze, lest she think he was lying again. "I told you once before that you consume me, and that has not changed."
Her face flushed. "Then why won't you tell me the truth about what happened earlier in the woods?" Her gaze fell to the space between them, and when she met his eyes a second later, she arched a brow in challenge. "Why do you continue to maintain your distance?"
"Because it is safer for you," he murmured, voice thick.
"Safer for me?" Kalisandre asked, her tone taking on an edge. "Or easier for you?"
Graeson laughed, the sound quickly disappearing into the steam. "Nothing about this is easy for me." He curled his fingers inwards, his nails driving into his palms as he forced himself to remain where he was and ignore the pull toward her. "Everything I do, I do for you. It pains me not to be near you, to touch you."
"If it pains you, then why do it? Why stay back?" she asked quietly.
"Because Kalisandre--" he began but swallowed as the words became stuck in his throat. He was riding a fine edge of needing to wipe the smug look off her face and being a decent man by staying put.
With an agitated groan, Graeson brushed his hair back. Water fell down the sides of his face, but the steam from the springs only increased the rising heat in his chest.
"Because...?" she pressed, her head tilting.
Graeson squeezed the bridge of his nose, then sighed. "You want to know what happened back there?"
She nodded.
"I'm not...I'm not in control of myself half of the time. I told you before that my mother passed when I was born, and the one who claims the title of father was no father to me. He abandoned my mother the moment he was done with her, tossing her to the side as if she was no more than last week's bread. He's not someone I look up to, nor someone I ever wish to be. However, the world never listens to the things we want, does it?"
Graeson twisted the rings on his hands. Each one was a reminder of who he was and who he wished to remain.
He sighed. "The more time that has passed, the more I become just like him."
"But I thought you didn't know your father?" she asked.
"I do not claim to know him, for I do not think he truly lets anyone know him. But I have met him. And every time I have the misfortune of interacting with him, the anger that has lived within me only grows worse," Graeson gritted out. "I didn't realize it until a few years ago, but that's what his objective has been the entire time.
"He only wishes to push me to my limits, to enrage me, and to force me to turn into him. My mother was a seer, yet somehow my mother never saw my father for who he was."
"Which was?"
"A god."
The two words sat heavy between them as the steam surrounded them, the hot air wrapping its tendrils around their bodies.
Graeson had thought that when he spoke the words aloud, the truth would have a way of destroying the world. That it would shatter his life and change how Kalisandre looked at him. But when Graeson met Kalisandre's gaze, he did not see an ounce of fear in her blue eyes.
As if she knew he was searching for it, Kalisandre said, "You say that as if it changes anything."
"It should change everything," he scoffed.
"Why? Because you are half god?" she chuckled, as if they were discussing the weather or something humorous Nyrri had done.
But perhaps she did not understand the ramifications of the statement.
"I am dangerous, Kalisandre. When the god side comes out, reason goes out the window. I am unable to see logic or sense. I am unable to do anything but let the rage control me."
"Is this what you were so nervous about telling me?"
Graeson blinked.
Her brows furrowed in utter seriousness. "Graeson, I am not scared of you."
"That is your mistake then," he whispered, his gaze falling to the water between them.
"Were you ever scared of me?" she asked after a moment.
Graeson snapped his attention back to her, his mouth falling open. "No, I could never be scared of you."
She tapped her fingers on the edge of the pool. "How many times did I try to kill you, though?"
"Do nightmares count?" Graeson asked with amusement.
Kalisandre shook her head, but a small smile formed before she sighed. "I am being serious, Graeson. I have done terrible things in my lifetime. I was a weapon for a king who lied to me my entire life. You have never been afraid of me, so why is it so odd that I would not be scared of you?"
His hands fell into the water with a small splash. "Because most are," he said with a shrug. "Even those who do not understand my background are scared of me."
"Well, I am not most people." She shrugged.
Kalisandre pushed off the bench and stood, the water sloshing around her. The tips of her hair were soaked and fell over her chest, covering her breasts.
Graeson quickly turned his attention back to her face.
She smirked and walked forward as she spoke. "I have always known that you can be a dangerous person."
As she strutted forward, her hips sashaying with each step, Graeson could do nothing but watch her. His breathing grew uneven, heat flushed his cheeks, and his entire being beckoned to meet her in the middle. Yet he could not move as if each word she spoke put him more and more under her spell.
"I have seen you fight as if you were ten men. I have known since the beginning that you are not an ordinary man. You think you are a monster, but I am too."
She was only a couple of feet away from him now. If he reached out, he would be able to touch her. But if he touched her, if he placed his palm on her hip that was now hidden beneath the water, the little control he had left would slip through his fingertips.
"Kalisandre," he said in warning.
But she only chuckled as she edged closer, her knees brushing against his and sending a chill up his body. "I recall you saying my name that exact way in Pontia that first night. You know what I thought when you said it then?"
"What?" Graeson rasped, the question no more than a whisper in the air as he stared up at her. His gaze was fixed on her as if she had pulled him into the sea that existed within her eyes with no way to escape.
"That I did not care for those sorts of warnings."
Kalisandre reached out, her hands caressing each side of his face. She tipped his head up, and her gaze skimmed over his features.
Graeson didn't realize he was holding his breath until he inhaled sharply, the citrus scent of her bath oils spilling off her. As if he had no control of them, his hands finally found their way to her hips, his fingers gently dancing across her skin.
"And now?" he asked, his voice low.
"I still don't."
Then, her lips were on his, hard and bruising, and everything he needed at that moment.
The world around them vanished, and Graeson pulled her closer, bringing her thighs between his. She leaned against him, her hands gripping the back of his head, digging into his hair as their kiss hardened. Her lips were sweet, though the intensity with which she kissed him back was anything but.
She was a wild sea storm, and he was a reckless sailor yearning for a tempest to threaten to engulf him.
He nipped at her lip, and she groaned against him. He squeezed her hips, the skin soft beneath his palms.
Then, despite every bone in his body telling him not to, Graeson broke the connection, pulling away. Their chests rose in synchronicity, their breaths heavy. Kalisandre's lips were swollen, and tiny fires were aflame in her stormy eyes.
He pressed his forehead against hers and sighed.
"Don't," she whispered, trying to pull his mouth back to her.
"Don't what?" Graeson asked, his mouth brushing the corner of her lips.
"Don't ruin this," she muttered as she shifted and kissed the side of his face right by his ear. She shook her head, her nose brushing his cheek and tickling him. "Don't tell me we should go back." Another kiss, this one closer to his mouth. "I do not wish to go back."
"Then tell me what you are truly thinking."
Kalisandre leaned back and locked her hands behind his neck. Her teeth scraped across her bottom lip.
While they may have broken Myra's hold on Kalisandre's mind, Graeson could only imagine that there were still broken remnants in its wake. What was once black and white was now too many shades of gray. And more than anything, he wanted her to trust him. He wanted her to let him in.
"I'm still trying to work through a lot right now," she said at last.
"Then perhaps we should take a breath."
"We are taking a breath. Is that not what this is?" She took a deep breath for emphasis, her chest and shoulders rising.
Graeson rolled his eyes and chuckled softly. "That is not what I meant, and you know it."
Kalisandre grabbed his shoulder, pulling him toward her. "Gray, listen to me carefully: there may be many things I am confused about, but one thing remains perfectly clear."
"And what is that, Kalisandre?"
"I need this."
When Graeson cocked a brow, she kept her gaze steady, even.
Graeson, however, knew the truth. "You mean you need me to be your release?"
Her hand slipped across his neck. With a dangerous smile, she said with a shrug, "Semantics."
Closing his eyes, Graeson inhaled, his body tense beneath her touch. He was on thin ice, but these days, Graeson always was.
He knew what she wanted. But right now, she couldn't give him what he desired. Not fully. And while he would be happy with any piece she could give him, he didn't know if he should. Especially when going any further would not help her.
"Gray."
He shook his head, and her hand fell.
"So that's a no?" Kalisandre asked, her hands loosening and rejection flashing across her face.
"It's a no for now."
"For now?" Kalisandre repeated, her brows drawing together. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"You have been through a lot over the past few weeks--"
Kalisandre flinched, taking a step back, and he knew he had made a mistake. But he didn't have a chance to explain before she was speaking over him.
"I've been through a lot over the past few weeks? My whole life has been a lie, Graeson! I have been tricked and deceived. My mind has been warped and torn to pieces. I barely even know who I am anymore!"
"And that is precisely why we can't do this," he explained. He tried to grab her hand, but she snatched it away, turning around and splashing water around her. "Kal."
She spun around, pointing a finger at him. "Don't do that. Don't Kal me. I ask for one thing, one, and you can't even give me that? I just want a distraction--a distraction from all of this." Kalisandre rubbed her hands across her face, the heels of her palms grinding against her eyes. "I just want to feel in control for once!"
His jaw ticked. "I'm going to try not to take offense to what you just said."
"Offense?" she hissed. " Your life hasn't fallen apart. You haven't lost a crown or your family. You haven't lost your whole identity. Yet you're offended?"
He cracked his neck and stood. "I am not a distraction for you to use."
She huffed, folding her arms over her chest. "Really, Graeson? You're going to play that card right now? Why are we even here then?" she demanded.
Graeson raked his fingers through his hair. "Do not play this game with me right now, little mouse."
Kalisandre lifted her chin, and the god within marveled at her confidence. In the reflection of her eyes, he could see the god rearing its head as his eyes illuminated beneath the night sky. It was supposed to strike fear in the mortals beholden to that stare, but Kalisandre did not fear the man who stood before her.
More than anything else, she feared herself.
"And what if that's exactly what I want to do?" she asked with a dangerous smirk.
His gaze dipped down her body, and as it lingered over her skin, scanning every inch of her, Graeson could almost hear her heartbeat pick up.
When he locked gazes with her once more, he scoffed. "You don't even know what you want."
He turned and lifted himself out of the water, his biceps straining.
"We need to go back," he said as he swiped his clothes from the ground. "The others will get worried."
While Graeson could have stayed there for hours, he knew they were both only hiding from their responsibilities and the world.
They couldn't hide forever, though.