Chapter 52
KALLIE
Kallie's hand froze an inch from the door. It was nearly midnight, yet she had stormed down the halls of the castle with little care about waking up anyone who might be sleeping. However, the second she stepped in front of the door and lifted her fist to knock, the determination with which she had strutted through the halls vanished.
What was she doing? Did she truly think that--
The door flew open, and Graeson's eyes widened as he spotted her.
Her hand dropped to her side.
"Kalisandre," he said with a gasp. "What are you...what are you doing here?"
Kallie should have turned around when she had the chance, but now that he was here, standing in front of her, Kallie couldn't get herself to move. Her breathing was unsteady, her chest noticeably rising as she bit her bottom lip.
"Is there something I can help you with?" Graeson asked when she still had not answered.
Kallie swallowed, looking past him into his room and tugging the silk robe tighter across her body. "Can I come in?"
"Uhm." Graeson looked over his shoulder, his fingers tapping along the doorframe.
As Graeson hesitated, Kallie she questioned why she had come. She felt so silly for storming over here. What had she expected? She had practically run away from him only hours ago, so why would he open his door to her?
Kallie took a step backward, curling a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "It's late. You were probably heading somewhere."
"What?" Graeson asked, blinking down at her as if he hadn't quite heard her.
Kallie tilted her head and pointed. "You opened before I knocked. I'm sure there was somewhere--"
"No," Graeson said, interrupting her.
Her eyes widened. "No?"
"I wasn't going anywhere."
"Then why did you open the door?"
"I..." Graeson began but quickly stopped, his gaze roving over her features. His hand dropped from the door frame, then he stepped back and gestured for her to enter. "Please, come in."
With a tight smile and a knot in her stomach, Kallie headed inside before she could sprint down the hall.
As the door clicked shut behind them, Kallie scanned his guest room. While she knew it wasn't truly his, she could see his presence everywhere she looked.
His jacket was thrown over the back of the chair in a corner. The blankets on the bed were tossed across the bed, and there was an indent on the right side where he must have been laying moments before. A blush began to creep across her cheeks as she imagined him lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.
She quickly averted her gaze and stepped toward the desk where his scimitars lay across the table, unsheathed and gleaming in the moonlight. A whetstone sat beside them.
As she ran a finger across the freshly sharpened blade, she whispered, "They're beautiful weapons."
"Thank you. Dani's brother, Xander, made them for me years ago."
"He is very talented. They almost remind me of my own dagger," Kallie said as she inspected the intricate design carved within the metal. Her brows twisted together. "Do you know where--"
Kallie didn't have to finish the question, however, because when she turned, Graeson was already holding her dagger out, hilt toward her.
"You've had it this entire time?" she breathed in surprise.
Graeson shrugged. "I knew you'd come looking for it at some point."
Kallie took the ornate dagger from him and flipped it in her hands. The ancient script on the blade stared back at her. "It's ironic," Kallie mused as she read the words scrawled on the metal.
"What is?" he asked, leaning closer to look at the dagger.
"It says, 'You are the holder of your own fate.' Myra had worked with the blacksmith back in Ardentol to craft this. She had him write these words on the blade for me, yet she was the one who was controlling my fate the entire time."
He frowned slightly. "She may have played a role, but she was never in control of it. You broke free, did you not?"
Fynn had said something similar when she visited him. While she still found herself to be in a cage, perhaps she didn't have to exist in one forever if she didn't wish to.
Kallie ran her finger across the words, the grooves rough beneath her skin. She grabbed the blade by the hilt. The wrapping was perfectly formed for her hand.
"I suppose," she said at last.
"Did you come here only on the off chance I had your dagger?" Graeson asked, pulling her attention back to him.
She adjusted her grip on the hilt, her fingers flexing over it. When his gaze flicked to it, she set it down on the table beside his scimitars. "No, I did not."
Graeson cocked his head. "Then why did you come here, Kalisandre?"
"I am still trying to figure that out," Kallie said as she leaned her hip against the table, placing her palms flat atop it. "All I know is that when I'm with you, things are less loud. For once, it feels like I can breathe. I do not know if that is because we are soul bonds or not."
Kallie quickly held up a hand the moment a flicker of hope coated his gray eyes.
"I do not know if I even want to be soul bonds," she hurried to say.
"Then what do you wish to speak about?" Graeson asked, his expression falling once more.
Kallie took a step closer to him. "I do not want to speak at all."
"Then what do you want?"
For the first time since she walked into his room, Kallie finally let herself truly observe Graeson. He wore a pair of simple black trousers that hung low on his hips. His cotton shirt was half-untucked as if he had tossed it on before opening the door. His black hair was a little more unkempt than usual, like he had been running his fingers through it nonstop, tugging on the ends as his mind stewed. The scar that ran across the left side of his face was even more visible than normal as a result.
Tonight, there was a wildness to him that intrigued her more than she probably cared to admit aloud.
For her entire life, she had been told every strand of hair had to be perfectly in place and every wrinkle flattened. But Graeson never seemed to care about that.
While Kallie did not know what he was to her, she certainly could not deny that she was attracted to him. She always had been.
"I want to feel as if the world does not exist for at least one moment. I want..." Kallie swallowed, the words getting stuck in her throat.
"Yes?" Graeson prompted, his fingers curling around the back of the chair that sat between them, almost as if it was some sort of shield. But Kallie didn't know if it was a shield protecting him or one meant to protect her.
She took a deep breath as her heart thumped louder and louder.
"I want to feel like I have some choice in what happens next. I want to forget the rest of the world for just one night." Kallie stepped closer and placed her hand atop his, the chair still separating them. "Can you make me forget?"
She could sense Graeson debating as he processed what she was truly asking him. The bump in his throat dipped, and she felt his fingers tighten around the chair.
Kallie had to give it to him, his restraint was admirable.
He was trying to do the right thing--the respectful thing.
"You've been through a lot today," he said, voice thick. "We shouldn't--"
Her fingers danced atop his hand. "I have told you once before: you do not get to tell me what I should or shouldn't do."
Graeson arched a brow, concern filling his expression. "This is a dangerous game, Kalisandre. Terin told me you have yet to use your gift since you awoke. Your emotions--"
"My emotions are fine ," Kallie interrupted. "They are messy, but they're my own, and that is all that matters to me right now."
For over half of her life, Kallie's emotions had been twisted and manipulated. When she woke up after Cetia and Ellie had ripped her mind apart, she could still feel the remnants of Myra's manipulations, as if the fabric of her mind was still being unwound.
And then afterward, she had been dull, empty, and lifeless.
But whenever she was with Graeson, she felt . She couldn't quite identify what the exact feelings she experienced were, but she realized she no longer cared.
Graeson didn't look at her as if she had destroyed the world.
He never retreated out of fear of what she would or wouldn't do.
And maybe she should have been more concerned that she hadn't used her gift yet, that she still feared it. However, it was one of the many things that she did not wish to think about right now.
She had once despised the fact that she couldn't accidentally manipulate him. But now, she was seeing it for the gift it could be because she did not wish to muddy whatever she and Graeson had.
With Graeson, everything was real . With him, she didn't have to question whether she had forced him to look at her with those searing eyes. She did not have to question what he wanted from her or why. He had never been after her power or her title.
Kallie did not care that their past, present, and future were messy. It was theirs and it was real. It was not something she had conjured up or manipulated into existence.
"Graeson, if you do not want this," Kallie said, taking another step forward, "if I have misread your feelings toward me, then tell me."
She looked past his shoulder toward the entrance to his room. When she lifted her hand as she made to point toward the door, Graeson snatched her wrist. He stepped around the chair and closer to her.
"You have not misread anything, Kalisandre," Graeson said, his silver eyes darkening.
"But?" she breathed.
The corner of his lip twitched, and he drew circles along the inside of her wrist with his thumb. The small movement sent a spiral of chills running up her arm. " But we haven't even talked about what this is between us."
"It doesn't have to be anything," she whispered, her free hand falling onto his chest and crawling up to the base of his collar.
"But do you want it to be?" Graeson asked, his eyes searching her face for an answer she did not have.
Only a couple of months ago, she had been standing in the Frenzian temple about to marry a man she barely knew. And while Kallie felt like she knew Graeson, she did not wish to be tied down. She did not wish to be paraded around at another man's side.
Kallie had just gained her freedom; a freedom that may or may be taken away once they arrived in Pontia. But she still wasn't willing to give that up.
Even if she didn't think Graeson was like the others.
He lifted a hand to her face, and with his knuckles, he gently brushed the side of her cheek. Without intending to, Kallie leaned into the soft touch. She closed her eyes and inhaled.
This . This was what she wanted.
To forget and get lost in something other than her own mind.
She loosened the knot securing her robe, letting it fall open and revealing the short, silk slip underneath.
His gaze dipped down, his eyes catching on the thin ribbon of black lace on the top hem. He swallowed, hard.
"I do not know if I can only give a piece of myself to you, Kalisandre."
Kallie dug her fingers into the hair at the back of his neck. "Please, Graeson."
He placed his hands on either side of her face, his thumbs running across her cheeks. Back and forth, back and forth. His gaze was heavy, and his eyes bounced between hers.
Then, sighing, he pressed his forehead against hers and whispered, "You never need to beg me."
He stepped closer, his chest against hers. Until finally, he gave her what she wanted.
He kissed her.
At first, his touch was soft, a mere whisper. A gentle embrace as if he did not trust himself, as if he still questioned whether he should be giving in to her pleas.
But Kallie had never been more sure of anything. Because for the first time in a long time, Kallie was not thinking about the strife between the kingdoms or the lies she had been fed her entire life. She didn't think about what was going to happen to her when they inevitably arrived in Pontia. Nor did she think about the ramifications that would come from this night.
All she could think about was how intoxicating Graeson's presence was. How everywhere he touched, an untamable fire followed in its wake that only urged her to step closer.
She let the robe fall to the floor in a puddle. She gripped the back of his head, pressing his lips closer to hers.
She felt the ground disappear beneath her feet, but she didn't check to confirm because she trusted him not to drop her. She tightened her legs around Graeson's waist and kissed him as if this would be her last chance to do so.
Kallie didn't just want this, she needed this. She needed him .
Her back hit the bed, her body jostling as she bounced slightly atop the mattress.
When she looked up at Graeson standing before her, the flame of the candle sitting on his nightstand cast dancing shadows across his face. She could see the monster within peering out from whatever cage Graeson kept him locked up in.
But Kallie did not want him to be gentle. She did not want him to be kind.
She wanted everything he was--monster and all.
"I need you, Graeson," she whispered.
The moment she uttered those four words, it was as if a spark had been ignited. His gray eyes brightened, becoming luminescent in the dim room. His knees sunk into the bed, and he crawled toward her.
Kallie swallowed as he hovered above her. His features were masked in shadows, yet his eyes still glowed, like a beacon in the darkness.
He shifted his weight onto one arm and tucked a loose strand of hair away from her face. His hand moved to the nape of her neck, and his fingers dug into her hair, his touch strong yet tender.
"Mine," he whispered, his voice husky and low. His eyes widened almost immediately, and Kallie wondered if he had meant to say it aloud.
Tugging his head down to hers, she whispered against his lips, "I am no one's." And though she said the words aloud, they felt like they were a lie, at least in part.
A laugh escaped Graeson's lips, and it made Kallie's stomach flip, heat rising through her body.
"Right now, Kalisandre, you are mine."
"Oh?" Kallie mumbled. She tried to hide the smirk twitching at her lips, but she knew she had failed when his attention immediately flicked to it.
Graeson brushed his knuckles down the side of her neck and over her collarbone. As his fingers skimmed over the tops of her breasts, a trail of goosebumps followed in his wake.
Kallie pressed her head against the pillow, squeezing her eyes shut. As he palmed her breast, she had the passing thought that maybe being his, at least for tonight, wouldn't be so bad.
Then, his hand disappeared, and she had to swallow her protest.
He tipped her chin up. "Look at me, Kalisandre."
Her eyes snapped open at his command, and a devilish smile crept across his face. He ran a finger over her already swollen lips.
"By the end of the night, I'll have you begging to be mine, little mouse."
As Graeson looked down at her, his hair falling around his face, a stark contrast to the silver hue of his eyes, Kallie knew he meant it.
Then he sunk lower, his eyes remaining on her as he kissed the top of her breast. He tugged the silk dress down, freeing her. When his mouth wrapped around her hard nipple, her eyes almost fluttered shut. Somehow, however, she managed to keep them open, as if there was a magnetic pull forcing her to hold his gaze.
Heat blossomed in her core, and she dug her fingers into the pillow behind her head. She shifted, the heat becoming too much as his teeth scrapedagainst her sensitive skin.
Graeson released her, but his torment wasn't over, far from it. He gently blew on her wet skin, the cool air causing her to gasp and squirm as it tickled her breast.
"Tell me what you want, Kal," he whispered. "Command me."
Her heart raced as she peered down at him, her mind spinning. Not only did Kallie not wish to use her gift, she couldn't, not on him. Not on anyone.
"I can't," she said, her words barely audible.
Raising a brow, he ran his finger down her sternum and over her hips. His finger trailed down her body, and she wished the silk fabric wasn't between them, as thin as it might have been.
"You're more capable than you think, little mouse. Now, tell me," he said, his voice low. "If you could command me, what would you wish me to do?"
He stopped his exploration, his hand wrapping around her hip, patiently waiting for her command. And Kallie knew without a doubt that he would wait forever if she made him.
"Touch me," she pleaded finally.
"Where?"
Kallie groaned, shifting in frustration as his fingers languidly moved over the curve of her hip.
"Show me, Kalisandre," he said, tapping his fingers along her hip bone.
With flushed cheeks, she slowly moved. Her hand landed atop his, and she pushed his hand down, stopping right below her belly. Her dress had risen when he had picked her up and tossed her on the bed. Now, it sat dangerously high on her thigh. Still, the thin fabric was too much.
"Here," she whispered. "Touch me here."
"See? That wasn't so hard, now was it?" Graeson smiled at her, and an insatiable hunger lit his eyes, sending a delicious shiver running down her spine.
Kallie shook her head shyly, a grin pushing at the corners of her lips.
"I have this theory," he said, trailing a finger across her skin teasingly.
"Oh?" Kallie said, unable to form a coherent sentence.
"Mhm," Graeson hummed, his hands dipping lower. His fingers danced across her inner thigh, so close yet so far. "I believe that our gifts are often a reflection of what we desire the most. Take you, for instance; you can manipulate minds because you like to be in control--you crave it. But have you ever let someone else be in control when it comes to fulfilling your needs?"
Kallie bit her lip and shook her head.
"That's what I thought." He smiled wider, and Kallie could have melted because of it. "Remember, keep your eyes on me."
His hands wrapped beneath her legs, and he tossed her legs over his shoulder. A small yelp escaped her lips as he tugged her toward him in one smooth, fluid movement.
Then, Graeson devoured her, completely and utterly, as if he was a man starved.
She had said that she was no man's to claim. But as he lapped at her center and forced her back to arch, she could do nothing but moan his name aloud.
Control was her vice, and Graeson was her savior.
She had waited for years for someone who would take control, but her gift had prevented her from finding them. Whenever she needed something before, all Kallie had to do was command it. But she couldn't command Graeson.
She couldn't make him touch her in the ways she wanted.
She couldn't make him give her what she wanted.
She was entirely at his mercy.
And there was some relief in not having to dictate every move someone made. Not that he even needed her to as he drove her closer and closer to the edge with his tongue.
Graeson needed no direction because he could read her reactions, even the smallest ones, without her explaining them. Like he always had been able to do.
So Kallie did not care to fight him as her control was relinquished from her. As his every touch, every lick, every bite, set her entire body aflame.
She let him wipe her concerns and worries away. She didn't think about what tomorrow would bring. She let Graeson erase the entire world for her. Because at that moment, there was only him and her.
As his tongue danced across her sensitive skin, her fingers dug into his hair. Her hips bucked, needing more of him, craving more. As he eagerly answered her plea, Kallie knew it was too much yet not nearly enough all at once.
His fingers pressed against her thighs. He hummed, and the vibration sent a wave of sensation crawling up her body. Her toes curled, and her head slammed into the pillow despite his command to watch him.
Kallie was rendered helpless as he brought her over the edge. And with him, she gladly jumped over it.
She didn't care how loud she was as she screamed out in pleasure. Nor did she care that it was Graeson's name on her lips. Nor that it felt as if she was staking a claim she did not deserve.
She cared about none of the consequences that awaited her as her vision blurred and a myriad of stars danced across the ceiling, twirling and spinning.
All she cared about was the satisfied grin on his face when he lifted his head and said, " That is how a goddess should be worshiped."