Page 122 of The Throne's Undoing

Kallie's lips parted, but she was at a loss for words.

Were these not Graeson's friends? Were these not the people who should care about him? The ones who should run after him and make sure he was okay?

Kallie shook her head in disappointment. "I didn't want company either, yet that never stopped any of you from barging into the infirmary and talking my ear off."

"Graeson is...different," Terin said, as if that explained everything. "You have to tread lightly when he's like this." He frowned.

"Treadlightly?" Kallie repeated, her voice raising in disbelief. "He is your friend!"

"And as his friends, we know him best," Ellie said, folding her arms over her chest.

"Bullshit," Kallie spat.

And then she was off, chasing after the one man who had always come running after her.

Boom.

A thunderous clap ricocheted through the trees, and Kallie halted, her breath catching in her throat. Graeson had managed to go deeper into the woods than Kallie had initially thought. Cautiously, she turned toward the sound and peered through the never-ending brush.

"Graeson?" Kallie asked, his name no more than a whisper on her tongue.

Graeson stood with hands pressed against the beaten bark of a tree, his head slumped, and his hair falling, shielding him. His shoulders were tense as he mumbled something unintelligible under his breath.

Kallie took a hesitant step forward. "Are you...are you all right?"

Graeson still did not respond, and before she knew what she was doing, she was only a few feet away when she slapped a hand across her mouth, covering a gasp.

Blood was smeared across the bark of the tree, and his knuckles were stained red, raw and ghastly.

Without thinking, she ran forward.

Body trembling, she placed a hand on the back of his head.

"We need to take you to a healer." Concern creased her forehead as the blood continued to drip down his fingers and fall onto the roots of the tree.

Kallie looked around them, but there was no one within shouting distance.

She looked back at Graeson and bit her lip. "Stay here. I'm going to go get help."

Kallie began to pull away, but as her hand slipped from his shoulder, Graeson grabbed her wrist.

"Stay," Graeson whispered, the word almost inaudible. Kallie would have questioned if she had heard him correctly if it wasn't soon followed with a gut-wrenching, "Please."

Kallie hesitated, her heart a loud echo in her chest. "You need help."

"No," he gritted out. "I'll be fine."

"Fine? Graeson, you're bleeding," she protested.

"Was."

Kallie blinked, her brows furrowing. "What?"

"Iwasbleeding, little mouse. I am no longer."

"But there's--" Kallie's words disappeared into the air as she inspected his hand once more. It had just been dripping blood, yet the raw skin only appeared to be scratched, the wounds already congealing. "How--" She shook her head, taking a deep breath. "You still should see a healer. By the looks of it, you'velost plenty of blood, and you could get an infection if not properly treated."

Graeson released her wrist and chuckled as he turned and leaned against the tree as if he needed it to stay upright. His eyes were shut, and his expression was pained. Yet there was a flicker of a smirk on his face.

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