Page 123 of The Throne's Undoing

"Funny how things can change so quickly, isn't it? One day you're trying to kill me with your own two hands, and now you worry over a few scratches," he mused.

"That's not--" Kallie swallowed as she brushed her fingers across her wrist, still tingling from his lingering touch. "That's not funny."

Graeson let loose a heavy sigh and pushed his hair back with his hand, smearing blood across his forehead. "I suppose it is a little early for those jokes, huh?"

"A little," Kallie mumbled, though she knew he said it with no malice. "Either way, a healer surely should take a look at you."

With a rough snort, Graeson shook his head. "A healer will find nothing." He finally met Kallie's gaze then, and Kallie stumbled backward.

The hue of Graeson's eyes was nearly as white as snow. Their normal smokey gray color had nearly vanished. And despite the shadows cast by the foliage of the trees, they pierced through her very soul as they glowed.

Her heart pounded, and she could not decide whether it was from worry or fear. Part of her wanted to run, but another part of her urged her to reach out.

Kallie gulped. And after a moment that seemed to span time, she finally asked, "What happened?"

"It's complicated," he shrugged, the picture of ease.

Kallie blinked, her mouth falling open. "Complicated? What is so complicated about this?"

Graeson chuckled as if the entire situation was comical. "Nothing is ever simple."

She tried to protest, "But--"

Graeson groaned out in pain, his eyes squeezing shut. He pressed his head back against the trunk of the tree and hissed.

"Graeson!" she gasped.

He leaned away from her, but there was nowhere for him to go. "Go," he gritted out through clenched teeth.

"Excuse me?" Kallie's eyes widened.

"Leave." His fingers dug into the tree's bark as veins protruded from his neck, and his complexion reddened.

Kallie scoffed and folded her arms over her chest. He would not push her away. Not that easily.

She raised her chin. "No."

"Please, Kalisandre," Graeson begged, but the tone of his voice had shifted. Kallie could no longer tell if he was pleading for her to leave, to listen to him, or if he was begging for her to stay. Either way, she would not leave him.

Kallie didn't know who Graeson was to her; she didn't know if he was her enemy or friend. Truthfully, she barely knew him at all, yet she felt like she understood him. Whatever was happening to him was coming frominsidehim. That much was clear as he clawed at the bark, and his brows twisted together in pain, deep wrinkles creasing his forehead.

Kallie stepped closer and grabbed his arm. His skin was cold to the touch, yet she didn't let go.

"Tell me what to do," she whispered. "Tell me how to help you."

Graeson grimaced. "You can't," he rasped.

"Then tell me what's happening."

"I told you," Graeson said, groaning as if merely speaking was painful. "It's complicated."

The bark cracked as he pressed the back of his head further into the tree.

"Graeson," Kallie said, gasping, "you're hurting yourself."

"I'll heal," he mumbled, a noncommittal sound.

"You do not know that!"

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