Page 21 of The Throne's Undoing

In the stillness of the forest, something akin to a chuckle sifted through the trees, causing Graeson to straighten, every muscle in his body tensing. Even the god inside him bristled, sensing somethingother. Slowly, he turned toward the direction of the sound, but only trees and brush greeted him. And yet...

"You are still fighting your true nature, I see."

Graeson's hand twitched at his side despite knowing a mere blade was useless against this intruder. "I am not fighting anything," he said through clenched teeth.

"Do not lie to me!" the voice roared, and Graeson struggled not to flinch as the ground shook and the leaves rustled around him. "I can sense the wall within you, the pitiful cage you have built. Do you think locking the so-called monster away will make you more human?"

Graeson couldn't speak, his voice trapped in his throat as he searched for the owner of the voice concealed within the woods.

"You still do, don't you? After all this time, I thought you would have given up that pursuit."

Graeson's sharp voice cut through the still air. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, scanning the forest.

The leaves rustled as a breeze swept across him, and the once-loud chirping of crickets fell silent. When no response came, Graeson clenched his hands into tight fists and hissed, "Show yourself."

More laughter echoed through the trees, sending a spiral of chills skittering down Graeson's spine.

"You do not command me, son."

"I am not your son." Ice-cold fury rose within Graeson. Even though Graeson could not see him, Graeson knew Barinthian, the god who claimed to bear his blood, was there. The deity lurked somewhere among the trees and shadows, hidden but undeniably present.

"Are you not?" Barinthian's voice surrounded him, low and haunting andsearching."You sure act like me."

"I amnothinglike you, " Graeson spat in disgust.

The gold rings around his fingers hummed as the beast roared within.

"Short temper? Lethal with a blade? A craving for blood to soak the earth? How are younotlike me?" the god laughed.

A feeling akin to a finger trailing down the side of Graeson's cheek scorched his skin. Graeson quickly shook it off, only to be met with the mocking laughter of the god.

The ethereal voice crooned, "You are the spitting image of me. Vengeance runs in your blood."

"At least, I care for human life," Graeson seethed. He was nothing like the God of Retribution and Spite. Graeson would never abandon a child or his mother.

Graeson would never abandon those he loved.

"Do you truly, though?" Barinthian asked. "Or do you just care abouthers?"

Graeson whipped his head around at the sound of the voice, his blood boiling beneath his skin. "Do not dare speak of her."

"Oh, right. How could I forget? Your dear Kalisandre is off limits." The god clicked his tongue. "A pity, really. She is a sight to behold. It is no wonder you wish to claim her."

"She is not one to be claimed," Graeson growled, stalking slowly around the shadows that beckoned him closer.

"Is that not how those precious bonds my dear brother created all those years ago work?" Barinthian asked. "How do you think she will react when she discovers the truth about the bonds? Do you think she even will accept you? After all, how can she accept you when you don't even accept yourself?"

Graeson squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the red seeping into the corners of his vision to vanish. "You do not want to push me right now," he warned.

Wind swept across Graeson's face. When the god spoke next, his voice was right at Graeson's ear. "Oh, I think that isexactlywhat I wish to do." Strong fingers gripped Graeson's shoulder, and warm breath brushed across Graeson's neck. "Let the rage out, son. Show the world the beast you truly are. Show them therealyou."

Graeson spun, but the god was nowhere to be found.

Chapter 6

MYRA

Myra triedto melt into the wall of the dark, cold room beneath the Ardentolian castle. In the damp cells, the shadows loomed large. Melancholy coated the walls and oozed from the stone, making the air thick with agony and misery.

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