Page 67 of The Throne's Undoing

"We're trying!" a Tetrian cried in dismay.

"Do not touch her!" Graeson roared.

A river of icy rage flooded his body. And that was all it took for the logic, the sense, to be cast to the wayside as Graeson unlocked the door and set the god free.

The human slippedinto the shadows of his mind with little to no fight against the god's pursuits.

As a warrior clad in leather shifted Kalisandre in her arms, the god acted. He ripped his arm free from whatever mortal held onto him.

But as he ran toward her, the humans were relentless, their determination an annoyance and hindrance all at once.

"Grab him!" someone shouted.

More hands wrapped around his limbs, but he easily shook them off as if they were no more than flies buzzing around his head. Grunts and curses flew in the wind, but the god did not care who he hurt. He did not care who fell. All he cared about was the woman who was promised to him.

They would not take her.

He would not let--

The god hit the ground, his cheek smacking into the floor as someone knocked him to the ground with a boot to the back.

Before he could get up, someone's knees dug into his spine. Hands locked around his wrists and forced his arms against the floor, spreading them. A heavy weight pressed down on his legs, flattening him to the ground.

The god tried to push up in vain, but he couldn't get any leverage as the warriors drove him down. Nails dug into his skull, digging and piercing. His head was yanked up, and a cold blade was pressed against his throat, eliciting a snarl from his lips.

The Tetrian princess's face came into view, a fire burning in her light gray eyes.

"What do you think you are doing?" the god roared, anger filling his voice.

"We are doing what must be done. What we agreed upon," Medenia said.

"Whatwhoagreed upon? Because I do not recall granting anyone the authority to touch Kalisandre or me."

But it was not the Tetrian who answered him.

"All of us, Gray."

Although the god could not see him, the god knew whom the voice belonged to before the man even came into view.

The prince knelt, his hands hanging over his knees and a heaviness soaking his countenance. Terin dug his fingers through his shaggy brown hair, the ends sticking in different directions.

A stab of betrayal struck the man inside in the chest, sharp enough for even the god to feel.

This is why you do not trust mortals,the god hissed at the man within.

"Get her out of here," Terin said, the cold metal still pressed against the god's throat. "Now!"

"She is your sister," the god growled, his gaze flicking to Kalisandre in rage.

Terin nodded, sorrow filling his features. "I am doing thisbecauseshe is my sister. It is the only way we can help her."

"And if you do not?" the god challenged. "If you are unable to fix her?"

Terin and the Tetrian princess exchanged glances, but their silence spoke louder than any words could ever dare.

The god snarled, anger flooding his system.

He couldn't decipher who the anger belonged to anymore--him or the mortal, for the line between the two was quickly disintegrating. Either way, it fueled him, empowered him. He pushed against the warriors whose weight pressed on him.

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