Page 32 of The King's Weapon

As Graeson dismounted, he turned toward Kallie. The sun hit his face, casting a bright light across his tanned skin. "Need help down, little mouse?"

She hated the way his tone suggested she could not dismount by herself. She scoffed and gripped the pommel. After shifting her weight awkwardly, she reached for the stirrups. Her foot swung in the air beneath her, searching but coming up empty-handed. She was a few inches shy of reaching the hanging leather strap. Without being able to use both of her hands, it was nearly impossible for her to see beneath her.

She grumbled, then heard a deep chuckle followed by the shuffling of leaves behind her. Graeson gripped her sides, and she wanted to protest but fell short. Unless she wanted to crash onto the ground and risk twisting her ankle, she needed his help.

He tightened his grip around her and tiny goosebumps scattered across her ribcage. As he hoisted her in the air, Kallie forced away the flush of heat that had risen to her cheeks. She blamed it on having little time between her training and the choosing ceremony to seek out the company of men.

He plopped her down on the ground and the heat dissipated as soon as his hands left her.

Then she remembered her plan.

If Graeson thought his touch affected her, he might be more easily manipulated. She turned, gazing at him through her lashes. The ride had made a mess of his hair and his nose was now sun-kissed. She hated to admit it, but the rugged, messy look only made him appear more attractive. And based on her interactions with the man so far, he probably knew it too. She could tell he was the type of man who preferred casual wear to suits. The type who preferred his hair a mess and his collar unbuttoned.

With a contemplative expression on his face, Graeson scanned her from head to toe. And as his eyes slid over her, a foreign feeling flickered beneath her skin.

He cocked a brow. "You might want to wash up while you have the chance."

And then the feeling was gone. Kallie's mouth fell agape. He was not her most charming target, that's for sure. Most men fell on their knees before her, stumbled over their words. But Graeson? No, Graeson was more stubborn than that.

But she would find a way to seduce him. Some men preferred the innocent act, but Kallie had a feeling Graeson preferred someone who bit back.

Luckily, she was a viper.

She sniffed the air. "And you smell worse than a stable. Did you sleep with the horses last night?"

Graeson chuckled and absent-mindedly brushed his wind-swept hair with a hand. "No, just across from you."

Kallie huffed. "Maybe if you allowed your prisoners to sleep somewhere other than against a stump, they would not be so . . . repulsing to you."

She turned on her heel and as she took a step away, she heard him breathe out a response, "You're not a prisoner."

Kallie snorted, lifting her bounded hands over her head as she marched away from him. The burning red marks now ingrained into her skin proved she was nothing but a prisoner.

Graeson spoke to her back, or to himself—she wasn't sure because the words were almost inaudible, "You are much more than that."

She supposed he was a right. She was their hostage. Their key to getting King Domitius's attention.

Either way though, Kallie was done with this conversation. She stormed off in the direction Fynn had disappeared, pretending she hadn't heard Graeson at all.

For the first time in hours, she didn't feel the presence of another person pressed behind her. Although Kallie was not so naive to think her insistent guard wasn't far away.

Trees lined the mountains, but unlike at their campsite, the skies were clear. She had never been to this part of the mountains before. And despite the rope digging into her flesh, Kallie couldn't deny the sense of freedom that brushed across her skin. Underneath the open blue sky with the ground beneath her feet, it was as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. There were no towering buildings, no crowded streets, no bustling taverns she had to weave her way through.

She did, however, have her hands tied and her future on the line.

As the wind swept over her, she inhaled the mountain air mixed with the scent of pine. Then she pulled at her gift. The dull buzz that greeted her though told her it was not time yet. She needed more sustenance. If she could solve that issue, she might be able to command one person. But what's to say someone else wouldn't bind her again? She tugged at her bindings in frustration.

As she weaved between the trees and the sound of water grew louder, Kallie spotted a narrow stream beyond the pine trees. Parched, she quickened her pace.

At the edge of the river, she threw herself down onto her knees, which scraped against the grass. Cupping her hands together, she scooped the water and drank. Water dribbled down her face, down her chin and neck, but she didn't care if she looked like a wild animal kneeling before the water. She had half a mind to throw herself into the river and submerge her whole body—clothes and all. To let it wash away the dirt and grime that covered her flesh and mind. Then she'd allow it to carry her away.

But she didn't. Instead, Kallie dipped her hands into the water, splashed water onto her face, and rubbed off a layer of dirt. Whether Graeson was right about her needing a bath or not, the cool water felt refreshing against her dry skin. She reached for her bun that sagged at the nape of her neck and pulled at the ribbon that held her hair in place. She ran her wet fingers through her hair brushing the tangled strands.

As she rolled her neck back and forth, she felt rejuvenated. It was as though she had shed a layer of peeling skin. Her mind was clear. She needed to get the Pontians to talk, to divulge something useful to her so she could make her move. Further down the stream, Fynn, Graeson, and Terin stood with their horses.She wondered who out of the three of them would be the easiest target. It had been easy enough to manipulate Terin, but he had opted to ride at the back of their entourage with Dani's horse in between them. The likelihood of an opportunity arising was slim.

Fynn was clearly the ringleader of the group. While he seemed more open to talking to her, he too had maintained his distance. Kallie annoyingly needed to be in contact with the person she was trying to influence (a fact she had been trying to remedy without success). And despite her desire to cut the snake at its head, there was only one logical answer. One person who was constantly at her side.

Graeson.

---