Page 90 of The King's Weapon

"Already forgotten our kiss then?"

"Mustn't have been that memorable," Kallie suggested, shrugging in his arms.

Once out of the water, he stood her up in the sand, then he leaned down. His lips grazed her ear and his breath tickled her neck. "Liar."

The huskiness of his whisper against her neck sent shivers down her back.

Kallie rolled her eyes though and shoved him. Walking away, she began unbuttoning her soaking shirt.

He was right though. She was a liar. She was lying about many things, and the kiss was only one of them.

"I saw the way you looked at me at breakfast," he said from behind her. A blush rose to her cheeks as her fingers struggled with the last button. And she was thankful that she was facing away from him because just as she had done when she remembered they had kissed, her hand instinctively rose to her lips. The ghost of his lips still lingered on her mouth even days later.

She took a deep breath. It was only a kiss. Nothing more. A kiss would not unravel her.

Chapter26

Graeson had starteda fire in a small clearing in the forest a ways off from the springs to not disturb the sacred grounds. In Graeson's borrowed shirt—a fact Kallie tried not to think about every time the wind swept the smell of citrus toward her—Kallie sat cross-legged by the fire. She let the heat of the fire radiate around her. The remains of the fish Graeson had caught for dinner smoked at the bottom of the fire, turning into burnt crisps.

While they ate, Graeson told her stories of his childhood. His years of schooling, the intense training he had undergone, the constant pranks he and her brothers pulled on each other and Dani. During which, their previous argument was left behind in the waters as if it never happened, and instead replaced with happiness and laughter from his childhood memories. But darkness lurked in the shadows of his stories.

Kallie had noticed fairly quickly that not only was Graeson's mother absent in the stories since she had passed, but also his father. Ironically, the only parental figure present washermother. And she empathized with him. The way he avoided the topic, moving around it at every turn was all too familiar, for she had grown up doing the same thing.

However, Kallie got the impression that his father's role was different.

And despite what she had said before, for some reason, she felt compelled to know everything about this man who sat across from her with his face glowing gold from the flames. She wanted to know both the happy moments of his life and the ones that had caused the scars she couldn't see.

So even though she knew it might be painful, she asked the question she had hated hearing growing up, “What about your father?"

Graeson's gaze dropped to the flames, the laughter on his lips fading. His once soft features hardened, his jaw tightening. "Don't have one."

In the following silence, she observed him, wondering about the rage building behind his flesh. She wanted to know what happened, what his father had done to spark that rage. And she wanted to fix it, to take revenge against whoever hurt this man.

Instead, Kallie simply nodded, for she still didn't understand why she cared about a man she barely knew and who barely knew her. A man who looked like a god and whose foundation was built of the ire that could take down mountains and drain the seas. He was chiseled from marble, but with a softness behind his eyes when a rare smile appeared or a deep laugh left his lips.

Then again, she reminded herself, Graeson was also a man who could not give her what she craved from this world the most.

He was only a man.

Not a king, not a god.

He held no power of his own.

And she needed to refocus on that goal. The purpose of this trip wasn't to get to know Graeson better or to confuse her heart. The purpose was to strengthen her gift, to gain full control of it.

Directing her gaze to the waterfall hidden by trees, Kallie changed topics. "All right, so about this whole 'bonding with the gods’ thing. What happens now?"

Previously deep in thought, Graeson focused back on Kallie, who under his direct gaze, struggled to maintain eye contact. "Have you tried reaching for your gift yet?"

Kallie shook her head. She had been . . . preoccupied. She reached for her gift. Normally, she had to dig deep within herself to feel its presence, but at the mere thought of seeking it out, her gift greeted her.

Surprise glossed her features. Her gift flowed, molding to her will. It didn't just sit at the bottom of her stomach but flew through her body and melded with her blood, like another layer beneath her skin.

Graeson chuckled. "Based on the look on your face, I would wager it feels a little different now."

Kallie raised her palms, flipping them over as though she could see her gift coursing through her veins. "Now what?" Kallie whispered, afraid she might scare her gift away and have it crawling back to the pit of her stomach.

"Now, we wait until you can test it," Graeson said, poking the dying fire with a stick. He then placed one arm on his knee that was propped up and leaned back onto his palm.

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