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The darkness had never scared him, not now or as a child. He thrived in the dark. In the dark, his ghosts disappeared. Under the cloak of darkness, he could release the demons he held within himself. Among the shadows, Graeson could breathe.

Graeson gritted his teeth and took tiny, slow breaths to prevent the air from suffocating him. The sweat on his back began to soak through his shirt. The air was growing thicker by the minute.

A cackle reverberated through his body as the god watched Graeson suffer, but Graeson saw through it.

A crash sounded from the bottom of the tunnel, followed by a screech.

Now, human,the god barked.

Teeth clenched, Graeson hastened down the steps.

The anger reverberated throughout his body as Graeson’s tether to him loosened. A sickening feeling formed in the pit of his stomach. He picked up his pace. His heart pounded, his blood turned ice-cold.

Graeson prayed to the gods that his gut was wrong.

Do not pray to them.Iam your god,the beast yelled from inside Graeson’s mind.

When Graeson reached the end of the staircase, the last thing he heard was the god growlminebefore his vision went stark white. And then the god burst through the cage, locking Graeson inside.

Chapter46

KALLIE

Kallie should have known better.She should have known by his laissez-faire posture that he wasn’t the king. She should have known when the room’s aura had shifted the moment she entered. When the sweat beaded at the nape of her neck and tiny prickles spread across her skin.

The little voice inside her head told her to run. That if she turned around, safety would greet her. But Kallie hadn’t listened. The hum in her chest had distracted her, thrown her off, and had her stumbling into the room.

When she had turned the corner at the bottom of the narrow staircase beneath the tree, a man wearing a dragon helmet greeted her. A man whom Kallie had believed to be Rian. He sat in the single wooden chair in the tiny room much too small for his body, his legs spread and a weathered book in one hand while he tossed a ball in the other.

She should have known then, but she hadn’t. She hadn’t suspected even when the man stood up from the chair with that stupid, egregious helmet still on.

She should have questioned him when he stalked toward her and shoved her against the wall with such brute force that was so uncharacteristic of the kind, quiet king she had come to know.

She should have done something,anything.

Instead, she stood there, mouth agape. Because Kallie had been wrong about so many people in her life, she could have been wrong about who the king was, too, when there were no witnesses.

At the very least, she should have known the moment he had spoken that the man before her was not Rian. His voice was all wrong, too sharp, too hungry. But Kallie had been distracted by the strange feeling coating her skin.

The realization hadn’t struck until he had removed the helmet. The smug smirk on his face was too menacing, his eyes too green, the shade of red hair too bright. And by then, it was too late.

Sebastian’s leg pressed against hers, his torso crushing her chest. The cage he created with his body inhibited Kallie from slipping out of his grasp, from fleeing as the iron helmet crashed onto the floor.

His hand hovered over her face a hair’s breadth away, and a savage hunger darkened his irises. “Have you ever come so close to something—so close that it’s right at your fingertips—yet you can’t grasp it, Kalisandre?”

Sebastian’s hand danced across her face without touching her and with a look of curiosity painted across his hazy gaze.

Kallie’s brows furrowed. “Sebastian, what are you—” Kallie gasped.

He couldn’ttouchher. The command she had given him during the Last Dance still lived on in his mind.

She smiled, her head cocking to the side. “What’s the matter, Sebastian?” Her voice cracked, but she pushed through it. “It’s just the two of us. Now’s your chance, isn’t it?”

He ran his tongue across his teeth. “You see, that’s just it.” He wiggled a finger in the air as he leaned in, his breath smelling of whiskey. “There seems to be . . .” He paused. Confusion contorted his countenance as he thought of an explanation for why he couldn’t lay a hand on her.

He shook his head. “It does not matter.”

He pressed his leg harder against hers, and Kallie’s grin dropped.