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Behind her, the door handle jiggled.

Before Kallie thought better of it, she hurried forward. With her head down, she passed the patrons and whispered a command for them not to say a word about her presence.

Her blood grew cold, the weight of her gift heavy in her stomach as it slumped down. The impact of using her gift on so many people at once drained her. When she glanced at a couple of patrons from underneath her lashes, hazy and confused eyes turned away from her.

Somewhere behind her, there was a rustling, and she picked up her pace, fleeing through the tavern door.

Once outside, she dipped down a side street. Covered by the shadows, she pressed her back against a brick wall of one of the buildings. Her palms scraped against the coarse brick wall in an attempt to steady herself, hoping the cool stone would ground her.

When she took a deep breath, everything she had tried running away from rushed into her lungs, filling them. It was too much. The smoke, the name, the memories were all too much.

Her stomach twisted, and she threw up the wine.

Since arriving in Frenzia, Kallie had done her best to lock those thoughts away—the moments with her family, moments laughing with Fynn. The looks she had secretly seen Graeson give her when he thought she wouldn’t notice. Kallie, however, had always been looking, watching. Spying. Because that was who she had been—a spy. From the moment she had left Ardentol, she had chosen her allegiance. She had vowed to use the people who were deemed her enemy.

If she had known . . . if she had been aware of who they were from the beginning, would it have been any different? Would it have changed things?

Would Fynn still be alive?

Kallie didn’t know. At the end of the day, the Pontians still had allowed her to grow up away from her true home. They had allowed her to be raised by a man who did not share her blood.

It did not lessen the guilt she felt or soften the pain coursing through her body. Because Kallie no longer knew the truth. She did not know where her heart lay.

She needed a new home, a place she could call her own.

Kallie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

Frenzia could be that. Kallie could make it be that. The marriage would make it permanent, something that couldn’t be easily taken away.

She pushed herself off the wall and tipped her chin up.

Frenzia would become her home. She would be sure of it.

* * *

That night,Kallie dreamed of the man she had tried to forget.

Chapter16

GRAESON

Pontanius’storms were meant to keep enemies away, not prevent the Pontians from leaving. But this one had hit them hard. One minute, the skies were clear, bright blues for miles. Then the clouds rolled in as if the storm had been hiding behind the sun, waiting for its moment to strike. And strike it did.

While Graeson’s crew bunkered down beneath the deck, the captain’s crew hurried about the ship, taking in the mainsail and locking the chains around loose furniture. They did everything they could to prepare for the change in weather. Still, the weather was beating them. Graeson, however, would not let the raging seas thwart his pursuit.

He didn’t care if some thought it a warning, a sign from Pontanius himself that Graeson should not be chasing after Kalisandre.

Graeson had always been bad at listening to the gods.

He ran from post to post, doing whatever he could to help out Squires’ crew. Graeson’s rain-soaked hair stuck to his forehead and the sides of his face, but Graeson didn’t bother to push it back. In this weather, it was pointless. As he tightened down the mainsail, one arm hooked around the pole to keep him steady as the boat rocked from a wave, a shout cut through the thunder.

“Get out of here, Graeson!”

Graeson snapped his head toward Captain Squires who stood at the helm.

“What! Are you crazy?” Graeson shouted back. “You need all the help you can get!”

Squires said something, but the lightning struck, and the thunder soaked up his words.