Page 174 of The Kingdom's Reckoning
"Oh, wait!" Kal jogged over to him. With a big grin, she grabbed him by the collar and tugged on the fabric.
Graeson cocked a brow, his hand slipping to her waist. "What is it?"
She arched an eyebrow. "Unless you wish to have no clothes when we arrive, take this off. Last time, you destroyed the clothes you were wearing."
Graeson chuckled and leaned closer. His lips brushed her ear, causing a shiver to ripple through her body. "If you wish to get me out of my clothes, all you have to do is ask."
She shoved him playfully and leaned away from him. "I’m trying to do you a favor," she said, trying to sound serious, but it was hard not to hear the amusement in her voice.
"Mhm, I’m sure," he said with a cocky grin. He reached for the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head.
"Woah, woah!" Moris slapped his hands over his eyes and spun around. "Why do I keep getting myself into these situations with you two?"
Laughing, Kal held out her hand. She let her attention dip over his chest, not bothering to hide the way her heated gaze seared into him.
"Kal," he warned, his control hanging on a thread.
She smirked and grabbed his shirt, stuffing it into a bag. When she straightened, she adjusted the scimitars strapped to her back.
He took in the sight of his scimitars on her back. "My blades look good on you," he whispered. The other day, Graeson had noticed her eyeing them. He had offered them to her, intending to show her how to use them. Little did he know, she had already been trained with the blades.
"Yeah?"
"Mhm." He motioned for her to spin. When she turned, Graeson tightened the straps. "Better?"
"Yes, thank you," she said, facing him again. She tipped up her chin, a devious glint in her eyes. "I’m thinking of keeping them. About time I stole something of yours, don’t you think?"
Graeson brushed his knuckles across the bottom of her jaw. "You already have."
"By the gods," Moris groaned, still turned around. "I’m going to throw up."
Kal chuckled, and any trace of apprehension buzzing at Graeson’s fingertips vanished.
"We should go," she whispered.
"Wait, one more thing," Graeson said, pulling her back when she retreated a step.
"What is it?"
Graeson dug into his pocket. "You should have this." He held out his hand, palm open.
Kal’s gaze dropped to the dainty ring sitting in the middle of his hand. "You still have it?"
"Of course," he said. "It’s yours—it’s always been yours. Your parents helped create it."
"But don’t we need to have a ceremony or something?"
Graeson shrugged. "We’re soul bonds, Kal. That’s all that matters to me."
Biting her bottom lip, she nodded and took the ring, slipping it back on to her hand.
"When you’re ready—when this war is over—we’ll celebrate with everyone."
"Everyone?" she asked.
Graeson chuckled, recalling how big her last wedding had been. "Maybe notallof Vaneria, but those who matter to us."
A small, shaky smile curved at the corner of her mouth.
