Page 95 of The Kingdom's Reckoning
Hehad killed her.
He knelt beside her and tried not to look at the stain covering her top. With a trembling hand, he swiped away the limp hair that had fallen in front of her face. Her wan skin was cold to the touch.
They were supposed to save her. They were supposed to free her.
Graeson pressed the heel of his palm against his eye and screamed. He let his anger, frustration, and grief pour out of him, unrelenting.
"You were a seer. You were supposed to know! You were supposed to—" Graeson choked on his words as his mother’s final words came tumbling back to him.
"My son, I never stopped loving you. Know that there was nothing you could have done differently. I sealed my fate a long time ago.Thiswas the only way."
She did know. She had known all along.Thatwas why she didn’t fight him or cry out. That is why she helped him push the blade when he struggled to fight off Domitius' commands. She had known she was going to die.
"And to think, all it took was a little push," Barinthian’s voice slipped through the trees like a python and wrapped around Graeson’s neck.
"Now is not the time," Graeson bit out. He swiped at the tears, but it was useless.
"Oh, but it is the perfect time," Barinthian said. "I told you this would happen."
"You did not tell me I would turn into some savage creature! You did not tell me I would kill her!" Heat rose in the back of Graeson’s throat, the ice melting away.
A rumbling sounded in the back of Graeson’s throat.
Graeson scanned the trees, searching for his cowardly father hidden among them.
Barinthian’s voice washed over him. "You finally coming to terms with your true self is not the reason for her death."
Graeson scoffed. He had not come to terms with it by any means. He didn’t even understandhowhe had shifted. One minute he was holding his mother’s limp body, seeing her life slip from her eyes, and the next an icy-hot rage ripped through him, tearing at his muscles and breaking his bones.
He wasn’t sure he knew how to do it again. Would someone he cared about have to die every time?
He reached for the god that lurked within. But when he reached the cage, he found it empty. The cell was blown apart. There was a weight that existed that hadn’t been there before, a layer beneath his skin.
"Is this what you wanted, then?" Graeson asked. "For me to…to transform into a fucking dragon? And for what? What was the point?"
"Thepoint, son, is that the humans have grown unruly. They believe they can take and give freely, that they can rise above their frivolous titles and become gods. But that is not how this world works. They have overstepped. They have created creatures that shouldn’t exist. They have given abilities to those who are undeserving."
In Graeson’s periphery, he spotted Moris still out cold, his wings spread out beneath him. How many more people like him were there? How many more Pontians had Domitius gotten his hands on before he died?
His hands curled into fists at his sides. "And my mother had to die because of that? Is this some sick fucking joke?"
"Am I laughing?" Barinthian asked.
For once, Graeson did not hear a single laugh slip from the god’s mouth. The chilling sound had been absent during their entire conversation, a fact Graeson should have noticed immediately.
"Then why?" Graeson demanded. "You could have stopped this!"
"No, I could’t have. The Fates made it so."
"TheFates?" Graeson was so fucking sick of hearing about the Fates. "You are a fucking god!"
"And even gods are bound by the tapestry woven by the Fates," Barinthian said, his voice hollow, almost pained. "Lysanthia?—"
"Do not speak her name," Graeson said, cutting him off. Barinthian didn’t deserve to. He was a coward and a fraud. He was a god, yet he did nothing to stop Graeson’s mother from dying. There was no warning. No guidance. Even now, he remained hidden, not even giving Graeson the courtesy of showing himself.
"Your mother knew what the Fates had in store for her. She accepted it long ago. If you crumble now, if you refuse to accept the truth, her death will only be in vain. She never wanted you to fear yourself."
Graeson’s knuckles turned white as he stared at his mother’s lifeless body. "You do not know what she wanted."
