Impassioned |Book 1|

Chapter 18

Grayson and I had went back to his-our quarters, the tension from the altercation not leaving Grayson's body. He was livid. Neither of us spoke, and I had started to grow worried that Grayson was in fact mad at me. Did I technically start it-no. But had I made it a lot worse than it had to be-yes. We entered our quarters, Grayson immediately going into the bedroom. I sighed, placing my head in my hands, taking a deep, steadying breath. Dropping my hands, I followed after him, walking in to see him sitting on the edge of the bed. He had removed his blazer, throwing it carelessly on the desk, scattering all the papers. He was unbuttoning his shirt when I entered, leaving it on once all the buttons had been undone. I slowly made my way to him, climbing up in the bed, and stopping behind him. He didn't acknowledge me, but he knew I was there. I took his shirt in my hands, gently pulling it off him. He helped take his arms out, running his hands through his hair once the shirt was removed. I wrapped my arms around his neck, resting my head against his shoulder blades, placing small kisses to his cool skin. "I'm sorry." I mumbled, my voice muffled slightly by my kisses.

"For what? Standing up for you and I?" he asked, not turning to look at me. His voice was soft, not angry like I had expected.

I continued kissing his back, not replying. He finally turned around, only shifting his upper body to look at me. I peered up at him, my eyes full of worry for the situation. He gently ran his finger along my jaw, his eyes searching mine. "Please don't worry. Graham was out of line, and no one is mad at you for calling him on his bullshit. If it wasn't for my father, I would do it a lot more than I do."

I furrowed my eyebrows, sitting up and facing him properly. "Why do you let him run over you? You asked him a totally legit question, and he just brushed you off like you were nothing. Why did you let him do that, Grayson?" I asked, my voice full of confusion, anger, and slight disappointment all in one.

Grayson didn't answer for a moment, taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it before answering. "He's family, ya know? And...I don't know. He's..." He looked down, closing his eyes tightly together. "He's older, and stronger. And he holds all the power over the Council. He can easily sway them to go against me if he wants, given his age. It's just easier, at least that's what Father says." he said bitterly. He wanted to put Graham in his place, show him he was the one calling all the shots. His father seemed like the main person who was against it, and at the end of the day, Grayson wanted nothing more than to please Sebastian King.

I didn't think Sebastian was a bad person, or father. He was kind, loving to his family, and did what he thought was right. But still, just because Sebastian thought he was doing the right thing, didn't mean he really was. I climbed onto Grayson's lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Gray, you don't have to let him run over you. You're the man in charge, not Graham King. He doesn't seem to know that though, from what I've seen." I said, pressing my forehead to his so he would look at me.

He sighed, beginning to grow frustrated. "And what would you have me do, Grace? Charge him with treason and sentence him to death? What?"

I rolled my eyes, kissing his lips softly, hoping to calm him down. I pulled away after a moment, my voice soft as I spoke. "No, I'm not saying that. All I'm saying is that if you started taking charge, the council probably wouldn't blindly follow him. He takes charge over you, Gray, and you let him. You saw how he lost his cool when I didn't back down. Imagine what he would do if you did the same. He would unravel."

Grayson studied me, letting my words sink in. Finally, he nodded, a look of confidence crossing his features. "You're right. You're absolutely right."

I smiled, nodding. "Yeah, I know." I said with a light laugh.

Grayson rolled his eyes, but a small smile broke out on his lips. "Shut up, don't get used to this."

"What?" I asked, leaning back, my tone teasing. "You admitting when you're wrong? Or me always being right?"