Page 100 of Warlord's Plaything

But her absence.

"You don’t have to die, you know."Kaelith’s voice is almost gentle. Almost."You could confess. Tell them you killed him. Tell them you poisoned your own father in your lust for power."

I laugh.

The sound is hollow, bitter."You must think I’m fucking stupid."

Kaelith sighs, shaking his head."No. Just desperate."

I bare my teeth."You want a confession? Come closer. I’ll carve it into your fucking throat."

He chuckles, but there’s a flicker of something else in his gaze."She won’t come for you, Xyron."

His voice is softer now."She’s already forgotten you."

The words are a dagger right between the ribs.

I know what he’s doing.

I fucking know.

And still, it lodges deep.

Some sick, twisted part of me believes it.

Kaelith studies me, waiting for something. I don’t give it to him. I school my features, let my lips curve into a smirk.

"You talk too much."

His jaw ticks. Then, he smiles."Very well. I’ll let you stew in your delusions a little longer."He steps back, motioning to the guards.“Tomorrow, we’ll see how well you hold up in front of an audience."

33

HIRA

The underground tunnels reek of sweat, damp earth, and blood.

The space is overflowing, too thick, pressing against my ribs like a fucking vice.

Everything is wrong.

Everything is falling apart.

And I let it happen.

I lean against the rough stone wall, arms crossed, jaw clenched so tightly my teeth ache.

The rebellion moves around me like shadows—whispers, footsteps, low voices plotting their next move.

But I barely hear them.

My thoughts are trapped elsewhere.

I still feel his hands on me.

I taste his fucking name on my tongue.

Xyron.

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