Page 110 of Warlord's Plaything

"And what do you want in return?"I ask, voice cold, steady.

Menias smiles, slow and knowing.

"You are my daughter. It is time you took your place among my people. Marry an orc chieftain. Strengthen our bloodlines. Secure our future."

His eyes glint.

"Do this, and I will give you an army."

The air turns to ice.

For a moment, I can’t fucking breathe.

This is not a request.

It’s a cage.

A beautifully forged, gold-lined cage.

And I need it.

The room is too fucking small.

The walls feel closer, pressing in.

I shake my head, taking a step back.

"You’re out of your fucking mind."

Menias doesn’t react.

"Am I?"

His gaze flicks to the rebels surrounding us.

"You cannot fight this war alone. You cannot save him alone."

He steps closer.

"You can either take my hand, or watch them all die."

I swallow back bile.

It’s a choice that isn’t a choice at all.

My options are dwindling, in fact, they’re non-existent.

I can hear the rebels murmuring now—confirming the worst fucking news.

"The executions are set."

"They’ll be killing them in the pits—Xyron and the human gladiators who were captured in the last rebellion."

"A public execution."

"A slaughter."

This isn’t just about Xyron anymore.

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