Page 114 of Warlord's Plaything

A beat of silence.

"And now, she is giving herself to another."

The fury is blinding.

Raw. Violent. Unforgiving.

I grit my teeth, the taste of blood sharp on my tongue.

It’s a lie.

It has to be.

If it’s not?—

"Enjoy the pit, warlord."

Kaelith steps away, leaving the scroll at my feet.

"You die at sundown tomorrow."

A slow, fucking wicked pause.

"Maybe she'll come to watch."

And then, he’s gone.

The darkness swallows me whole.

And I am left alone.

With nothing but a piece of parchment and my own fucking doubt.

37

HIRA

It’s like the air itself has turned to steel.

Thick. Cold. Suffocating.

Everything inside me twists and burns, a roaring inferno of rage and panic clawing at my ribs.

The walls of the underground hideout feel too fucking close.

Like I’m trapped.

Like I’m running out of time.

And I am.

Xyron is going to die.

"The execution has been moved up."

The words echo, repeating in my skull.

A dull, sickening throb pulses in my temple but I ignore it.

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