Page 139 of Warlord's Plaything

To us.

To this war.

"What’s the price?"

Hira doesn’t hesitate.

She knows.

We all fucking know.

Menias' smile is slow, sharp, designed to cut.

"The same. You marry an orc chieftain. You bind yourself to his clan. And in return—he will lead our forces against Kaelith and his council."

A silence thick enough to suffocate fills the tunnels.

I hear the flicker of torches.

The distant, faint echo of war still burning above us.

But all I can see is her.

Hira.

Standing before a man who claims to be her blood.

A man who would sell her like fucking cattle in exchange for war.

"No."

I don’t think.

I just say it.

Sharp. Final.

But Hira?—

She doesn’t answer.

She doesn’t fucking answer.

And that’s when I realize?—

She’s considering it.

Rage slams through me, white-hot and all-consuming.

"You’re not seriously thinking about this."

I step toward her.

She doesn’t move.

She doesn’t even look at me.

"Hira."

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