Page 141 of Warlord's Plaything

And something in her shatters.

"I need time."Her voice is barely a whisper.

Menias tilts his head, smirking.

"You have one day, little warlord."

He turns, walking away, walking back into the dark.

But I don’t watch him go.

All I can see is her.

My Hira. Falling apart.

And I don’t know how to hold her together.

45

XYRON

Ihave one night to stop her from ruining everything.

One night before Hira makes the worst fucking decision of her life.

One night before she binds herself to a clan that is already sharpening the chains for her throat.

And I don’t have a plan.

Yet.

The tunnels behind me are silent, heavy with the weight of soldiers who no longer believe in the war we started.

Hira is locked in her own mind, stewing in grief, in duty, in the fucking weight of all we’ve lost.

She won’t listen to me.

Not without proof.

Not without something that makes this undeniable.

So I’m going to find it.

Even if I have to dig through the wreckage of my father’s corpse to do it.

The entrance to what’s left of Herox’s stronghold is unguarded.

Not It’s safe—there’s nothing left to protect.

Smoke still curls from the ruin, flames licking at broken stone.

The scent of charred flesh lingers in the air.

This was my father’s legacy.

His empire.

And Kaelith tore it apart like it was nothing.

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