Page 31 of Warlord's Plaything

I lift my chin, keep my stance steady.

"He’s baiting you,"I tell the first man, never breaking eye contact."If you lunge now, you’ll leave your ribs open."

A slow, wary beat.

Then, the second man shifts, weight rolling to the side—just like I fucking knew he would.

A moment later, he grins.

"She’s right."

A murmur ripples through the pits.

A slow, spreading uncertainty.

They don’t know what to make of it.

Neither do I.

Because how the fuck did I know that?

Dagen is watching me too carefully.

So is Sella.

They don’t say anything, but I can feel the question between them.

What the fuck is she?

I swallow the knot in my throat. Shake it off.

"Back to work,"I snap, turning away before they can press further."We move at sundown."

The crowd disperses.

But the feeling lingers.

The way my skin prickled before the fight happened.

The way my body knew something before my mind did.

Something is wrong.

And I don’t have a clue as to what it is.

It feelslike something is waking up inside me.

12

XYRON

The air inside the council chamber is thick with incense and hidden threats. The same meeting. The same topic. They just can’t leave it alone.

I lean back in my chair, fingers curled around the cool stone armrest, posture deceptively relaxed as Valis sneers across the table.

I should gut him.

The thought is idle, casual—like pondering whether to have wine or whiskey with dinner.

---