Page 45 of Warlord's Plaything

Low, deep, infuriating.

"I would, but you look like you need it more than me."

Motherfucker.

Before I can stop myself, I lunge.

Fists curling in his tunic, slamming him back against the wall.

He lets me.

Doesn’t fight it.

Doesn’t stop me.

He wants to see what I’ll do next.

And I fucking hate that.

He just watches.

His breath even.

His pupils blown wide.

And fuck—this is dangerous.

This shouldn’t feel like this.

"You think I like this?"I whisper, voice shaking.

"I think you were born for it,"he breathes.

I freeze.

Because that?—

That felt too close to the truth.

I release him and step back, turning away before he can see whatever the fuck just flickered in my eyes.

"Get out of my fucking sight, Xyron."

He doesn’t move.

Doesn’t say a word.

But I feel his smile.

He sees me.

And I don’t even know who I am anymore.

16

HIRA

The space is thick with scorching heat, the kind that sticks to your skin and coils into your lungs like something alive, something hungry.

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