Page 68 of Warlord's Plaything

Doesn’t look away.

But her body is too still.

And I know.

I fucking know.

She’s breaking.

Even if she refuses to show it.

"You want them freed?"

I reach out, brushing my fingers against her jaw, her pulse hammering beneath my touch.

"Then earn it, little warrior."

She shudders.

Not in fear.

But because she knows what I mean.

This war between us is no longer just fought with steel.

Because she is losing.

And I am fucking devouring her.

23

HIRA

Iam shaking.

Not from fear. Not from exhaustion.

From something worse.

From something I don’t understand.

I refused to understand.

The dungeons reek of blood and damp stone, the air thick with the stench of unwashed bodies and hopelessness. I can’t see them—**the others, my people—**but I know they’re here, buried deep in the pits beneath Xyron’s kingdom. Caged like animals, waiting for a master’s mercy.

And I am standing here, unbound, breathing clean air.

I am not a prisoner.

I am something worse.

A fucking bargaining chip.

His words still coil around me like a noose, each syllable tightening.

"At yours."

I feel it in my bones.

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