Page 102 of Warlord's Plaything

"You know they’re executing him, right?"

My stomach lurches.

I don’t react. I don’t let him see the hit land.

But it does. Fuck, it does.

"You think I’m unaware?"I bite out.

"Then why are you still here?"

My jaw tightens.

"Where the fuck else would I be?"

Varian smirks like he already knows.

"In the dungeons. With him."

A sharp pang of fury shoots through me.

I grab Varian by the front of his shirt, slamming him back against the rough stone wall.

He grins. The bastard fucking grins.

"Hit a nerve?"he taunts.

I want to punch him.

I want to break something, hurt something, scream.

Instead, I step back.

"Fuck off, Varian."

"Make me."

I narrow my eyes, but he only laughs, shaking his head.

"You might be able to deceive yourself, Hira. But you can’t lie to me."

He leans in, voice dropping.

"You care what happens to him."

I don’t answer.

My thoughts are already drifting back to Xyron—to the bruises on his knuckles, the blood at the corner of his mouth, the way he stood tall even when the world fucking crumbled around him.

He should not be caged.

Someone like him should not be on his knees.

He should not fucking die.

And I don’t know what to do about it.

Varian sighs, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

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