Page 18 of Warlord's Plaything

I do hate him for it.

But godsdamn me—part of me wanted him to fucking break first.

This is a game of control. A slow, dark war neither of us wants to lose.

And I’ll be damned if I let the warlord of House Herox be the one to win.

The slave pits are quiet after he leaves, but the silence isn’t comfortable. It’s taut, stretched thin like a wire about to snap.

Dagen is watching me from across the room, arms crossed, lips pressed into a thin line.

"What the fuck was that?"

I roll my shoulders, shaking off the lingering heat of Xyron’s touch. "I don’t know what you mean."

Dagen moves closer, steps measured, slow. "You think you can play games with him?" His jaw flexes, tense. "You’re going to get yourself fucking killed."

I tilt my head. "You think I haven’t been walking that line since the day I was thrown in this hellhole?"

His gaze flicks to my throat.

Where Xyron’s fingers had been.

Where he’d held me, not with brute force, but with something worse.

Something seductive.

"That’s different," Dagen mutters.

I exhale sharply, dragging a hand through my hair. "Yeah? How?"

His nostrils flare.

"You let him get too close."

My lips curl into something sharp. "You think I had a choice?"

"You didn’t fight him."

That makes my hackles rise. "I don’t fight battles I can’t win. That doesn’t mean I don’t know how to play the fucking game."

Dagen shakes his head, jaw tight. "He’s not like the others, Hira. He won’t break easy."

I step closer, letting my voice drop to a dark whisper.

"Then I’ll break him the hard way."

The tension between us is still thick when Sella moves from the shadows.

She’s smaller, lean, all sharp bones and quiet rage. Unlike the others, she doesn’t look afraid—she looks curious.

"You ever hear the story of the last slave who thought they could rise?" she murmurs.

I glance at her, arching a brow. "You gonna tell me?"

She nods, stepping forward. "Decades ago, one of us got close. A gladiator. A human who fought too well, caught too many eyes, started whispering to the wrong people."

She pauses, watching me.

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