Page 192 of Warlord's Plaything

He smiles against my mouth.

And he claims me.

The mating ceremony is simple.

Just us.

Just our people.

Just a new beginning.

And when the final rites are spoken, when the bond clicks into place between us, I feel the last of my walls finally fall.

This is where I was always meant to be.

Not in the pits.

Not in the rebellion.

Not in a war I never asked for.

But here.

With him.

I am not afraid.

"I love you."

Xyron laughs, low and dark, wrapping his arms around me, his breath hot against my ear.

"Took you long enough."

61

XYRON

The fire crackles low in the hearth, its embers casting flickering shadows across the stone walls. The scent of night-blooming jasmine drifts in through the open window, thick and sweet, mixing with the lingering traces of rain. The world beyond these walls is quiet—no war, no blood, no battles left to fight.

Just her.

Hira.

She stands at the foot of our bed, watching me. Barefoot, dressed in nothing but a thin, ivory slip that clings to her curves like mist, her dark hair still damp from the bath. The candlelight catches in the strands, turning them to liquid ink, shimmering as she moves.

And gods, the way she looks at me—like I am something worth keeping, something worthwanting.

My chest tightens, heat rising beneath my skin, my pulse steady and strong.

I have spent my life fighting, bleeding, surviving.

I have known pain deeper than the marrow of my bones. I have known loss so absolute it hollowed me out from the inside.

But this—this is something I have never known.

Peace.

Love.

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