Page 22 of Warlord's Plaything

"This is an insult!" he shouts, voice shrill, full of red-faced entitlement.

The council members murmur among themselves, brows furrowing. They’re waiting for me to act. Waiting for me to put her back in her place.

But I don’t move.

Not yet.

I want to see how far she’ll go.

The brute snarls, frustrated now. He feints left, then lunges forward, aiming for the kill.

Hira lets him get close. Too close. But she drops her weapon.

The clang of metal hitting the ground is deafening.

She kneels.

Not in submission.

No, she kneels like a fucking executioner.

And when she lifts her head, locking eyes with me across the arena, the smirk on her lips is slow, sharp, dangerous.

Fucking hells.

I exhale slowly, dragging my tongue over my teeth.

The crowd erupts into chaos.

Half of them are screaming for her blood.

The other half?

They’re watching.

Realizing that something different is happening tonight.

A noble beside me spits in disgust.

"This is unacceptable," he hisses. "That human bitch needs to be made an example of."

I don’t look at him.

I don’t even fucking blink.

I’m too focused on her.

The way she holds my stare.

The way her breath rises and falls, steady and unafraid.

She’s daring me to react.

Daring me to punish her.

She thinks she understands me.

Thinks she knows the rules of this game.

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