Page 44 of Warlord's Plaything

I whirl, pulse spiking, muscles coiling?—

And there he is.

Xyron.

Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, that unreadable, dark amusement curling at the edges of his mouth.

His eyes gleam under the torchlight, drinking me in like he knows.

Like he felt it.

Like he knew I would run.

I grit my teeth.

"What do you want?"

"I warned you,"he murmurs.

He pushes off the wall, steps closer.

"And you did exactly what I said you would."

My breath shudders.

Not from fear.

Not from anger.

But from something worse.

From the fact that I hate how fucking right he is.

"So what?"I snarl, voice sharp."You came here to say I told you so?"

His gaze rakes over me.

Slow.

Too slow.

"No,"he murmurs.

Another step.

"I came here to see if you would finally admit it."

"Admit what?"

"That you like this."

I still.

Everything inside me locks up.

"Go fuck yourself."

He laughs.

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