Page 47 of Warlord's Plaything

And I don’t know why.

I clench my jaw, pushing the thought away.

Now isn’t the time to fall into my own fucking head.

"The plan stays the same,"I say, rolling my shoulders, trying to shake off the edge creeping into my voice.

Dagen crosses his arms, his lips pressed into a thin line."You’re not listening."

"I’m listening just fine."

"No, you’re not."

His voice is too calm, too fucking measured, and it makes my skin prickle with irritation.

"You’re letting this turn into something else, Hira."

I bristle.

"Something else?"I snarl.

"You don’t just want to fight anymore."

He steps closer, too fucking close, his voice dropping lower.

"You want war."

The words slam into me like a punch to the ribs.

He's not wrong.

I can feel it.

The way my body craves the next battle, the next kill, the next fucking strike against the people who took everything from me.

It isn’t enough to hurt them.

I want to burn them down.

And that’s not normal.

It’s not who I used to be.

But it’s becoming who I am.

I tear my gaze away, breathing sharp, shoving the thoughts into a dark corner of my mind.

This is a distraction I can’t afford.

Not now.

"Let’s get moving, watch out for my signal."

Dagen doesn’t push further.

But the look he gives me before turning away sits heavy on my skin.

Like he sees something in me that I don’t want to acknowledge.

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