Page 67 of Warlord's Plaything

I want to see her fight for it.

"Your people?"I muse, stepping closer."You’ll have to be more specific."

Her hands clench into fists.

"Don’t play fucking games, Xyron."

"And if I enjoy them?"

Her breath stutters, just slightly.

I grin.

Because she’s still so easy to unravel.

And I want to pull every fucking thread.

"The gladiators,"she bites out."The ones who fought with me. Where are they?"

I take my time.

Let my eyes flick over her slowly.

She’s still wearing the battle, even now.

Tension in her shoulders. Heat in her glare. The way her pulse thrums in her throat.

Still ready to fight me.

Even when she knows she’ll lose.

"Some are dead."

I watch the way her chest rises sharply.

I continue.

"The others are in the dungeons. They’ll live—unless I decide otherwise."

Her breath hitches.

She hates this.

Hates that I have this power.

Hates that she gave it to me.

"You’re using them."

"I am keeping them alive."

"At what cost?"

I step closer, until she has to tilt her head to meet my gaze.

"At yours."

She doesn’t move.

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