Page 76 of Warlord's Plaything

And fuck me, I don’t know if I even want one anymore.

"What happens if they decide you’ve made the wrong choice?"she asks, voice lower now.

Less sharp.

More dangerous.

Because she already knows.

She’s smart enough to read between the lines.

The Council doesn’t waste time with trials.

They don’t offer second chances.

If they see me as a threat, if they decide I am no longer fit to rule…

They’ll try to end me.

"Then I kill them first."

Her eyes flicker.

Not in surprise.

Not even fucking close.

She expected that answer.

But something shifts in her expression.

Something I don’t quite understand.

Yet.

"Then why the fuck are you still here?"she demands."You should be planning, making moves, doing something?—"

"I am."

I reach for her.

Not roughly.

Not like a warlord claiming his prize.

But like a man choosing his fucking weakness.

Her breath stutters.

And she hates it.

I see it in her eyes, in the way she clenches her fists like she wants to strike me just as much as she wants me to keep touching her.

And I could.

Right now.

I could pin her against the wall, tear that fucking dress from her body, remind her exactly why she keeps coming back to me.

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