Page 8 of Savage Crown

I chuckle, low and dark. “Luck doesn’t get you in my door.”

She says nothing, but the tension in her body betrays her. Whatever the truth is, she’s not willing to hand it over yet.

That’s fine. I enjoy making people talk.

I straighten, my smirk slow, deliberate. “Do you know what I do to spies?”

Seraphina tilts her chin up, meeting my gaze with fire. “I’m not a spy.”

No hesitation.

Interesting.

“Then what are you?” I step closer, letting silence spread, letting her feel my intimidating presence. “A liar? A runaway? Or are you just someone who enjoys bleeding for secrets you don’t understand?”

Her breath catches. Just a fraction. But I hear it.

Good.

I shift, circling behind her, my voice low, coaxing. “If I take this deal, you become mine. Do you understand that, little thief?”

She stiffens.

I rest my hands on the arms of the chair, caging her in. Close enough to hear her heartbeat. Close enough to feel the heat rolling off her skin.

Her breath is sharp, but she doesn’t pull away. “Yours?”

A slow smirk tugs at my lips. “Did you think I’d offer protection out of kindness?”

She swallows, her throat bobbing. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

I lower my mouth near her ear, let my words ghost over her skin like a promise wrapped in silk. “It means no one touches what belongs to me. Not Lartina. Not her guards. Not the ones hunting you in the dark.”

Her pulse stutters.

I wait.

She whispers, “And the price?”

There it is.

I straighten, letting my hand drift under her jaw, tilting her face up. Her skin is warm beneath my fingers, too soft for this world.

“The price,” I murmur, “is your obedience.”

Her breath shudders, her body going rigid.

She thinks this is about submission. About control. And maybe it is.

But it’s also about something more dangerous.

She has secrets. Secrets I need.

She has a fire inside her, one that Lartina clearly fears. That alone is worth keeping her close. But more than that, I want to know what makes her burn.

She exhales sharply. “So, I’m a prisoner.”

“No,” I say softly. “You’re an investment.”

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