Page 63 of Claimed In Darkness

Of course.

They knew I would come for it.

They knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away.

My father probably had a hand in this. I grit my teeth.

"Doesn’t matter," I say, my tone bored, despite the rage simmering just beneath the surface. "We go as planned. They can guard it all they want. It won’t make a difference."

A slow smirk tugs at the corner of Varik’s mouth. "Confident, as always."

I don’t humor him with a response. Instead, I turn my gaze to the far side of the room—where she stands.

Naira is pressed against the stone wall, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. The torchlight flickers against her skin, dancing over the sharp planes of her collarbones, the exposed line of her throat, the silver glint of the collar still locked around it.

She doesn’t belong in this room.

Another piece in the game I’m playing.

Her gaze flicks to mine, and something dark shifts in the space, something sharp and unforgiving.

She knows I want her. How she left me craving her like a need settling in my gut.

She leans her head slightly, just enough to be insubordinate, to make me think of how her throat would feel beneath my teeth.

"I assume you’re not keeping me here just for decoration," she drawls.

The others at the table fall silent.

She’s testing me.

Pushing.

Trying to see where my control snaps.

I exhale, slow and deliberate, before turning fully toward her.

"The vault is impenetrable," I say. "Except by you."

Her lips part slightly, brows furrowing in the first real flicker of surprise I’ve seen from her in days.

"Their security measures are meant for me," I continue. "For my men. For thieves trained in the dark arts, trained to move unseen. But you?"

I tilt my head, letting my gaze rake over her, making sure she feels every bit of it.

"They see you as nothing more than a tool," I murmur. "A weapon at my disposal. The perfect little pet, trained to obey."

Her jaw clenches.

I almost smirk.

"That," I say, leaning in just slightly, "is how we get in."

Silence coils between us, thick and suffocating.

"You want me to walk into the vault like a good little slave," she murmurs. "Pretend I’m there on your orders. And then what? Kill everyone inside?"

"If necessary."

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